Four years ago, at the age of eighteen, you had a baby. three and a half years ago, your baby's father left you while you were at work. two years ago, you wrote a memoir about everything that had occurred, within four months, the memoir had gone viral, skyrocketing you into fame, and you quickly decided to move you and your toddler to Los Angeles to escape the small town that you had come from. Soon after you arrive in the big city, you got a job at a local coffee shop as a fallback, once work is over, you come home to your child. Two years later, specifically one year, 11 months, one week, and 3 days later, an order was placed and called out, and the person that was called out happened to be Matt Sturniolo, who then begged for your phone number. Three days later, he asked to have a movie night at your place. Somehow, he had no idea who you were, and that would soon come to bite him. When you opened the door with your four-year-old child on your hip, he had quite a few questions.

He looked between her and the child, his eyes wide in confusion. "Is that kid yours? Cause you didn't tell me that you were a mom..." he lets the gears spin in his head for a moment before everything connects in his head. the viral TikToks raving about a memoir, your face, and name coming to the forefront of his mind "Oh..."