By the next morning, Aria's manager looked like a man who had aged twenty years overnight.
His phone rang so violently it kept sliding across the table. Aria calmly held it down with one hand while sipping from a cup of yogurt drink.
"Stop touching it," he begged.
"It's vibrating into another dimension."
She shrugged. "Then answer it."
"I CAN'T ANSWER THIRTY CALLS AT THE SAME TIME."
Aria took another sip. "Try harder."
He briefly considered quitting the industry, moving to a mountainside, and adopting goats.
The Emails
His inbox looked like a spam apocalypse:
1,283 new messages
417 marked URGENT
120 labeled EXCLUSIVE CONTRACT
12 with subject lines that simply said "PLEASE."
Aria peeked over his shoulder.
"That one says they'll build a noodle museum with my face?"
He groaned. "They're desperate."
"Hm. A museum could be fun."
"NO. NO MUSEUMS."
The Endorsement Wave Hits
By noon, the offers became so ridiculous they sounded made up:
📌 A sports drink company
—wanted to brand her as "The Weakling with Strength."
Slogan: "Soft on the outside, lethal on the inside."
📌 A luxury watch brand
—wanted her to endorse a model "resistant to explosions and emotional damage."
📌 A cereal company
—offered her a lifetime supply in exchange for a single 10-second commercial where she says,
"I wake up hungry."
📌 A military tactical gear company
—claimed she "embodies field efficiency."
Her manager nearly fainted when he read that email.
📌 A bakery chain
—wanted to make "Aria's Survival Bread."
She liked the idea a little too much.
📌 A martial arts center
—begged her to appear for one day to "prove humans can actually do that elbow thing."
📌 A potato chips brand
—sent a message titled:
PLEASE LET US FEED YOU.
Her manager ran both hands down his face.
"I can't keep up. Every business in the country wants you."
Aria calmly opened a sweet bun.
"So?"
"So?? You have to PICK something!"
She thought about it, chewing thoughtfully.
"No."
"No?! You—why?!"
"I don't want brands. I want lunch."
He stared at her, horrified.
"That is NOT a business strategy!"
"It's working so far."
The Meeting
Her agency forced her into a conference room to discuss endorsements.
Eight executives sat around a table, armed with laptops, charts, and fake smiles.
An executive cleared his throat.
"Miss Lane, we believe you should represent at least one major brand. Preferably something elegant."
Another exec added, "Something aligned with your image."
Aria blinked slowly.
"My image?"
"Of course. Your persona. Your trademark softness wrapped in—"
She tilted her head.
"I already have a trademark: hunger."
The executives froze.
Her manager covered his face with his hands.
Another exec tried to recover.
"Miss Lane, people admire you for your strength, your skills, your wit—surely you want to endorse something meaningful?"
Aria leaned forward seriously.
"I'll endorse whoever sends me dumplings first."
Dead silence.
Her manager slammed his head gently on the table.
The First Delivery
Five minutes later, the front desk called the conference room.
"Um… someone just delivered forty boxes of handmade dumplings addressed to Miss Lane."
Aria stood immediately.
"Meeting's over."
Her manager chased after her.
"No. NO. You cannot accept endorsements based on food delivery! Aria!"
But she had already vanished down the hallway.
Public Reaction
When word leaked that companies were trying to bribe Aria with food, the internet erupted:
💬 "Corporate hunger games."
💬 "She's rewriting marketing strategies by accident."
💬 "Honestly if a brand sent ME 40 dumpling boxes I'd endorse them too."
💬 "She's the first celebrity whose weakness is carbs, not scandals."
Aria's Response
Later that day, she posted on her feed:
"I'm not choosing endorsements. I'm choosing dinner."
It became the most-liked post of the month.
Her manager nearly cried again.
And yet… beneath the chaos and dumplings, something else was happening.
Her name was climbing global charts.
Her clips were being analyzed frame by frame.
Her reflexes, her awareness, her uncanny speed—
People were beginning to whisper.
Not about hunger.
Not about memes.
But about who she used to be.
And those whispers would soon become headlines.
But not yet.
For now, Aria bit into a steaming dumpling, exhaled in bliss, and muttered:
"Best endorsement ever."