Chapter Two: The Viral Video

Celeste’s POV

My world turned upside down.

Not gradually. Not gently. But like a tablecloth ripped from beneath fine china—jarring, chaotic, and loud.

That’s what I told myself as I stood frozen in place, the chill of Lumière’s air conditioning sinking into my skin like frostbite. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. Couldn’t breathe.

Laughter—their laughter—rang in my ears like gunfire. Olivia’s smirk was cruel, her voice sugarcoated poison.

Smile, Celeste the internet loves a delusional comeback.

The air left my lungs. I didn’t remember inhaling again. The tray in my hand wobbled, as it hits a nearby table it's metallic clang echoing louder than the laughter behind me but I didn’t care. I barely registered it. All I knew was that the ground beneath me no longer felt solid.

Panic bloomed in my chest, cold and suffocating. My cheeks burned. My throat itched. My ears roared with every heartbeat as shame rose like a tidal wave, threatening to pull me under.

I turned on instinct—legs moving before my mind caught up. I couldn’t cry here. Couldn’t fall apart where the wolves could see the blood.

I rushed toward the staff hallway, the tray still clenched in my hands like a weapon I didn’t know how to use. “Celeste!” Julia’s voice cut through the fog, her brows knitted with concern. “Are you okay?”

No.

Not even close.

“Can you cover my tables?” My voice cracked. “Please.”

She didn’t hesitate. Just nodded. Didn’t ask why. Didn’t pity me. Thank God.

I stumbled through the kitchen doors and shoved my way out the back exit. The heavy door slammed shut behind me with a hollow clang that echoed through the alley.

Silence.

Finally.

The night air hit me like a slap, sharp and cold. I braced my hands against the wall and let my head fall forward, eyes squeezed shut.

“Damn it,” I whispered, the words ripping from my throat. I hurled the tray across the alley. It clanged against a crate and crashed to the ground, a jarring sound that somehow soothed me.

I pressed my back to the brick wall and slid down until I was sitting on the ground, knees to my chest.

How did I get here?

Not to this alley. To this life.

I used to have it all. We lived in a white mansion on Lavender Hill with marble floors and glass chandeliers. My closet was bigger than this entire alley. My mom loved Sunday brunches, and my dad always smelled like expensive cologne and success.

Then it all disappeared.

My father’s business partner drained the company’s funds and disappeared. Scandals exploded across headlines. Our accounts were frozen. Lawsuits followed. The press painted us as reckless and greedy.

My mom collapsed in the living room while reading a foreclosure notice.

Heart attack.

She didn’t make it to the hospital.

Dad… he barely lasted two weeks after her.

He also died of heartbreak.

And I? I inherited the mess. The ruin. The silence. The aching emptiness.

Eighteen years old, and my fairytale turned to ash.

Now I worked at Lumière—serving champagne to the next generation of society's elite, the ones who don't even know what it feels like to lose everything.

I wiped angrily at the tears threatening to fall and dragged myself to my feet. I couldn’t break down in an alley. Not again.

The walk home was a blur of headlights, muffled music from passing bars, and honking cars. I kept my head low, my arms crossed over my chest as if that could protect me from the world’s cruelty.

I passed the bakery where I used to go with my mom. Pistachio croissants. She always loved those.

The scent made my stomach ache—not from hunger, but grief.

I reached my apartment building—a run-down block with flickering lights and graffiti on the walls. The elevator was broken. Again. So I took the stairs, every step a brutal reminder of how far I’d fallen.

My apartment was small. Cramped. Quiet. The couch sagged in the middle, and the wallpaper peeled like old skin. I locked the door behind me and collapsed onto the couch, kicking off my shoes without bothering to aim.

Then my phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

Then nonstop.

I stared at it lying beside me, blinking as the notifications piled on top of each other like an avalanche. I didn’t want to look. I knew what it would be.

But I picked it up anyway.

9 Missed Calls. 17 New Messages. Your name is trending.

A pit opened in my stomach. My thumb hovered. I tapped the notification.

There it was.

A Video. My face. My smirk. My proud, deluded expression. The exact moment I told them—Vanessa, Olivia, and Sienna—that Leo Kingsley still wanted me.

My lie.

Shared.

Mocked.

Trending.

The video played.

"Leo Kingsley still wants me," I said, voice steady, eyes defiant.

God, I looked so sure of myself.

Below it, the comments were ruthless:

@TeaSpillHQ: I’m howling—she really thought she ate.

@KingsleyWife: Leo wouldn’t look twice at this broke waitress. Be fr.

@DeluluDiaries: Girlie is living in a fantasy world.

@HotTakeHarriet: She served tho. Audacity = 10/10.

@RichieWatch: Honestly? That level of confidence should be studied.

It was like watching my dignity shatter in real time.

I scrolled further and gasped. Headlines. Actual headlines.

“Former heiress claims billionaire CEO still wants her back.”

“Leo Kingsley’s old flame resurfaces: Who is Celeste Montgomery?”

“#KingsleysCrush trends after explosive confrontation at Lumière.”

My heart sank to the floor.

It was everywhere.

I dropped the phone like it was a hot coal. My chest rose and fell too fast. I couldn’t breathe.

This wasn’t just humiliation.

This was exposure.

Raw. Public. Unforgiving.

Leo Kingsley was going to see it. That much I knew. Maybe he already had. Maybe he was laughing right now, showing his friends: “Hey, remember this girl from high school? She thinks I still want her.”

I buried my face in my hands.

And I cried. Not polite tears, not graceful sniffles. I sobbed. Deep, heaving, ugly sobs that tore from my chest and echoed through the room like breaking glass.

I had survived poverty. I had survived losing my parents. I had survived being invisible.

But this?

This was different.

This was the whole world watching me fall apart.

And I didn’t know if I could survive that.