My little brother is the internet’s most hated pop star. So when we signed up for a family reality show together, he tiptoed around like he was walking on eggshells, while I was out there raising hell. I’d pick a fight with a stray dog just for looking at me wrong.

My brother, Liam, would whisper, “Aria, for the love of God, just tone it down. I’m begging you.”

But his fans? They were eating it up. “This is awesome! Keep going, we live for this!”

1

I’d just gotten back to the States after studying abroad when my brother, Liam, landed a gig on a new family-centric reality show.

He asked Mom to join him. She just sipped her tea and said, cool as a cucumber, “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t be caught dead on that kind of thing.”

He asked Dad. Without even looking up from a mountain of paperwork, Dad grunted, “A million a day, and I'll think about it.”

Liam was speechless.

Defeated, he turned his pleading, puppy-dog eyes on me.

I threw my hands up with a grin. “It’s just a reality show, right? Don’t worry, big sis has got your back.”

I saw Mom give me a look, one that screamed, Are you sure about this?

Liam, on the other hand, was practically weeping with gratitude. He threw his arms around me. “Aria, you’re the best. Seriously, I’m so lucky to have you.”

I patted his head, feeling a swell of pride. “Hey, look at you, little bro. You’re a huge star now. I’m so proud to have a brother like you.”

He shifted awkwardly, a blush creeping up his neck. “Aria… maybe you should, uh… check the internet first?”

I’d been in such a rush coming home that I hadn’t had time to catch up on the latest gossip. Puzzled but still smiling, I pulled out my phone and opened up Chirper.

And then my smile froze.

He was famous, all right. Just in a completely different way.

From the moment he’d debuted two years ago, the internet had been a cesspool of vitriol directed at him. His singing and dancing were decent, but he’d landed a top spot on a competitive reality show, and the consensus was that he’d only gotten there by crying his way through it. They’d even compiled clips of his dancing into a viral montage titled “Senior Citizen Rehab Exercises.”

In that moment, I deeply regretted saying, “I’m so proud of you.”

And I knew, with absolute certainty, that he was about to deeply regret saying, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

2

The show, The Family Project, was filming for seven days at a sprawling mountain resort, all of it broadcasted live. From the second we set foot on the property, a drone was buzzing over our heads, capturing everything.

When Liam and I arrived at the base of the mountain, another pair of contestants was already there. The guy looked to be in his mid-twenties, tan and tall, with a girl in athletic wear standing next to him. They were huddled together, whispering, and the girl looked seriously pissed off.

The moment she saw us, her chin shot up and she let out a sharp, disdainful huff.

Liam leaned in and murmured in my ear, “That’s Adam Vance. On that reality show two years ago, he was ranked 12th—the last one cut before the finale. The internet trolls all say I stole his spot.”

I got it instantly. Classic reality TV drama-baiting.

As we walked over, Adam put on a show of being the humble, wronged martyr, offering us a meek greeting. My brother, already terrified of the online hate, was practically trembling as he reached out to shake Adam’s hand, a nervous, almost apologetic smile on his face.

Even so, the live-stream comments were a firestorm of abuse for Liam:

“Poor Adam. Having to film with the guy who stole his dream.”

“That manufactured pretty-boy face of Liam’s makes me sick. How can a guy be so soft?”

“Adam is such a good guy, greeting him like that. Liam has zero class.”

“If it wasn’t for his face, what does Liam even have? Adam is better in every way!”

I stood there, my face a blank mask, just watching Adam. He finally turned his friendly, practiced smile on me.

“You must be Liam’s sister, right? I’m Adam Vance, and this is my sister, Zoe. She won the national youth dance championship last year.”

At the mention of her title, Zoe’s chin lifted even higher. She shot me a dismissive look. “Oh, so Liam actually has a sister.”

Adam added, a hint of pity in his voice, “Liam doesn’t like to talk about his family in public. It’s understandable if you didn’t know.”

Zoe’s smirk widened. “Makes sense. When you get by on looks alone, I guess your family isn’t much to brag about.”

3

The Vance siblings were clearly here to start a war, and I wondered if the producers had put them up to it. The live-stream audience was eating it up.

“Yeah, I couldn’t find anything online about Liam’s family.”

“I saw some deep-dive posts saying his family is pretty average. Explains why he had to play the victim card to get famous and make money.”

My brow furrowed slightly. Liam saw it and subtly pressed his hand on my arm. “Aria, just let it go. You don’t want to piss off the fans.”

While we waited for the other contestants, Adam and Zoe kept up their attack, a machine gun of rapid-fire boasts.

“The youth dance championship, you know what that is? Oh, right, I forgot you probably don’t dance. You wouldn’t have a clue.”

“Honestly, winning the national title is just okay. My real goal is to win an international competition within five years.”

The comments poured in:

“Of course Adam’s sister is amazing too. Talent runs in the family.”

“A dance champion! The irony, compared to a certain someone who got a top spot and can’t do anything.”

“His sister isn’t even saying anything. Guess that family really is all looks and no substance.”

Zoe was getting more and more smug. I suddenly turned to my brother. “Go get me a bottle of water.”

Liam, ever the obedient little brother, nodded and went to find a staff member.

The second he was out of earshot, I turned my dead-eyed gaze back to them.

“Adam, was it?” I started, my voice flat. “Your sister is a dance champion. What about you? What are your credentials? Any titles? Awards?” I pulled out my phone and tapped open a search bar. “The only thing I can find about you online is a 12th-place finish on a reality show. For someone who loves to brag so much, if you had anything else, I’m sure you would have plastered it all over the internet by now.”

Adam’s face went stiff.

I then turned to Zoe. “The national youth dance championship? Which one? What division? What was the scale of the event? Because as far as I know, there are at least twenty ‘youth dance competitions’ held in this country every year, and more than half of them are less prestigious than your brother’s 12th-place finish.”

Zoe was speechless.

4

Their faces cycled through shades of red and green, a truly hideous sight. I coolly looked away. Alright, Aria, take it easy. Don’t break the children.

I was ready to call a truce, but they weren’t.

Zoe, her eyes wide with defiance, shot back, “That’s because my brother is humble! Everyone knows he was way more talented than Liam on Idol Factor!”

“Oh,” I said.

She faltered, then took a deep breath. “I won the championship for Dance Fever last year. That’s a hell of a lot better than you and your brother, a pair of empty-headed pretty faces.”

Dance Fever. I actually recognized the name. My nine-year-old niece had won it three years in a row. She’d skipped it last year, though, complaining that the judging was rigged.

Zoe’s arrogant tone was starting to get on my nerves. I stood up and walked over to the nearest staffer, pointing a thumb back at her. The drone buzzed closer.

“She’s making personal attacks. Isn’t your show going to do anything about that?”

The staffer made a placating gesture. “This is a live broadcast. The production team can’t interfere during filming.”

A slow, dawning realization spread across my face. “So, you don’t step in, even if someone is verbally abusive?”

“Per the rules, we cannot intervene.”

“I understand perfectly.”

This simple exchange, however, sent the live-stream comments into a frenzy.

“What is she doing? Tattling? Is she five? How pathetic!”

“Just like her brother, always playing the victim.”

“Okay, Zoe is a bit much, but at least she has actual talent. All this woman can do is whine to the staff?”

“The producers obviously want them to fight. Tattling is useless. She looks like a clown.”

“Only knows how to pull these cheap tricks behind people’s backs. At least Zoe is direct.”

5

By the time I rejoined the group, two more pairs of contestants had arrived. Zoe was still holding court, regaling everyone with tales of her competition glory.

I listened for a moment, then casually remarked, “Dance Fever, huh? I think I remember that one.”

Every head in the group swiveled toward me.

Zoe’s triumphant smile faltered, but she still managed a smug, “Pretty impressive, right?”

I offered a small, knowing smile. “I was invited, but I couldn’t make it.”

“Why not?”

“I was in Europe for The Monaco Grand Prix of Dance.”

She was completely hooked now, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What place did you get?”

Anyone in the dance world knew The Monaco Grand Prix was one of the most prestigious competitions on the planet.

The comments flew across the screen:

“She’s gotta be lying. Does she know how elite the Monaco Grand Prix is?”

“The competitors are the best of the best from every country. If she’s that good, how is her brother such a dud?”

I lifted my gaze, and with everyone waiting with bated breath, I said, my face a perfect deadpan, “Oh, I was on the judging panel.”

Zoe just stared.

The silence stretched for a full ten seconds.

Finally, Zoe’s voice shot up, cracking. “You’re lying! You’re only in your twenties, there’s no way!”

I tilted my head. “The Monaco Grand Prix has twelve different regional circuits. I was just a judge for one of them, not the grand finals.” Then, as if a thought just occurred to me, I glanced at the dumbstruck Adam and let out a small, sharp laugh. “Twelve regions. How funny. Just like your rank.”

Adam looked like he’d been slapped.

Zoe was practically vibrating with rage. “Impossible! You’re making it all up!”

I looked at her like she was the dumbest person I’d ever met. “The list of judges is public record. You can look it up online.” I paused, then added sweetly, “Oh, and by the way, the name’s Aria. Aria Serrano.”

6

At first, the audience reacted just like Zoe. The comments were a wall of disbelief, calling me a liar and a braggart.

Then, someone posted a screenshot. It was from the official website of The Monaco Grand Prix of Dance, showing the panel of judges for the sixth regional circuit. And there it was, nestled among a list of long, European-sounding names, was one that stood out for its simple elegance:

Aria Serrano.

“HOLY SHIT, SHE’S ACTUALLY A JUDGE.”

“MY GOD, just competing in that is insane, but she was a JUDGE? How good is she?!”

“Okay, she’s a badass, but Liam still can’t do anything. The fact is, he stole Adam’s spot. His sister’s talent doesn’t change that.”

“Exactly. Don’t get distracted. Aria might be legit, but Liam still needs to get out of the industry.”

“Am I the only one who thinks Aria’s insults are kind of hilarious? LOL, look at Adam’s face, it’s literally green.”

“…”

The discussion was cut short when Liam came trotting back, a bottle of water in his hand. He beamed at me.

I took it from him, twisting the cap off with practiced ease. “What took you so long?”

“They were short-handed setting up some equipment, so I gave them a hand.”

“Oh. Well, everyone’s here now. Let’s go.”

Only then did Liam look up and offer a cheerful greeting to the others. A moment later, he shuffled back to my side, whispering in what he thought was a quiet voice, “Sis, is it just me, or is the atmosphere a little… weird? What did you guys talk about while I was gone?”

The venomous glares from both Adam and Zoe shot straight to me.

I remained perfectly composed, tilting my head with an air of pure innocence. “Weird? What are you talking about? We’re all getting along swimmingly.”

7

By the time our group of eight contestants finally reached the resort lodge near noon, we were all exhausted. The lodge was huge, with a hotel-style front and orchards and a small farm out back. The production team led us inside and promptly vanished, leaving us to fend for ourselves for food and everything else.

Based on last season, this was the moment where the contestants were supposed to delegate chores.

Adam, ever the self-appointed leader, stood up with a warm, placating smile. “Zoe and I can handle the cooking. Kiki, could you and your mom go pick some vegetables from the garden? And Rick, would you and your girlfriend mind washing the rice and prepping the veggies?”

Everyone was slumped on the sofas, worn out from the hike up the mountain, and nobody looked eager to move. Kiki, a young singer terrified of being labeled “lazy” by the online mob, forced a pained smile. “Okay.” Rick, a veteran actor who knew the reality show game, didn't object either.

Finally, Adam’s gaze fell on my brother and me.

I was curled up on the sofa, completely engrossed in my phone. As a camera panned over, everyone clearly heard the crisp, feminine voice from my game: “Mahjong! I win!”

“…”

My brother sat bolt upright beside me, like a first-grader on his first day of school. When he saw Adam looking at us, he nudged me. “Aria, time to work.”

I was on a winning streak and ignored him. He sighed and stood up, asking Adam, “Is there anything we can help with?”

Adam’s expression softened slightly. “Could you two handle the dishes after lunch?”

“Yes! A perfect hand!” I cheered, slapping my knee. Hearing his question, I answered without looking up. “Nope.”

Adam’s brow furrowed. “Lunch is more meaningful when everyone contributes.”

“Are you for real?” I shifted on the sofa and started a new game. “You eat to fill your stomach. The only reason these people are going along with you is because there are cameras here. If you tried pulling this crap at home, your own mother would smack you.”

“…”

8

Adam was clearly struggling to keep his anger in check. “So you won’t even do something as simple as washing the dishes?”

I shrugged. “If it’s so simple, you and your sister can do it.”

He finally snapped. “Everyone else is doing their part. You’re just sitting there playing games. Don’t you feel the least bit guilty?”

“Weren’t you the one assigning tasks this whole time?” I finally looked up at him, my face a mask of wide-eyed innocence. “You’re just banking on the fact that everyone else is too polite to say no. Stop with the moral grandstanding. I’m not burdened by a conscience.”

“…”

Seeing her brother flustered, Zoe marched over to confront me. “Aria, even if you’re some international superstar, you can’t just throw your weight around like this. You’re not doing a single thing. Are you just going to wait for everyone to cook and serve you a meal?”

Liam, who had been trying to get me to stop, bristled at her accusation. “My sister’s not like that,” he mumbled defensively.

The live-stream audience was in an uproar:

“Aria’s attitude is disgusting.”

“Is she really just going to wait for others to feed her?”

“The Serrano siblings are such drama queens. Ugh!”

Adam took a deep, steadying breath, his patience worn thin. “I’m not obligated to cook for you, either. If you refuse to help, then you can figure out your own lunch.”

“Figure it out ourselves?” Liam panicked, looking at me with wide, desperate eyes. “Aria, I’ve never seen you cook in my life!”

I stared back at him. “And can you wash dishes?” Before he could answer, I rolled my eyes. “You can’t even wash your own socks.”

Liam fell silent.

Having delivered his ultimatum, Adam herded the other contestants off to the kitchen. I, meanwhile, stayed comfortably nested on the sofa, resuming my game.

About twenty minutes later, Kiki returned with a basket, looking dejected. “There are fish and chickens out back, but my mom and I have no idea how to catch them.”

Adam glanced at the sad-looking pile of vegetables in her basket and offered a weak reassurance. “It’s fine. Vegetables are healthy.”

He could say that, but when the table was set with nothing but a few bland, meatless dishes, no one knew where to start. Even so, Zoe couldn’t resist gloating.

“Time to eat! My brother’s cooking is amazing, everyone dig in.” She then shot a pointed look at me and Liam. “Looks like some people will be going hungry today. So much for cutting off your nose to spite your face. They don’t deserve any pity.”

Just as the words left her mouth, a voice called from outside. “Excuse me, delivery for an Aria Serrano?”

I nudged my brother with my foot. “Go get it.”

He looked completely bewildered. “Who is it, sis?”

I was still lost in my game, not even bothering to look up. “Oh. DoorDash.”

“…”

9

The dining table was massive, which only made the few plates of limp vegetables look even more pathetic.

Liam and I started unpacking the delivery, and in moments, the entire table was covered. Fried chicken, pizzas, spicy noodle bowls—you name it, we had it. The second we opened the containers, the irresistible aroma filled the entire room.

Zoe stared, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You can’t just order takeout!”

I was already halfway through a piece of chicken. “Is there a rule against it?”

She was speechless for a second. “No one on a reality show has ever ordered takeout before.”

I took a huge gulp of soda and glanced at my brother. “Is that true?”

He was delicately eating his noodles. “Yeah, it is, sis.”

“So what? The producers don’t care.”

Just then, I heard Kiki swallow hard. There was no way we could finish all this food, so I gestured to the others. “Hey, come on, join us.”

Kiki looked at me, shocked. “Can we?”

“Of course you can.”

By the end, even Rick and his girlfriend had abandoned the vegetable table and joined our feast.

Adam and Zoe’s faces were a picture of pure disgust, as if they’d just swallowed a fly. They glared at us, radiating waves of resentment. Finally, they couldn’t take it anymore and slammed their chopsticks down. “Aria, you’ve gone too far!”

I elegantly wiped my mouth. “Whatever do you mean?”

Zoe pointed a trembling finger at the mountain of uneaten takeout. “You ordered all this food just to win everyone over and spite us, didn’t you?”

I was so done with her. I gave her a thumbs-up. “Some people just talk out of their ass for fun, but you’ve made it a goddamn art form.”

My brother almost choked, his chopsticks clattering against his bowl. He reached out to grab my arm. “Aria, just stop…”

But he forgot one crucial thing about me: once I’m full, I get bored. And when I get bored, I like to stir up trouble.