"Love yourself first, and everything else falls into line. You really have to love yourself to get anything done in this world." - Lucille Ball

Veronica

The limousine glided through the city streets, a cocoon of luxury shielding us from the outside world. I leaned back against the plush leather seats, letting out a sigh of relief. Another event, another night in the spotlight. The constant scrutiny, the endless parade of faces, and the pressure to maintain the perfect facade – it was exhausting.

"Another successful evening, Veronica," Marcus said, his voice smooth and reassuring. "The press loved you. The fans were ecstatic. You were brilliant, as always."

"Indeed," Alessandro chimed in, his Italian accent adding a touch of flair. "You were simply radiant, darling. A true star."

I offered a tired smile, my gaze drifting towards the window. Their praise was appreciated, of course, but it couldn't penetrate the weariness that settled deep within me. The truth was, I enjoyed the art of modeling, the creativity, the transformation. But the fame that came with it, the constant pressure to be someone I wasn't, that was the part that wore me down.

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"Thank you," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm glad it went well."

But did it really? Had I truly connected with anyone tonight? Or had I simply played my part, delivering the lines and smiles expected of me? The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I glanced at Marcus and Alessandro, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the car's interior lights. They were my constants, my rocks in a sea of fleeting faces. I knew they cared for me, that they wanted what was best for me. But even their unwavering support couldn't fully bridge the gap between the Veronica they knew and the Veronica I felt myself becoming.

My thoughts drifted back to the security guard, the one with the intense eyes who had escorted us to the car. There was something about him that intrigued me, a quiet strength that resonated beneath his professional demeanor. He seemed different from the others, more observant, more…present. I had caught him watching me several times throughout the evening, his gaze lingering a little too long, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. It was unnerving yet strangely compelling.

I wondered about him about the life he led outside of these glittering events. Who was he when he wasn't playing the role of protector? Did he have a family, friends, or life beyond the shadows? The questions swirled in my mind, a curiosity sparked by a fleeting encounter.

The limousine slowed, pulling up to the grand entrance of my hotel. As the driver opened the door, I stepped out onto the red carpet, the flash of cameras momentarily blinding me. The performance continued, the smile plastered back on my face. But beneath the surface, a different kind of awareness stirred, a longing for something more, something real.