Chapter 2

The next morning, the early Los Angeles sunlight streamed in through the window.

I washed up, dug an oversized, faded grey hoodie out from the depths of the apartment's old closet, put it on, and walked down the slightly rundown street.

Passing a roadside food cart, I stopped and bought a double cheeseburger.

I stood right there on the sidewalk and took a massive bite.

The melted cheese and the warm, greasy beef patty exploded with flavor in my mouth.

In the past, my mother had never allowed me to touch this kind of high-calorie food.

Maya was probably still reveling in the thrill of claiming my body, completely oblivious to the price it came with.

I hadn't eaten a full meal since I was eight years old. During puberty, when my body was supposed to be growing, I spent long periods being forced to eat tissues—they would expand in my stomach and had zero calories.

The most terrifying part of it all was my mother's sheer, suffocating control.

She never cared about me. When I was little, we were desperately poor. Before I was old enough to know any better, she started tricking me into taking drugs. Once she realized my looks could be monetized, she forced me into countless beauty pageants, took photos of me, and sent them to various producers.

Initially, she wouldn't even let me go to college. I had to threaten suicide and leak the news of my college acceptance online. Forced by public pressure, she finally had to back down. Only then did I get a chance to breathe and experience this hard-earned campus life.

She controlled every aspect of my life, from my career path to my personal freedom.

Under her absolute rule, I wasn't allowed to have any will to resist. To maintain my commercial value and media exposure, she weaponized my drug addiction, forcing me to submit to the industry's unspoken rules.

She repeatedly sent me into hotel suites to face producers who were old enough to be my father, or even my grandfather.

There was no freedom or dignity to be found there. The life packaged under the flashing cameras was actually an airtight iron cage.

But now, I was finally out.

This broad, 250-pound body may have been a bit heavy to carry around, but it gave me an unprecedented sense of freedom.

I chewed as I walked, fully savoring the absolute satisfaction of my taste buds.

However, I had no intention of letting myself go like Maya did.

Since I was going to live my life right this time, I needed a healthy body.

I swallowed the last bite of the burger, tossed the wrapper into a nearby trash can, and began mapping out my future.

I needed to establish a strict workout and fitness routine to shed the dangerous fat suffocating my organs. Beyond that, I would pour all my energy into my studies to pursue my lifelong career goal: I had always wanted to be a journalist.

Meanwhile, back on the college campus, events unfolded exactly as I expected. Maya was completely lost in the glamorous halo of my vanity.

Wearing my newly air-freighted Parisian haute couture jacket, she strutted around campus flanked by the same entourage of cronies who used to hover around me.

She swiped my credit cards without restraint, treating everyone who kissed up to her to expensive meals. She bought luxury goods she previously didn't even dare look at, basked in the envious gazes of those around her, and actively isolated and bullied the very outcasts she once belonged with.

Including me, who was now trapped in her former body.

During the afternoon's basic swimming class, Maya changed into a skimpy custom-made bikini.

She flaunted this "new body" without an ounce of hesitation.

"Chloe, your figure is absolutely incredible!" one of the girls gushed from the sidelines.

Maya covered her mouth and giggled, replying with faux modesty, "Oh, it's nothing. I just keep my weight strictly around 105 pounds. I wouldn't dare let myself gain a single ounce of extra fat."

After soaking up the praise, Maya's gaze swept toward me as I stood quietly in the corner.

I ignored her, unsure of what that look was supposed to mean.

But I found out soon enough.

After class ended, I draped a white towel over my shoulders, walked into the locker room, and pulled open my metal locker door.

It was completely empty.

Obviously, to humiliate me and shatter my dignity, she had directed her minions to sneak into the locker room while everyone was in the pool to hide all my clothes.

Her only goal was to force me to walk out wearing nothing but my revealing swimsuit.

Maya leaned against the opposite row of lockers, her arms crossed.

She immediately feigned shock, raising her voice loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the locker room. "Oh my god, honey, where did all your clothes go? I'd love to lend you something of mine, but honestly, we just don't have enough fabric here to fit your staggering size."

Her entourage burst into cruel, unhinged laughter.

Maya pulled out her phone, holding her breath in anticipation of seeing a 250-pound girl backed into a corner.

In her mind, I was supposed to break down in tears, cover myself in panic, and cower in a corner, too ashamed to face anyone.

Instead, I just stood in front of the wide-open locker. I didn't scream, and I didn't argue with her.

I simply took a deep breath and shut the metal locker door.

Wearing nothing but that one-piece swimsuit that exposed every roll of fat on my body, I took a steady step and walked straight out of the locker room, stepping calmly right out into the campus hallway.

Behind me, Maya froze instantly, and the mocking laughter from her gang died in their throats.

The hallway's air conditioning blew softly against my skin.

Students around me stopped in their tracks. But whether they were staring in shock or whispering insults, none of it slowed my pace for a second.

I kept my head held high.

I had survived days under the blinding flash of paparazzi cameras and the predatory scrutiny of Hollywood producers. Compared to that, these superficial stares meant absolutely nothing to me.

My absolute indifference to what others thought completely backfired on Maya. When she chased after me out of the locker room, her face was livid with rage.

She glared viciously at my straight, unbothered back.

Just then, Liam, the undisputed heartthrob of the law school, happened to be walking down the hallway carrying a thick stack of documents.

Being entirely used to the pretentious behavior of the socialite circle, he paid absolutely no attention to Maya.

But as he turned his head, he saw me.

Liam stopped in his tracks, his eyes locked onto my back.

A guy standing next to him let out a low whistle and raised his phone, getting ready to snap a picture of me in my swimsuit to post online.

Liam's eyes darkened. He immediately reached out and clamped his hand over the guy's phone camera.

"Put your phone away," Liam warned, stopping him with a low, commanding voice.