Maldo Fam

Comments

Vote. Comment. Thanks.

Chapter 9

"Welcome to the gender reveal party!" Shinobia announced brightly into the camera, masking her inner turmoil with a practiced smile.

At 20 weeks along, Maggie was eager to wring more content from the pregnancy by filming the scripted moment Shinobia and Bruce would "learn" the gender. In reality, Maggie had long since been informed by Dr. Fields, withholding the news from Shinobia intentionally to capture genuine reactions for the camera.

Now Maggie orchestrated each detail like a director blocking a climatic film scene. She had crafted the perfect set - the nursery decorated with balloons and streamers in gender-neutral colors. Props ready for the "reveal" - a cake to cut open filled with either blue or pink interior.

Maggie scrutinized the frame, ensuring all details sufficiently conveyed the required delight. Once satisfied, she called action, hungry eyes fixed on Shinobia awaiting her unscripted discovery.

Shinobia clasped Bruce's clammy hand, more for her own balance than selling their fictional joy. His presence was a small comfort amidst the stage-managed chaos swirling around her constantly expanding form.

Right on cue, Shinobia sliced open the cake under Maggie's intense gaze. She watched pink cream ooze out and tried to ignore Maggie urging an enthusiastic response for the lens. Summoning a convincing grin, Shinobia turned to Bruce.

"It's a girl!" she exclaimed breathlessly, letting manufactured emotion flood her tear ducts on command. Cameras snapped furiously to capture every detail of her performance, eager for the money shot.

"A daughter," Bruce echoed with clumsy emotion. But his delivery hardly mattered. Shinobia carried the scene flawlessly, hugging her belly and voicing elation over the falsified news. A perfect pregnant tableau.

Finally Maggie called cut, beaming. "Well done! I couldn't have scripted it better myself." She squeezed Shinobia's shoulder possessively. "The fans will swoon over our sweet family."

Shinobia nodded mutely, the grueling scene completed. Another authentic milestone perverted into cheap spectacle. She yearned to scrub her very skin of the cloying residue left behind.

But the public only saw the polished edit later posted online. A touching portrait of elated parents-to-be, the naive audience ever eager to share in imagined intimacies paraded before the camera's intrusive gaze.

Maggie lapped up their effusive praise, effortlessly redirecting the conversation to product sponsorships and partnerships riding the viral wave. Soon Shinobia's daughter was reduced to mere marketing leverage, her existence commodified before drawing her first breath.

Privately, Shinobia weathered the milestones with stoicism that left her hollow. Showers filled with useless gifts selected by Maggie, not herself. Photo shoots capturing contrived bliss that masked Shinobia's distress bearing the physical burden alone.

At times Shinobia was struck with the urge to run screaming into the street, tearing at her imprisoning skin until she stood stripped bare. Anything to rip off the suffocating mask maintaining the sickening illusion.

But she remained anchored by the persistent fluttering deep within, her daughter inhabiting her stolen body with blameless joy. For her sake, Shinobia clung fiercely to sanity, determined to shield her innocent spirit. She had to endure this violation so that one day her child might know freedom beyond it.

And so Shinobia persisted, her body now merely a vessel carrying precious cargo. She retreated deep behind its borrowed walls, safeguarding the kindling of hope still burning determinedly, awaiting the day it would ignite into righteous flames that could finally purify and set them free.