To maintain her “single and unattached” persona in the entertainment world, my mother abandoned me in a remote mountain village for eighteen years. I was ten when I overheard my aunt and uncle talking and learned for the first time that my mother was a famous actress. In my first-ever computer class in middle school, my clumsy fingers typed out her name: “Laura Lane.” I watched a video of the glamorous celebrity, her arm draped affectionately around a young girl’s shoulders, announcing that she was adopting the girl as her goddaughter. She promised to treat her like her own flesh and blood. The little girl was moved to tears. They hugged, a perfect picture of mother-daughter devotion. My own eyes burning, I clicked the video closed. Eight years later, I was accepted into Ashton University. On the very first day, I ran into Laura Lane. And with her, the goddaughter she’d claimed in front of the world, a rising starlet named Crystal Liu. 1 It was the first day of orientation at Ashton University. And the first time I had ever seen her in person. My biological mother, Laura Lane. She had just stepped out of a luxury car, but even with the dark sunglasses hiding her eyes, I recognized her instantly. The designer bags, the entourage of assistants buzzing around her—she was the living embodiment of glamour and extravagance. I watched from a distance as she directed her assistants, then wrapped an arm around a young woman and disappeared into the dormitory building. Only then did I slowly start to follow. My hand had just touched the doorknob of my dorm room when I heard a soft, melodramatic complaint from inside. “Darling, this room is so small and shabby. You’ll have to rough it for a while. As soon as orientation is over, we’ll move you out of here.” So, the girl she was doting on was my new roommate. Great. I opened the door, and another girl in the room immediately started the introductions. “This is Crystal Liu, our new roommate, and this is her godmother, Ms. Lane.” “Ms. Lane, the famous actress! We’re so lucky to have you here today!” “And Crystal, haven’t you been in a bunch of TV shows? You’re practically America’s sweetheart.” “You two are just stunning. A real-life goddess mother-daughter duo.” Amidst the chorus of fawning, I gave them a cool nod. Laura’s eyes swept over me, her gaze dripping with disdain as she took in my faded, worn-out clothes. The contempt was palpable. She turned to her assistant, her voice laced with a saccharine poison clearly meant for me. “I hear there are so many neglected children from the countryside these days. It just goes to show, without parents to raise them properly, they don’t even learn basic manners.” The other girls in the room shifted uncomfortably. I stood there silently, a bitter mix of amusement and a familiar ache blooming in my chest. Did she not realize her insult ricocheted right back at her? Here we were, mother and daughter, face to face and complete strangers. The psychic connection that movie mothers always had with their long-lost children was, apparently, a complete fabrication. Crystal, however, had been staring at me for a while, her eyes glittering with undisguised jealousy. As a fellow young woman trying to make it in an industry built on looks, her focus was different from Laura’s. She wasn’t looking at my clothes; she was looking at my face. Laura had made a career out of her beauty, but I had inherited her best features and improved upon them, likely thanks to my unknown biological father. My face was small and delicate, with features that were almost unnervingly perfect. My appearance had clearly triggered a deep sense of insecurity in her. A natural animosity radiated from her. So, after Laura’s little speech, she put on a show of fake concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “My godmother wasn’t talking about you.” I lowered my gaze, refusing to meet her eyes. “I know she wasn’t,” I said quietly. “Because I’m an orphan.” The room fell silent. My other roommates looked at me with a mixture of pity and awkwardness, their gazes flicking meaningfully toward Laura and Crystal. Crystal quickly tried to change the subject. “Right. So, what’s your name?” I glanced at Laura, who was pretending to be engrossed in directing her assistants to make Crystal’s bed, and raised my voice just enough for her to hear clearly. “My name is Briar.” At the name, Laura, who had been pointedly ignoring me, whipped her head around. Her face paled, and her voice was strained when she spoke. “Briar? How do you spell that?” A small, knowing smile touched my lips. “Like the tree. My guardian said she hoped I would grow strong and resilient, with deep roots and branches reaching for the sun. A beautiful sentiment, don’t you think?” Her expression remained strained, but a flicker of relief crossed her features. “Yes,” she said, the words forced. “A lovely meaning.” I accepted her hollow compliment with a polite nod, wondering if she was thinking, just for a second, of the child she had abandoned thousands of miles away. The one she had named Squeak. 2 I knew from a very young age that I was an abandoned child, taken in by my aunt and uncle. For years, I clung to the naive fantasy that my real mother would one day come back for me. I even made excuses for her, imagining she had her reasons, that she had no other choice. That fantasy shattered when I discovered she was a famous actress. She could have afforded to keep me. The simple, brutal truth was that she just didn’t want me. I also knew, from a young age, that I had an ugly name. Whenever my aunt was angry, she would beat me, her words as sharp as her blows. “Squeak! You little sewer rat! Do you know why you’re named Squeak? Because your mother never wanted to see you! She wanted you to spend your whole life hiding in the gutter like a rodent, never able to climb out! Ha!” I didn’t want to believe her. But when I found out my mother was a celebrity, it all made a sick kind of sense. Laura Lane wanted me to live my life in the shadows, scurrying and silent, never getting in her way. She didn’t just abandon me; she branded me with a name meant to keep me down. I was relentlessly bullied for it. Adults and children alike treated me like vermin. The neglect and abuse from my aunt and uncle left me scrawny and small for my age. Until middle school, everyone called me “Dead Rat” or “Filth.” The constant verbal abuse and social ostracism made my life a living hell. Then, in middle school, I met the first true angel of my life: my homeroom teacher, Ms. Gable. She was a kind, wise woman who saw past the grime and the name. When she learned about the bullying, she suggested I change my name. I had no idea that was even possible. I was hesitant. I hated the name, but it was the only link I had to the woman who gave birth to me. So Ms. Gable helped me. She changed “Squeak” to “Briar.” She told me I had a gift for learning and that she hoped I would grow into a strong, resilient woman, bearing fruit for the world. For the first time, I had a name with a beautiful meaning. And my life began to change. When I finished middle school, my aunt and uncle refused to let me continue my education. But Ms. Gable came to our house and argued with them. She even offered to pay for my high school tuition and living expenses out of her own pocket. Because of her, I was able to finish. After graduation, I lied to my aunt and uncle. I told them I’d failed my entrance exams and was moving to another state to work in a factory, promising to send them money every month. That was the only way I could escape to attend university. The state I’d named was a world away from Ashton City. In their minds, I would never cross paths with Laura Lane. After all, the hush money she sent them every year was substantial. They never would have dreamed that I would not only come to her city but run into her on my very first day. 3 Laura was visibly uncomfortable. The name Briar clearly bothered her. She quickly pulled Crystal away, stopping her from talking to me any further. She then produced an armful of expensive skincare products from her bag, reminding Crystal to use sunscreen religiously during orientation to protect her skin for an upcoming audition. At the mention of an audition, my roommates’ ears perked up, and they crowded around, full of questions. Laura and Crystal basked in the attention, their faces glowing with self-satisfaction. “Our Crystal was personally invited to audition by Director Kane’s team,” Laura announced proudly, her arm around Crystal’s shoulders. “It’s a massive project, adapted from a bestselling novel, with A-list stars already attached. It’s going to be a huge hit. And the role Crystal is auditioning for is incredibly endearing. She’s going to gain a massive fanbase.” She patted Crystal’s cheek affectionately. “My sweet, talented girl. You’re amazing.” Watching their nauseatingly intimate performance, I took a deep breath and looked away. Laura spoke as if the role was already Crystal’s. Director Kane… I dug a crumpled business card out of my backpack. I remembered the middle-aged man who had stopped me at the university gates, pressing it into my hand. I typed his full name, Michael Kane, into my phone’s search bar. Sure enough, news articles popped up about his new film, the very one Laura had been boasting about. I was stunned. Was this fate? Karma? A wild, unbelievable stroke of luck? I couldn’t articulate the feeling swirling in my gut. But if the universe was handing me an opportunity on a silver platter, who was I to refuse? I opened my contacts and added Director Kane. 4 I thought seeing Laura in person meant I was finally over it, that I could be indifferent. But that night, a dream proved me wrong. In the dream, a blurry figure held me gently. “Sweetheart, open your eyes. It’s Mommy.” Her warmth was like the winter sun, and I instinctively snuggled closer. No one had ever called me sweetheart. In the dream, I was a baby again, my entire being steeped in a honeyed bliss. I was floating, soft and warm, bubbling with a happiness I had never known. So this is what it felt like to be cherished. It was intoxicating. Mommy. I wanted to see her, the mother who loved me. I struggled to open my eyes. And I saw Laura Lane, her face twisted with venom. Her hands closed around my neck. “You jinx! If it weren’t for you, I would have been a superstar by now! You curse! You deserve to live your entire life in the shadows!” “No… no… Mommy…” I cried, struggling against her grip. The scene shifted. My drunken uncle was dragging me by the wrists into a room like I was a stray dog. My aunt was right behind him, beating me with a broom, screaming that I was a worthless little slut, trying to seduce men at such a young age. She managed to pull me away from him, and terrified, bruised, and bleeding, I ran out of the house and toward town. I didn't know where to go. Ms. Gable found me wandering near the school and took me home. The dream ended with the image of her son, Alex, frowning at the sight of the dirty, battered girl standing on his doorstep. The intense shame and despair jolted me awake. My pillow was soaked with tears. 5 Not long after I contacted Director Kane, he called me in for an audition. Two weeks of orientation had left most of the students with a tan, but luckily, my skin doesn’t burn easily. After a brief reading, he clapped me on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “It’s like this role was written for you,” he said. From the short script I was given, I gathered that the character was a supporting role—a girl who was swapped at birth at the hospital, abused by her adoptive parents, but who, through sheer force of will, clawed her way out of the mud alongside the female lead. She eventually reunites with her wealthy biological parents and becomes the lead’s greatest ally. It was a fantastic character arc. Director Kane had a reputation for a reason; his eye for talent was sharp. It was uncanny how he had picked me out of a crowd, a girl who shared the character’s background and, to some extent, her life story. He kept the casting decision under wraps, so Crystal had no idea the role had already been filled. That evening in the dorm, she was doing her skincare routine and boasting about her audition the next day. “I’ll treat everyone to bubble tea when I get back to celebrate,” she announced. One of my roommates, Sasha, who was a local from Ashton City, was getting tired of Crystal’s constant bragging about a role she didn’t even have yet. “Hey, Crystal,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, “why don’t you take Briar with you to the audition? She’s even prettier than you are. Maybe the director will give her a part too. Then we’ll have two celebrities in our dorm!” Crystal’s face contorted with rage at Sasha’s blunt comparison. “It takes more than a pretty face to be an actress,” she sneered. “Briar has no training and no connections. But if she’s interested, I could probably get her a role as an extra. She could start by playing a corpse. You have to start small, you know.” The “playing a corpse” line was a deliberate, pathetic attempt to humiliate me. “That sounds great,” I replied with a bright smile. “I’ve actually been reading up on acting lately. If an opportunity like that comes up, don’t forget about me!” I knew perfectly well she would never lift a finger to help me. The next day, Laura came to the university to pick Crystal up for the audition. For some reason, she seemed even more invested in this role than Crystal was. I pulled out my phone and texted Director Kane, asking if I could come to the set to observe. He readily agreed, joking that they were casting my character’s parents today, so I might as well come and see if I had any chemistry with the actors. As I approached the studio, I saw Laura and Crystal waiting outside. Laura was fussing over Crystal, straightening her hair, smoothing her clothes, playing the part of the devoted, anxious mother to perfection. When Crystal finally went inside and was handed the script, her face fell. It wasn’t the script for the supportive best friend. It was for the bitchy, backstabbing villain. She stumbled through the audition. Her dazed, confused state actually worked for the character, and the director was surprisingly pleased with her performance. He was ready to offer her the part on the spot. Crystal stammered that she wanted to try for the other role, and only then did the director inform her it had already been cast. Later, Laura came in to audition as well, and I finally understood why she was so obsessed with Crystal getting that part. She wanted to play the main character’s mother. With their carefully curated “mother-daughter” brand, if Crystal had landed the role of the best friend, Laura would have been a shoo-in for the part of her wealthy, elegant mother. But now, with Crystal cast as the villain, the director offered Laura the role of the villain’s mother—a crass, abusive, lower-class shrew. The two roles were polar opposites. One was a sophisticated society lady; the other was a vulgar harpy. Playing the latter would completely destroy the image Laura had spent years building. She was torn. She couldn’t bear to miss out on such a high-profile project, but she was terrified of what the role would do to her career. The look of tortured indecision on her face was almost comical. I sat among the crew, my face hidden by a mask. Neither of them saw me. Afterward, I was about to slip out the back when I overheard them whispering. “I’ve already asked around,” Laura was saying, trying to soothe a fuming Crystal. “No one got the script for the other role today. It’s probably not officially cast yet. When the director comes out, we’ll try to talk to him again.” “Godmother, I already told all my fans I was playing the good girl!” Crystal whined, pushing Laura’s hand away. “They’ve already started promoting it online! How am I supposed to explain that I’m now some nameless, evil side character?” “Don’t worry, darling,” Laura said, her voice tight with anxiety. “I know people. As long as the studio hasn’t made an official announcement, we can still figure something out.” As I walked past them, Crystal glanced at my retreating back. “Godmother, doesn’t that person look a little like my roommate, Briar?” Laura scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. What would that country bumpkin be doing here? Probably trying to get a job as an extra. Let’s not even talk about her. She’s bad luck.”
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