Years ago, I was the most beautiful woman in Canada-top model, international celebrity, adored and envied. People admired me, men desired me, women wanted to be me. I took such pride in my appearance, always perfecting every detail. Honestly, I worshipped myself. My beauty was my power. It was everything to me.
But everything changed in a heartbeat.
I lost my parents-my only family, the people I loved most in this entire world-five years ago. That fire... God, I remember it so clearly. We were having dinner together, laughing like we always did. It was just a normal evening. Nothing unusual, nothing alarming.
Then everything turned to ashes.
I woke up in the hospital, barely conscious. The pain was unbearable. My face... it was burned, ruined. When I looked in the mirror for the first time, I let out a scream so loud the nurses had to sedate me. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. That wasn't me. That couldn't be me.
After countless surgeries, skin grafts, and painful procedures, some parts of my face recovered. But the scars never fully disappeared. One side of my face still carries the marks of that night-raw, ugly reminders of everything I lost. My beauty. My career. My family. My identity.
Since then, I've kept my face hidden from the world. No one sees me without my scarf or veil. Not even myself, sometimes.
And love ? That died with the fire.
No man wants a woman who looks like a monster. I've been alone for five years now. The silence is suffocating. The longing is unbearable. I miss being touched, being kissed, being seen-not for the scars, but for the soul beneath them.
I crave love so badly it hurts. I would give up everything I own just for one man to say he loves me... for real. No pity. No lies.
In just a few months, I'll turn 26. I'm getting older, and it terrifies me.
-Sweetheart...
-Yeah, Mom ? What did you say ?
Her voice brings me back to reality.
She comes closer, her warm hands gently resting on my shoulders. Her eyes shine with that same motherly love that has never changed-not even after I became... this.
-You're beautiful, my love. I sing that to you every single day, don't I ?
I give her a sad smile, eyes filling with tears.
-You say that just to make me feel better. Why can't you tell me the truth ? That I'm hideous. That I don't look like anything anymore. That I'm a freak. Why do you lie to me just to spare my feelings ?
My voice breaks as tears spill down my cheeks.
She shakes her head firmly and cups my face in her hands.
-Stop hurting yourself. You are still beautiful. You just don't see it. Please, for the love of God, value yourself. You've locked yourself in this darkness for years now, hiding from life, hiding from hope. Enough ! Go out. See what's out there. Discover the good that still exists. Live, Angelica. You still have a future, damn it !
She's right. She always is. But her words feel like a punch to the chest. I wish I could believe her.
Later that night, I lie in bed and pick up my phone. I haven't touched it in years. I've been so disconnected from the world that I barely know how things work anymore. Is Facebook still a thing ? Are people still posting selfies and updates like nothing ever goes wrong ?
I open my photo gallery and start scrolling through old pictures. There I am-flawless, glowing, alive. And there they are-my parents, smiling beside me, unaware of what fate had in store.
I sob uncontrollably.
Then, suddenly, I get this urge... a strange, unexplained impulse. I log into my Facebook account.
I used to have thousands of followers, fans from all over the world. They adored me. Sent me gifts. Praised me like I was a goddess.
But now ?
Almost no one is left. They disappeared as soon as news of my condition spread. My beauty gone, their love vanished.
Disgusted, I'm about to log off when something catches my eye-a suggestion for a friend request. A man. Handsome. Mysterious. His name : Miguel Hernandez.
My heart skips a beat. What the hell ?
I stare at his picture longer than I should. He's breathtaking. I can't remember the last time I found a man attractive. It's been so long. But there's something about him... something intense in his eyes, something that calls to me.
Without thinking, I send him a friend request.
If he accepts, maybe-just maybe-I'll try to talk to him. Build a connection. A friendship. I won't hope for anything more. I can't. But still... I hope.
Point of View : Miguel Hernandez
For the fifth time in ten minutes, my phone buzzes again. I groan and pull away from the soft lips of my fiancée, clearly irritated.
I'm Miguel Hernandez-Mexican by birth, Canadian by residence. My whole family's still back in Mexico, but my career brought me here.
I'm 35 years old. I'm an athlete. A household name. Rich, sexy, and famous-yeah, I know what people say about me.
I'm also a telenovela actor. My face is plastered on TV screens around the world. Women throw themselves at me. Fame is a double-edged sword.
But only one woman matters to me-Jessica Lopez, also Mexican, and the love of my life.
Jessica is perfect. Curves in all the right places, a face that could stop traffic, and brains to match. She's the total package. And she's mine.
-Baby, that phone of yours is killing the vibe. Can't you shut it off ?
Her voice is laced with frustration, but her lips are still on my skin. I kiss her neck, hungry for more. Yeah, I'm a bad boy most of the time, but with her, I'm serious. She's not a fling. She's my future.
We're at my place tonight. I just got back from a long tour, and I needed some serious downtime. Nothing better than being home... with her.
-Don't worry, my love. I'll turn it off.
She smiles and nods approvingly.
I pick up my phone, ready to shut it off, when a notification pops up. Friend request. From someone named Angelica.
Normally, I ignore these. Especially from women. They're usually obsessed fans, trying to flirt, message, cling. I hate that.
But something stops me this time. Her name. Her profile picture-hidden, mysterious. There's something different about her.
Without even thinking, I hit "Accept."
-Is it off yet ?
Jessica asks.
I nod and finally turn off the phone. But even as I go back to kissing her, my thoughts drift to the woman behind that friend request.
Angelica.
There's something about her I can't shake.
We'll see where this goes...