Fallout wasn’t always loud.
Sometimes, it was quiet destruction.
⸻
Elena stared at her phone, unmoving.
The numbers were still climbing—but not in her favor.
⸻
Comments had shifted.
Support had thinned.
Contracts—paused.
Campaigns—under review.
⸻
One message stood out among the rest:
“We’ll be stepping back from future collaborations until further notice.”
⸻
Her jaw tightened.
⸻
“No…” she whispered.
⸻
Because this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
⸻
She had controlled the narrative.
Planned every move.
⸻
And now—
She was the story.
⸻
⸻
Across the city—
Elara sat in her room.
Quiet.
Still.
⸻
For the first time in days—
There was no noise pressing in on her.
⸻
No chaos.
No reaction needed.
⸻
Just… space.
⸻
Maya leaned against the wall, arms folded.
Wa
