Chapter 5
1217words
Ava's response earned universal acclaim. The public marveled that a twenty-year-old newcomer could display such poise and dignity when faced with fame, fortune, and adoration on a silver platter.
This incident perfectly foreshadowed the global phenomenon about to unfold.
Marcus Thorne's film premiered.
In this art film laden with cryptic symbolism and cold metaphors, Ava's "Seraphina" cut through the darkness like moonlight, providing the sole moment of beauty and respite. Each time she appeared on screen, theaters erupted in audible gasps. She didn't need acting technique—her face itself was the performance, embodying sorrow, purity, desire, and redemption.
Critics were divided, debating fiercely whether Marcus was "deliberately obscure" or "revolutionizing cinematic language."
But audiences were unanimous—they returned to theaters repeatedly, drawn by the magnetic presence of Ava Miller.
In the end, this art film—predicted to be commercial suicide—grossed nearly a billion dollars worldwide, becoming the year's most unexpected blockbuster.
Overnight, Ava Miller became a global sensation.
Critics called her "a Golden Age echo in the twenty-first century" and "the renaissance of silver screen beauty." Journalists exhausted their thesauruses describing her allure. From unknown Kansas girl to Hollywood's highest-paid actress in one meteoric rise.
For Ava, the most tangible evidence was the astronomical figure in her bank account—a number she had to count repeatedly to believe.
When Julian handed her the financial statement, Ava stared at the eight-figure payment, her fingers trembling. She didn't think of designer clothes or sports cars or mansions—only that her parents would never again work themselves to exhaustion.
Her first action was instructing Julian to establish an anonymous college scholarship fund in Prairie View, specifically for students from struggling families like hers.
Her second was having Julian's team purchase the house she'd dreamed of since childhood—a two-story white farmhouse with a wraparound porch and sprawling garden at the end of Oak Street.
She remembered pressing her face against the fence as a child, imagining what it would be like to live there.
When Julian handed her the envelope containing the keys and deed, Ava immediately called her parents.
"Dad, Mom," her voice thick with emotion, "you can retire now."
A long silence followed, then the sound of muffled sobs. In that moment, Ava knew every bit of pressure and anxiety had been worthwhile. Her beauty-born fortune had finally found its truest, warmest purpose.
Just as Ava's career reached its zenith, the system's voice returned.
[Core Phase Mission Released: Become the undisputed visual focus at a world-class fashion event.]
[Mission Requirements: With absolute personal charm, overshadow all carefully designed clothing, jewelry, and makeup.]
[Mission Rewards: "Sacred Halo" (enhanced halo effect, bestowing divine beauty), Charm +20, unlock "Temperament Fine-tuning" permission.]
This task seemed more ambitious than any previous challenge. The perfect opportunity presented itself almost immediately.
The Met Gala—fashion's equivalent of the Oscars—extended an invitation.
This year's theme: "Fashion and the Fantasy of Divinity." A stage seemingly designed for Ava's mission. Celebrities, socialites, and designers worldwide would spare no expense creating the most extravagant interpretations.
Julian's team contacted every major fashion house, seeking the most spectacular gown possible. After reviewing dozens of elaborate, jewel-encrusted creations, Ava rejected them all.
She chose instead an extremely minimalist white silk gown from an unknown designer.
The dress had no embellishments, no embroidery, not a single jewel. Even its cut was radically simple, flowing around her slender figure like liquid moonlight.
When Ava announced her choice, everyone thought she'd lost her mind.
At the Met Gala—where outrageous spectacle was the currency of success—such "plainness" seemed like surrender, a guarantee she'd vanish among the peacocking celebrities in their elaborate costumes.
Only Ava understood this was central to her mission: to overshadow all those meticulously crafted costumes. She was betting everything on her face and the system's mysterious aura.
On Met Gala night, the Metropolitan Museum steps transformed into fashion's most extravagant battlefield. Celebrities dripped with crosses, sprouted massive angel wings, or transformed themselves into walking religious iconography.
Camera flashes strobed and fans screamed as each new arrival pushed the boundaries of imagination and taste.
Until Ava's car pulled up.
When the door opened and a delicate ankle in a simple white satin heel touched the carpet, the surrounding chaos seemed to pause.
Then Ava emerged fully.
The moment she came into full view, the world fell silent.
She wore no jewelry, her dark hair flowing like silk down her back, perfectly complementing the stark white gown. The evening breeze lifted her dress hem and hair strands in gentle undulation. She resembled a marble goddess stepped from an ancient Greek temple, bathed in moonlight for millennia, radiating a cool, sacred luminescence.
The "Sacred Halo" merged seamlessly with her natural presence.
On the red carpet, the elaborately designed, million-dollar ensembles suddenly looked like cheap costume shop rentals—gaudy and absurd in her presence.
After that moment of stunned silence came an explosion of camera flashes and shouts. Every lens swiveled toward Ava. Photographers called her name like men possessed, desperately trying to capture this otherworldly vision.
Even the notoriously critical "Fashion Priestess" herself—Vogue's Anna Wintour—paused for several seconds when passing Ava, offering an almost imperceptible nod.
Ava became the evening's sole, undisputed focal point.
Without speaking a word, she conquered the fashion world through pure, undiluted beauty.
[Task completed.]
[Reward granted: "Sacred Halo" has been equipped, Charm +20, current Charm value 67 (World-class Beauty).]
["Temperament Adjustment" permission unlocked, facial contours and features have been optimized according to divine aesthetic standards.]
That night, Ava studied herself in her hotel mirror. Her features seemed more fluid and harmonious, and between her brows appeared a hint of divine compassion—a pure, artistic beauty transcending gender and desire. Her allure had undergone another transformation.
After the Met Gala, Ava's fame reached unprecedented heights. She graced every major magazine cover and became the most coveted partner for luxury brands worldwide.
.
Two weeks later, Ava ran into Leo at a secluded Malibu café.
"I knew you'd steal the show," Leo said first, his tone holding no jealousy—only genuine admiration.
"Thank you." Ava smiled, ordering his favorite iced Americano.
They avoided mentioning the party incident, chatting like old friends about work and life. The atmosphere was comfortable yet tinged with an unspoken sense of closure.
As she prepared to leave, Leo caught her arm.
"Ava," he said, his eyes showing acceptance, "you were right. I'm not worthy to stand beside you yet. But I'll work on that."
Ava felt a slight tug at her heart, but simply smiled and said: "Good luck."
That afternoon, Leo updated his Twitter. The attached image showed the moon rising in a star-filled sky.
The tweet instantly went viral. It announced the end of their widely-followed rumored romance in the most dignified, poetic way possible.
There were no fan attacks, no accusations—only well-wishes for both parties.
Leo's grace and genuine affection earned widespread praise. And Ava emerged not just unscathed but elevated—her image as clear-headed, independent, and self-sufficient further cemented.
Her fans adored her, whatever choices she made.
Ava sat by her apartment's floor-to-ceiling window, watching discussions about the tweet explode across her phone. Outside, the California sunset melted into the horizon, painting the sky in molten gold.
She switched off her phone, experiencing an unfamiliar sense of peace and clarity.
