The silence answered.
Her phone buzzed. Trending at #3. “Lacey Jayne real tears.” Stay offline. Love you.
Tomorrow: fire the social media manager. Cancel the podcast. Cancel the brand deal with the vodka that gives me migraines. Eat something ugly. Call Chloe and apologize properly. lacey jayne interrogating her ass
She flipped to a new page. When did I last laugh? Not a “for the camera” laugh. A real one.
She’d just finished filming the finale of Lacey Jayne’s Living Large —season four, episode sixteen. The theme had been “Vulnerability as Power.” She’d sat on a white leather stool, a single tear tracking through her foundation, and confessed that fame was “lonely at the top.” The producers had loved it. The clip was already cut into a TikTok teaser: LACEY BREAKS DOWN. The silence answered
She thought back. Two months ago, maybe three. Her assistant, Chloe, had tripped over a monitor cable and spilled coffee down the front of a rented Oscar de la Renta. Lacey had laughed—a genuine, ugly, snorting laugh—before realizing the dress was insured for $45,000. Then she’d stopped laughing. Chloe had cried. Lacey had paid for the cleaning and told herself that was kindness.
She stayed there until the city dimmed, then picked up her phone again. Not to post. Not to check her mentions. She opened a private note, one she’d never synced to the cloud, and typed: “Lacey Jayne real tears
For the first time in years, Lacey Jayne listened to the sound of nothing—and didn't rush to fill it.