The press room smelled like nerves, coffee, and cheap perfume — a cocktail that Aria's instincts classified as dangerous terrain.
Rows of flashing cameras pointed straight at her like a firing squad, while microphones stood ready to stab the first word out of her mouth.
She adjusted her sunglasses and sat down with the calm precision of someone who once defused bombs for a living.
Kelly hovered behind her like an overcaffeinated guardian angel. "Smile," she whispered. "Remember: we're rebranding. Sweet. Vulnerable. Tragic."
Aria smiled — but not sweetly. The expression had teeth.
Reporters shouted almost immediately.
> "Miss Lane, is it true you hit Director Ren on set?"
"Are you blacklisted by the industry?"
"What do you say to rumors that you refused a producer's… offer?"
The room swelled with flashbulbs and judgment.
Aria blinked once, slow. Calculating angles, distance, tension points — like counting hostiles in a war zone.
"Let me answer that," she said finally, voice even. "Yes, I refused something."
The room went pin-drop silent. Even Kelly froze mid-breath.
Aria leaned forward, elbows on the table, her tone almost playful.
"I refused to let someone treat me like a vending machine — insert ego, expect obedience. If that makes me hard to work with, fine. I'd rather be hungry than swallowed."
For a full three seconds, the press forgot to breathe.
Then, a thousand camera shutters clicked at once.
Kelly buried her face in her hands. "Oh my god, she's doing it again."
Aria kept going, her words smooth as silk but loaded like bullets.
"I didn't hit anyone," she added. "But if I had, I assure you, there wouldn't be any confusion about it."
Laughter rippled through the crowd — sharp, nervous.
Reporters exchanged looks.
This wasn't the weak, teary starlet from the gossip reels. This was a woman who could skin an insult alive and serve it with garnish.
A man in the back — tall, sunglasses, clearly enjoying the chaos — raised a hand.
"Miss Lane," he said. "You've been accused of being difficult. Yet your upcoming show cast you again. Why do you think they kept you?"
Aria's smile sharpened.
"Because ratings love fire."
A burst of laughter, flashes again.
She could practically feel the internet forming memes in real time.
Kelly's phone buzzed violently in her pocket.
She peeked — her pupils dilated. "Aria— you're trending. Again."
> #QueenOfScandals
#AriaLaneUnfiltered
#VendingMachineQuoteOfTheYear
Aria tilted her head at the cameras. "Any more questions before my manager faints?"
A woman near the front hesitated, then asked, "Miss Lane… if you could send a message to those who don't believe you—what would you say?"
Aria paused. For once, she let the smile fade just enough.
Her tone softened — but not weak. Controlled.
"I'd say… believe what you want. Everyone sees what they can handle. But truth doesn't disappear just because it's inconvenient."
The woman blinked, caught off guard.
It wasn't the answer they expected from a tabloid punching bag.
Kelly, half in shock, half in awe, whispered, "You just turned an execution into a redemption arc."
Aria stood. "Good. Let's leave before I ruin it."
They made it halfway down the hall before Kelly cornered her.
"What was that?!"
"Damage control," Aria said simply.
"That wasn't control — that was verbal detonation!"
Aria shrugged. "Same thing."
Kelly groaned. "The sponsors will either love you or sue us."
"Either way," Aria replied, "we get publicity. You're welcome."
Outside, the paparazzi swarmed again.
She put on her sunglasses, sidestepped a microphone like dodging a punch.
Flashbulbs popped — like gunfire, familiar rhythm, almost nostalgic.
"Miss Lane! Over here!"
"Aria, are you single?"
"Aria, do you regret what happened with Director Ren?"
She stopped. Just one step before the car door.
Turned slightly, enough for every lens to catch her smirk.
"Regret?" she echoed. "Sure. I regret not eating before coming here. Now, if you'll excuse me—there's fried chicken waiting for me."
Click.
Every single camera caught that line.
Kelly wheezed. "You really said that."
"Truth sells," Aria said, sliding into the car. "And apparently, so do carbs."
The car door slammed.
Kelly's phone started vibrating nonstop — notifications exploding like fireworks.
Headlines already forming:
> "Aria Lane Breaks Silence: 'Rather Be Hungry Than Swallowed'"
"The Scandal Queen's Savage Comeback"
"Fried Chicken and Fire Quotes — Aria Lane Rewrites Her Image"
Aria leaned back, staring out at the city rolling past the tinted window.
For the first time since waking up in this strange, glittering world, she almost smiled — really smiled.
Maybe this new battlefield wasn't so different after all.
The weapons had changed — microphones instead of guns, cameras instead of snipers — but the rules were the same.
Survive.
Adapt.
Win.
And if you can, make sure you eat first.