I was dead.

I was hidden in the fridge for 40 days before they found my body.

I was completely naked, and my face was twisted into an eerie expression. Anyone could see the inhumane torture I had undergone before I died.

Then, high-definition uncensored photos of my body began to spread across the internet. Even in death, I could not escape the public's heated gaze as they judged and commented on my body.

"I expected nothing less from a celebrity who's all about fan service. She's incredibly hot!"

"I heard you had to pay 30 grand for a full day with her! Just imagine all the things the wealthy can do."

"So what if she was a celebrity? Those monsters will ruin whoever they want to."

Negative comments flooded the posts that contained those photos.

I shuddered as I turned to look at the middle-aged woman before me—Karen Palmer, my mom. Despite all the rumors flooding her phone, my mom nonchalantly scrolled through them all.

The biggest reaction I saw was a frown as she liked and reposted a comment saying 'Embarrassing'.

Then, she turned her phone off and continued with her day.

She was right. It was embarrassing.

She probably felt ashamed to have a daughter like me.

Ever since I joined the entertainment industry, 'embarrassing' had become the adjective she used to describe me the most.

I started as a less-known idol from a girl group and later gained infamy thanks to controversies. I did not become well-known due to my ability as a celebrity or my looks.

Everyone online disliked me, claiming that I was only good at fan service.

Now, they were saying that I intentionally died in an unconventional way for fame.

Death did not win me the sympathy or concern of the world. Instead, it gave them something more to discuss.

Some presumed that my death was accidental after a fun night in bed, while some assumed that I had offended one of my powerful bedmates.

No one pitied me. Not even my mom.

My mom's phone rang, and it was a call from my sister. She had been adamant about becoming an A-list celebrity these days.

After what happened to me, my mom would never agree.

"She got to the top by sleeping with people. Can you do the same? Penelope, all you need to do is inherit everything she left behind, okay?

"Are you as shameless as she is? Are you willing to do anything to get to the top, Penelope? No, you're not! So, how will you make a name for yourself? You're different. You're innocent, Penelope. You're clean."

She sounded so gentle when she spoke to Penelope.

I wanted to reach out, to grab my mom's hand and tell her to stop. I wanted to tell her that I did not get to the top by selling my body, that I did not choose to wear those revealing outfits, that I was forced, and that my contract was on the line.

I wanted to tell her that I did not try to seduce any man.

I was not just a celebrity who was good at fan service.

But ghosts could not talk. So, I watched my mom coax and console my sister until she finally agreed.

Finally, my mom smiled. "That's my good girl."

I cried.

…

Today marked the 40th day since I died and the 23rd year without anyone loving me.

"One more hour until the performance. You guys should eat something before we go on stage."

At the sound of a familiar voice, my eyes shot open.

I was in the waiting room, and my group's assistant was passing out low-calorie snacks.

She smiled when she reached me. "Eat something first before you have to change into your performance outfit. I look forward to your debut performance tonight."

Debut performance? As in the debut stage of my group—AM—in 2019?

I had managed to return to the day before the internet began to attack me.

My outfit would rip during today's performance, and I would accidentally flash the audience.

Despite being the victim of a wardrobe malfunction, the internet accused me of deliberately ripping my outfit to seduce sponsors and for clout; similar to how a few female celebrities would purposefully flash on the red carpet.

The internet called me names, and I was embarrassed to be in the center of it all.

At this moment, I looked around the waiting room. My group's leader, Juliet, threw the bag with my outfit on my lap.

"Go change instead of standing in my way. You're ruining my vibe," she said coldly, to which the other members agreed. Only Erin, our assistant, gave me a sympathetic look.

I silently looked down at the bag that contained my clothes and smiled.

Everyone in AM came from a powerful family, especially Juliet. I was the only 'commoner' among them. Despite following the rules to the best of my ability, Juliet had never shied away from bullying me.

Now, it was my turn.

Like last time, our performance was a success.

We sang and danced with everything we had under the lights, and our fans screamed in support… until the woman in the center experienced a wardrobe malfunction.

Both straps holding onto her top snapped without warning, and just as she raised her hands to cover her chest, someone raised their camera and began to record what happened.

Juliet fell to the ground in shock.

Our performance was put on pause after this incident.

Erin quickly rushed forward and gave Juliet her jacket, then she assisted her off the stage.

The audience began to point fingers at Juliet, while some men sneered with lust.

Even the emcee began to stutter, and the man had seen his fair share of incidents throughout his career.

It was chaos.

I followed the other members down the stage as well. Immediately, we were surrounded by a hound of reporters, all wanting to get first-hand information about the incident.

"Do you think Juliet flashed the audience on purpose for clout? Or did she do it to seduce the sponsors sitting below?"

They asked the same ridiculous question as they did in my previous life. Back then, Juliet merely averted her gaze and said, "Blossom doesn't have a lot to show, so this was her only way to gain popularity. Please, I feel really sad for her…"

As the most popular member of our group, her words decided my fate in the entertainment industry. From then onward, I was known as the shameful woman who would do anything for fame.

I snapped away from my memories and smiled at the reporter before me. "Juliet is…"

I was just about to answer when Juliet rushed over and dragged me to the makeup room, where the lights were off.

She glared at the outfit I had yet to take off and screamed, "You did this to me, didn't you?!"

Shrugging, I pulled out my phone to show her the video that was spreading like wildfire across social media. In the video, Juliet was seen cutting up one of the performance outfits in the fitting room.

"Didn't you cut your own clothes for clout?" I asked, confused.

Everyone and their mom had already seen the video, and comments expressing the netizens' distaste for such shameful behavior came flooding in.

Juliet never considered that her actions would be caught on camera. She screamed.

When she looked at me again, her eyes were frantic and red. She grabbed my wrist. "No! I cut your outfit, not mine! How could this have happened?!"

How else but the fact that I had gone to the fitting room before her and set up the camera, then swapped our clothes after she was done?

Everyone's outfit was the same for this performance, but we all wore different sizes, so our outfits were labeled accordingly.

All I had to do was swap our labels.

I smiled at her. "Is that so? I guess karma does exist, huh?"

After this, Juliet and I swapped situations. She became the target of everyone's mockery while I got to sign with a few brands.

It did not take long before my mom summoned me home under the guise of 'missing me'.

I scoffed when I recalled what happened in my previous life—she had set me up on blind dates with some upstart businessmen at home.

"Do you think you're still young? As if any young man would still want you! You should be happy with who I set you up with! At least they're not crippled and they live in the area."

I was financially independent in my mid-20s, and I was confident in my looks and smarts. I knew that I was above average, yet those words managed to beat down my self-worth anyway.

Now that I thought about it, it was obvious that she was trying to manipulate me so that I would give her exorbitant wedding gifts.

So, I changed my number and blocked both my mom and my sister. I also stopped paying for their cost of living every month, opting to save 40 grand instead.

I swore that I would never let them wring me dry again.

Once my mom realized that I had blocked her, she began to find different ways to get in touch with me.

At one point, she even found the filming set and location I was at.

I happened to be filming the scene where the male lead would jump into the water and save me. My mom arrived on set the moment he princess-carried me out of the water.

She was furious when she saw me lying in my co-star's arms in a flimsy dress dripping with water.

Without a word, she grabbed my hair and slapped me across my face.

"How dare you?! You stopped answering my calls to sell your body now, huh? Is that what you've been doing these days?! Just because you're a star now doesn't mean you can disrespect your mother like this! You should've just gone and married someone instead of shaming our family like this!"

Erin was a soft-spoken woman. She must have allowed my mom onto the set because she was my family member.

Erin could not have predicted that my mom would cause a ruckus on set.

Everyone was shocked, but no one moved to stop her as they were intrigued to see how this would play out. Before she could slap me again, someone grabbed her arm to stop her.

I looked up and met my co-star, Cade's, eyes.

He pulled out his phone in preparation to call the police. "Assault is illegal, and everyone here is a witness."

My mom scoffed. "I'm her mother! What's wrong with teaching my daughter a lesson?"

"Is that so?" Cade sneered, his tone taking a colder turn. "Then what about hindering our filming process? We're burning 15 grand every hour to book this place, and everyone's time that you're wasting is another 30 grand.

"Should I call the police and have them tabulate the numbers for you?"

At the account of money, my mom began to look nervous. There was nothing she loved more in the world than money.

"Just you wait, Blossom!" She glared at me before turning to leave.

Cade took off his jacket and put it over my shoulders. I thanked him in a shaky voice.

I thought my mom would leave me alone for a few days, but that night, she made a new account called 'Blossom's Mom' and began to rant about how unfilial I was.

Everyone was shocked because her posts turned me into someone vile and heartless who had blocked my entire family and ignored my mother who was suffering from cancer.

"So what if my daughter has become a star? I put my blood, sweat, and tears into taking care of her, and she forgot all about me upon achieving success! How ungrateful!"

Her posts gained traction, and people began to comment under my posts, calling me out for being an unfilial daughter.

With the attention on her, my mom did a livestream and began complaining about me with the rest of the internet.

I unblocked her number and texted: "I see you're enjoying the clout of bad-mouthing your daughter."

Proudly, she replied: "You want to keep selling yourself for fame, right? Well, too bad. I won't let you get your way!"

Selling myself for fame?

I closed my eyes as my heart clenched painfully.