Naomi's POV
The studio smelled like warm lights and polished wood. It was too bright, Too sterile, Like a courtroom dressed as a stage.
Everything buzzed—cables, phones, makeup brushes fluttering like moths around my cheeks. Charlotte paced near the back, whispering updates into her headset. The stylist tugged gently at my sleeve while the producer double-checked my mic, her voice cool and efficient.
We were fifteen minutes from going live.
Charlotte paced outside the door. Kendra was in the control room, coordinating slides.
I stared at my reflection in the vanity mirror—still Naomi, but my face was looking sharper, Softer, too.
My features were calm, but something inside me trembled, shifting like a storm beneath calm waters. This was the moment they’d been trying to crush. And h
