They Wrote My Obituary For Clout

"I need a break," Mia said, tossing her makeup sponges onto the vanity. "Don't touch the ring light, it's running hot."

"Go," I told her, sorting through a pile of discarded PR boxes. "I'll pack up the samples."

Mia slipped out of the studio. Her tablet remained face-up on the glass desk.

A sharp chime broke the silence. A sync notification flashed across her screen.

I leaned over to swipe the alert away. My finger tapped the cloud draft folder instead.

The document title stopped me dead: *Lila Monroe - Post-Accident Transition Strategy.*

"What the hell?" I whispered to the empty room.

I scrolled down. It wasn't a joke. It was a fully formatted business plan.

*Drafted: October 14th.* Two months ago.

*Phase One: The Tragic News.* A pre-written caption sat in bold text. *'My heart is shattered. My best friend, my sister, Lila, was taken from us in a fatal car crash last night. Please respect our privacy.'*

Beneath that, a folder of photos. Black-and-white images of me and Mia.

*Phase Two: Brand Management.* Drafted emails to our top sponsors.

*‘We assure you that Mia and Kai will assume full control of the channel. All contract obligations will be met without interruption.’*

*Phase Three: The Memorial Special.* A three-week content calendar designed to milk my death for maximum engagement.

My stomach dropped. I tapped the edit history. Kai's user icon popped up alongside Mia's. My boyfriend and my best friend. They had been collaborating on this file for eight weeks.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway.

I slammed the tablet cover shut. I shoved it back to its exact spot on the glass desk.

The studio door swung open. Kai walked in, stepping over a pile of shipping boxes.

"Great numbers tonight, babe," he said.

I forced my jaw to unclench. "Thanks. We peaked at fifty thousand."

He closed the distance between us. "You look exhausted."

"Just a long stream."

He held out a plastic water bottle. The plastic seal was already broken. "Drink. You've been talking for three hours."

I stared at the broken red ring around the cap. A cold sweat broke out along my spine.

"I'm actually fine," I said.

"Take it, Lila." His voice dropped, losing that upbeat boyfriend tone he used for the cameras. "You need to hydrate."

"Right. Thank you." I took the bottle. The plastic crinkled under my grip.

"Drink it now," he pushed. "You always get those migraines if you don't."

"Let me just pack up the ring light first." I turned my back to him, stepping toward the equipment.

"Leave the gear. I'll do it. Just drink."

I spun back around, stretching my lips into a smile. "I will. Give me two seconds to grab my phone charger from my bag."

I walked over to the leather tote slung over the director's chair. Kai watched me. I could feel his gaze burning into the back of my neck.

"Did you see Mia?" I asked, keeping my tone light.

"She was heading to the restroom," Kai replied. "Why?"

"Just wondering." I unzipped my bag. I slid the water bottle deep into the side pocket, wedging it beneath my makeup pouch. I pulled out my charger and held it up. "Found it."

Kai frowned, stepping closer. "Where's the water?"

"Drank half, tossed the rest," I lied, pointing to the overflowing trash can near the desk. "It tasted warm."

His eyes narrowed. "You drank it that fast?"

"I was thirsty."

Before he could question me further, the studio door opened again.

Mia strolled in, wiping her hands on a paper towel. "God, the plumbing in this building is a nightmare."

"You survived," Kai said. He didn't look at her. He kept his focus pinned on me.

Mia tossed the towel into the bin. She walked straight to the desk and picked up her tablet. I watched her fingers trace the edges of the case.

"Are we done here?" Mia asked.

"Almost," I said. "Just need to log out of the main account."

Mia pulled two glossy slips of paper from her back pocket. "Actually, I have a surprise. I snagged tickets for that late-night screening at the Alamo."

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just the two of us." She flashed a brilliant, rehearsed smile. "A little girls' night to celebrate the launch."

"What about Kai?" I asked.

"I've got editing to do," Kai said, stepping back. "You two go. Have fun."

"We're taking my car," Mia added. She tapped the tickets against her palm. "I'll drive."

*Lila was taken from us in a fatal car crash last night.*

The words from the document screamed in my ears.

"I'm pretty tired, Mia," I said. "And it's pouring rain outside."

"Come on," Mia whined, crossing the room. She linked her arm through mine. "It's just a movie. Plus, I already bought the premium popcorn package. You can't let me go alone."

I looked at her. We had been friends for six years. We built this beauty empire together from a cramped dorm room. Now, she was holding my arm, smiling, while a script for my funeral sat in her hands.

"Please?" she pressed, squeezing my elbow.

"Okay," I said. "A movie sounds great."

"Perfect." Mia released my arm. "I'll go pull the car around to the loading dock. It's too wet to walk to the main garage."

"I'll meet you down there," I said.

Mia grabbed her tablet and walked out.

Kai stepped into my space. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. His fingers felt like ice against my skin.

"Have a good time," he murmured.

"I will."

"Call me when you get there."

"Sure."

I grabbed my tote bag. The weight of the hidden water bottle pulled on the leather straps. I walked out of the studio, my steps even, and headed straight for the elevator.

I hit the button for the lobby. The metal doors slid shut, cutting off my view of Kai standing in the hallway.

I leaned against the mirrored wall. My legs began to shake. I reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle. The clear liquid sloshed gently against the plastic.

A car crash. An opened bottle of water. A late-night drive in the rain with my best friend behind the wheel.

They weren't just planning for my death.

They were executing it tonight.

The elevator chimed, signaling my arrival at the ground floor. I shoved the bottle back into my bag and gripped the handles tight.

I needed to survive the next two hours, and I needed to figure out exactly how to turn this script around on them.