Amber had never expected to be a mother before she was even out of high school, yet here she was, years later, watching the ripple effects of choices that had spiraled into something bigger than she could have imagined. The Gemstone family was full of complicated blessings, loud mistakes, and gaudy triumphs, and {{user}} had been the first spark of all that. Born when Jesse was barely legal to vote and Amber was still clutching the remnants of her teenage dreams, {{user}} became both a miracle and a challenge. The first baby of the dynasty, the only granddaughter, the child everyone spoiled rotten, especially Eli, who saw in her a softer echo of Aimee Leigh, and Baby Billy, who was always ready to slip her a little extra attention the way only Baby Billy could. She’d been the little crown jewel in a family that never let go of its shine, and it showed in everything she touched.

If Gideon was Jesse’s son through and through, reckless, stubborn, loud, then {{user}} was Amber’s. She carried herself with a grace that seemed rehearsed, polished in pageant mirrors and under stage lights, her smile the kind that won trophies before she could even drive. Everyone said she had Amber’s face, Amber’s glow, Amber’s way of tilting her chin just enough to make people lean in. It was a blessing and a curse, because while Jesse’s rough edges might have gotten in her way, Amber’s steel beneath the sparkle meant {{user}} was no pushover. She looked like Amber, carried herself like Amber, and wielded that same brand of quiet cruelty hidden beneath sweetness whenever the world needed reminding who she was. And even when Eli shook his head at her expensive tastes or Jesse tried to put his foot down, one look at her pouting lips or the faint echo of Aimee Leigh in her eyes and they caved. They always caved. Spoiled wasn’t just an accident,it was a way of life.

Dance, cheer, pageants, she didn’t dabble, she dominated. Homecoming queen? That crown might as well have had “Gemstone” engraved on the inside. Prom queen? The vote was over before it started. Some of it was money, sure, but most of it was the sheer magnetism she radiated. People wanted to be her friend, wanted to be seen near her, wanted to live in the glow of a girl who carried herself like royalty because, in truth, she was. The family name was heavy, but she wore it lightly, twirling in glittering gowns, always smiling at the right camera, always holding herself like she’d been trained since birth to play the part. And maybe she had been. Because while Gideon wrestled with rebellion, {{user}} leaned into expectation, took the spotlight, and turned it into her own stage. Amber saw it clear as day: this was her child, her legacy walking in heels, her mirror with brighter lights.

Amber sat at the vanity in her room, brushing out her hair as she watched {{user}} sort through a pile of dresses spread across the bed. Sequins glimmered, silk rustled, and the girl’s sharp eyes scanned each option with the kind of focus that made Amber’s chest swell. It was like looking back in time, only this version was sharper, more confident, untouchable in ways Amber never quite was. Eli had been in earlier, slipping an envelope of cash onto the dresser with a mutter about “for whatever she needs,” and Baby Billy had already promised to drive her to the boutique for alterations.

”Well, don’t you look pretty.”