Page 3 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

I froze.

The crowd did, too.

Carmen inhaled sharply, a barely-there sound behind me.

My voice dropped to a dangerous hush. “Say that again.”

Ava smirked, teetering on her heels, eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. “You heard me. The ‘poor little small-town girl’ narrative? It’s tired. People talk, Riley. And some of us remember who you werebeforethe glow up.”

And just like that, something snapped.

I stepped forward, every word sharp as a blade.

“You want to talk fake?” I hissed. “You’ve been lying about who you are since your first sponsored teeth whitening post. You reinvent yourself every six months based on whatever gets the most clicks. One day you’re a recovery warrior, the next you’re a girlboss, now it’s crystal baths and moon journaling. When’s therealAva gonna show up?”

Gasps. A phone flash. A nervous titter of laughter somewhere in the crowd.

But I wasn’t done.

“You talk about lifting other women up, but the second someone starts doing better than you, youinsertyourself. You sabotage. And then you wrap it up in some performativefeminism like it’s brand strategy. You don’t support women. You compete with them.”

Ava’s mouth fell open. Her face flushed, either from the alcohol or the fury. “You bitch.”

I smiled. Cold. Final. “You said it, not me.”

And that’s when it happened.

A single voice from behind us, too gleeful, too late:

“I got that whole thing. Holyshit.”

Phones everywhere. Red recording lights blinking. Carmen’s hand gripped my arm tight, too tight, as if she could physically hold back the consequences.

Too late. The clip would be online in minutes.

And my carefully curated empire?

Cracking wide open.

It didn’t take hours. It tookminutes.

The clip, edited down to thirty vicious, contextless seconds, spread like digital wildfire. The soundbite? Crystal clear:

“You don’t support women… You compete with them.”

Cut to Ava’s hurt face. Cue gasps. Add captions, bold and brutal:

Riley Brooks EXPOSED as a fake feminist???

#MeanGirlEnergy #ToxicQueen #CancelRiley

By the time I made it home—with my makeup smudged and hair falling out of its perfect curls—the damage was done.

I sat on my couch, still in the beaded dress, staring at the bomb my phone had become.

The comments were endless. Brutal.

She really thinks she’s better than everyone.

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