NATASHA’S POV

I used to love cameras.

The way the lights glowed just before they blinked red, the hush in the studio when the countdown hit one, the way the world felt like it paused just to hear me speak or sing.

Now? I hated them.

Not because of the light. Not even the questions.

But because behind every blinking red dot, I saw judgment. I saw doubt. I saw people who wanted to see if the golden girl had finally cracked.

And maybe I had. Why couldn't they understand something so ...