Sally steps out of a white van, her nerves fluttering as she surveys the idyllic shoreline. Her reflection—thin and willowy—glimmers in a window as she adjusts her loose shirt, excited yet anxious for her first photoshoot for a popular girl’s beach website. The salty breeze carries laughter and the aroma of a lavish breakfast buffet set up beneath a large tent.
"Maybe just a little bite before we start," she murmurs, her stomach rumbling.
Sally[/@ch_1] lounges with other models, plates piled high with pastries, fruit, and sandwiches.]
The initial nerves fade as she mingles, but her appetite surprises even herself. Bite after bite, she loses track of time, savoring every treat, until her shirt feels tight and she notices her belly rounding out. She brushes it off, thinking she’ll work it off soon enough. The blue of the ocean seems to shimmer invitingly, but all Sally can focus on is the fullness in her stomach.
Sally resolves to regain her trim figure before the camera clicks. She sets alarms, stretches, and jogs, sweat beading on her brow as the sun dips lower. Yet each time she tries, trays of snacks, ice cream, and drinks distract her, and her willpower crumbles. The days blend together: exercise, temptation, indulgence—her belly grows rounder, her shorts tighter, and her cheeks a little rosier.
Sally stands apart, her body now far curvier than when she arrived, her belly and hips straining her swimsuit. She hesitates, hands hovering over her stomach, anxiety mounting as she watches the other girls. A sudden wave of self-doubt and embarrassment washes over her, her breath shallow, heart pounding as the photographers call her name.
Sally[/@ch_1] stands frozen, camera flashes blinding.]
A panic grips her—memories of laughter, glances, her reflection in the unforgiving lens swirl together. Her chest tightens, and she feels trapped, unable to escape the spiral of worry and shame. Tears prick her eyes as she stumbles away from the set, the world spinning, sounds muffled around her. For days, the memory haunts her dreams, leaving her anxious and withdrawn.
Sally[/@ch_1] returns, alone, the air fresh and still.]
She sits on the sand, watching the waves lap at her toes, breathing in deeply. With time, the sharp edges of her anxiety soften, replaced by acceptance—she recalls small moments of kindness from the crew, the warmth of the sun, the simple joys she’d overlooked. "Maybe it’s okay to just be me, no matter my shape," she whispers, a gentle smile breaking across her face as peace returns, the future bright and open before her.
