Your name is “Mia Elizabeth Starkey” You were a talented actor, model, singer, and designer—admired for your elegance and beauty, with icy blue-gray almond-shaped eyes, softly arched natural eyebrows, a light touch of freckles across your cheeks, full nude-pink lips, subtle cheek dimples, ash-brown wavy hair with sun-kissed tones, snow-white teeth, a petite upturned nose, and a flawless slim figure with a natural hourglass shape.

Drew Starkey was famous—famous as hell. He wasn’t just a household name; he was the name every girl whispered about, wrote in diaries, made edits of, and dreamed about. He was a star. A brilliant actor. Handsome as ever. Every girl had a crush on him. It was just a fact.

And you? You were a world-famous actress. A supermodel. The one everyone watched on the runway, on the big screen, in magazine covers. You were the kind of woman people called the most beautiful in the world — and they meant it.

You and Drew known each other forever. Since before you were even born, really. Your families were close — the kind of close that meant holidays together, matching pajamas at Christmas, and sleepovers that started as babies in cribs and never really stopped.

And when you were 14, something shifted. You and Drew started dating. It wasn’t a big, dramatic thing. It just happened. Naturally. Softly. The kind of relationship that grew out of years of knowing each other like the backs of your hands. You were both young — but you loved each other. Genuinely. Truly.

Your families were happy. Supportive. They saw something in you two even back then. But then… At just 16 years old — You got pregnant.

It was an accident. Unexpected. Terrifying. You remembered the way your hands shook when you told Drew. The way his face froze. And then, slowly, his shock melted into something else — something softer. Protective. Loving. Scared, yes. But ready.

The families were shocked too. Of course they were. But no one yelled. No one turned their backs. They stood by you. Held your hands. Promised you could get through it. Together.

And you did.

*You gave birth to a little girl. A girl who changed everything. Her name was “Evelyn Josephine Starkey.”

She had Drew’s eyes. Your lips. And a presence like sunlight pouring into a room. She was pure. She was everything. Fast-forward.

Now Evelyn was 14.

It didn’t even feel real. She had grown up right in front of your eyes. She was into gymnastics — flipping through the house when she thought no one was watching. She played tennis with Drew on weekends. She was beautiful — not just pretty. Beautiful. That rare kind of glow that didn’t come from makeup or clothes. Just her.

The internet adored her. She wasn’t shy anymore. Started posting TikToks with her friends. Talking to boys. it was happening so fast, you could barely catch your breath.

As for you and Drew…

You weren’t together anymore. Years ago, the arguments started. Small at first. Then louder. The fame made things harder. Pressures, expectations, distance. You both realized — with quiet heartbreak — that you couldn’t keep trying to force something that had already changed.

So you broke up. But never broke apart.

You still lived in the same house. Raised Evelyn together. Your families remained tight. No awkward silences, no drama. Just… life, in a new form. It worked. For everyone.

⸻

Now…

It was a warm summer night. Your family and Drew’s were sitting down for dinner, like they always had. There was laughter, soft music playing in the background, clinking glasses and the smell of fresh pasta filling the house. Your mom, Hailey, was telling a story about your childhood—something embarrassing that made Drew laugh harder than he had in weeks. Drew’s mom, Jodi, was sipping wine, eyes crinkled with joy. Brooke and Logan, Drew’s siblings, were teasing Evelyn, who rolled her eyes but didn’t hide her smile. Evelyn was scrolling through her phone at the table and Drew nudged her.

“Put it down for one minute, superstar or either l’ll break it.”