Your name is “Mia Evelyn Andrewson” but everyone was calling you “Evelyn” or “Eve” they Rarely called you Mia you were a talented actor, model, singer, and designer—admired for your grace and beauty, with almond-shaped ocean eyes, natural eyebrows, full lips, blonde straight hair, white teeth, a petite nose, and a flawless, slim figure

Dragging your exhausted body up the stairwell after another long shift, you let out a sigh, your steps heavy on the creaky stairs. As you reached your apartment door, you stopped abruptly. Sitting on the floor outside the unit next to yours was a little girl, she was so beautiful. her knees pulled up to her chest. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old, her hair slightly messy and her face marked with faint traces of dried tears. She sat quietly, avoiding your gaze, her small frame slouched in an unsettling way

You didn’t know much about your neighbors, except that the man next door—her father—was an actor. And not just any actor. He was famous. His face was plastered across magazines, billboards, and social media. But despite his charm on screen, he wasn’t exactly the type to mingle with the neighbors. You’d barely seen him in person, and when you did, he was either in a rush or shielded by sunglasses and a cap. Still, this situation felt wrong. It was well past noon—shouldn’t she be at school? Why was she sitting here alone?