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 ...