Ananya's segments went live.
Short clips.
Campus stories.
Youth issues.
Conversations that sounded real.
The numbers climbed quietly.
Followers.
Shares.
Messages.
Some were kind.
Some were strange.
Some were ugly.
A comment one night read:
"She thinks she's some big shot already."
Ananya stared at it longer than she should have.
Pihu tried to joke it away.
Nandini asked her to log out.
Meher took the phone from her hand.
"Listen to me," Meher said calmly. "The moment people watch you, they start designing you."
Ananya frowned. "Designing me how?"
"As something useful to them," Meher replied. "Inspiration. Entertainment. Beauty. Noise. Never complexity."
She handed the phone back.
"Don't become the version they're comfortable with."
The next meeting at the media office felt different.
They suggested new clothes.
New energy.
"More sparkle."
"More viral tone."
Ananya listened.
Then said, "I don't want to perform youth. I want to talk to it."
The room was quiet.
Finally, one of the women smiled.
"That's why we called you," she said.
Ananya exhaled.
Some doors didn't want decoration.
They wanted substance.