The morning after her now-legendary "Still cooking." post, the internet split into two distinct camps:
those who worshipped Aria Lane like a deity of chaos, and those who had once hated her—and now didn't know how to apologize.
They were called the Black Fans.
Haters turned devotees.
These were the same people who, months ago, called her "the weakest actress alive" and "a professional embarrassment."
Now?
They defended her online with the loyalty of knights.
💬 "I used to hate her, but that was before enlightenment."
💬 "We were wrong, okay?! She was just pretending to be weak—FOR THE PLOT."
💬 "I repent through memes."
💬 "Forgive us, Queen of Frying Pans."
Aria scrolled through the chaos while stirring a bowl of cookie dough.
She was halfway through reading another "I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID" comment when her lips curved in amusement.
Her manager, barging in mid-phone call, froze.
"Wait. Are you baking?"
"Yes."
"For what?"
"For them."
"The fans?"
"The haters."
He blinked. "You're… baking for your haters?"
"Baking with them," she corrected, cracking an egg with perfect aim.
"Today's recipe: poetic justice."
That night, she started a new livestream titled:
"Forgiveness Cookies 🍪 — Reading Mean Comments While Baking."
Viewers flooded in instantly.
Within two minutes, the chat broke ten million live watchers.
The camera showed Aria's kitchen — clean, professional, lit like a cooking show.
She wore an apron that read: "Still Fragile (Emotionally Unavailable)."
"Welcome back," she greeted casually, tying her hair back.
"Tonight, I'm making cookies. Ingredients: flour, sugar, eggs, and public humiliation."
💬 "OH SHE'S BACK IN HER PETTY ERA 😭😭😭"
💬 "She's baking revenge live omg."
💬 "Her apron??? I'm deceased."
Aria picked up her phone and scrolled through a compilation of old hate comments.
"Let's start with a classic," she said cheerfully. "'Aria Lane can't act to save her life.'"
She looked straight at the camera. "You're right. I can only act to end other people's careers."
She pressed a cookie cutter into the dough shaped like a screaming emoji.
"Next."
💬 "SHE'S MURDERING THEM WITH SUGAR 😭😭😭"
💬 "'End other people's careers' HELP."
💬 "No one roasts like her. Literally."
She read another: "'She's so weak, I bet she can't even lift a frying pan.'"
Aria raised her frying pan, slammed it gently on the counter with a thunk, and smiled.
"This aged like milk."
The chat howled.
💬 "She just threatened physics itself 😭😭😭"
💬 "The pan slam added 20 years to my lifespan."
💬 "Can we get merch that says 'This Aged Like Milk'?"
She continued reading:
"'She'll never trend again.'"
Aria laughed softly, cutting another cookie.
"True. I don't trend anymore. I own the trends."
Then she sprinkled chocolate chips on each cookie shaped like usernames of her old haters.
"Chocolate chips represent redemption," she explained sweetly. "Or bullet holes. Interpret freely."
💬 "Chocolate bullets is CRAZY 😭😭😭"
💬 "This is why the internet bows to her."
💬 "She's making cookies of vengeance and we're EATING IT UP."
Halfway through the stream, she looked up with that deceptively soft expression that made everyone nervous.
"You know," she said, stirring the dough again, "I used to take comments like that personally. Until I realized—"
She paused, then smirked.
"—people only throw stones at what they can't reach."
The chat exploded.
💬 "Philosopher Aria just dropped another quotable line."
💬 "'Throw stones at what they can't reach' — tattoo incoming."
💬 "She's baking wisdom now."
Thirty minutes later, she pulled the cookies from the oven — golden, perfect, deadly.
She held one up close to the camera.
The icing spelled out:
"Still fragile. Still dangerous."
Then she took a bite.
"Sweet," she said softly. "Like redemption."
The internet lost its mind.
By morning, hashtags flooded every platform again:
#ForgivenessCookies
#StillFragileStillDangerous
#BlackFansRedemptionArc
Former haters publicly apologized, posting videos of themselves baking cookies in tribute.
Bakeries began selling "Aria Lane cookies."
Even the largest culinary channel titled its next episode:
"Can You Bake Like the Foodie Queen of Vengeance?"
In her apartment, Aria scrolled through the chaos with faint amusement.
Noah called her through a secure line.
"I saw the cookies," he said. "Admit it — you're enjoying this."
"I'm feeding them," she said.
"With cookies?"
"With control."
💬 "She's rewriting PR with pastry."
💬 "Forgiveness never looked this dangerous."
💬 "She's unstoppable, unbothered, unfrosted perfection."
That night, Aria posted a final message to her feed:
A photo of one remaining cookie on a white plate, the icing spelling out:
"To my haters — thanks for the views."
No caption.
No hashtags.
Just perfection.