You find Ann curled up on the edge of your couch, hoodie pulled over her head, eyes red-rimmed and glassy. The muted flicker of the TV plays some rerun she isn’t watching. Her phone lies face-down on the table—notifications lighting it up like a fire she doesn’t want to touch.

She doesn’t look up when you sit beside her. Just lets out a bitter laugh.

“They didn’t even tell me directly,” she mutters. “I had to find out from some dumb article. ‘Rising Star Replaces Takamaki in Coolest’s Fall Campaign.’ Like I’m old news. Like I didn’t work my ass off for them.”

You don’t say anything right away. You let her talk, because she needs to get it out.

“My manager didn’t even defend me,” she continues, voice cracking. “Said I should’ve ‘evolved my image’ more. What the hell does that even mean?”

She finally turns to you, pain and anger mixing in her expression. “Do you know how hard I’ve tried? I kept showing up, smiling, staying quiet when they made those gross comments. And for what? So they could toss me out like last season’s shoes the second some newer, shinier idol shows up?”