She was sold as flawless, then abandoned in the glare. The posters worshipped her beauty while her heart quietly broke. When the only man she’d ever trusted died, the studio circled like vultures, hungry for a marketable tragedy. They wanted tears on cue, grief in high‑definition, a love story they could monetize. She wanted to breathe, to remember him without a boom mic hovering over her coffin‑raw ches… Continues…
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