My Mom Reposting My Uncensored Photos After My Death

I was dead.

I was hidden in the fridge for 40 days before they found my body.

I was completely naked, and my face was twisted into an eerie expression. Anyone could see the inhumane torture I had undergone before I died.

Then, high-definition uncensored photos of my body began to spread across the internet. Even in death, I could not escape the public's heated gaze as they judged and commented on my body.

"I expected nothing less from a celebrity who's all about fan service. She's incredibly hot!"

"I heard you had to pay 30 grand for a full day with her! Just imagine all the things the wealthy can do."

"So what if she was a celebrity? Those monsters will ruin whoever they want to."

Negative comments flooded the posts that contained those photos.

I shuddered as I turned to look at the middle-aged woman before me—Karen Palmer, my mom. Despite all the rumors flooding her phone, my mom nonchalantly scrolled through them all.

The biggest reaction I saw was a frown as she liked and reposted a comment saying 'Embarrassing'.

Then, she turned her phone off and continued with her day.

She was right. It was embarrassing.

She probably felt ashamed to have a daughter like me.

Ever since I joined the entertainment industry, 'embarrassing' had become the adjective she used to describe me the most.

I started as a less-known idol from a girl group and later gained infamy thanks to controversies. I did not become well-known due to my ability as a celebrity or my looks.

Everyone online disliked me, claiming that I was only good at fan service.

Now, they were saying that I intentionally died in an unconventional way for fame.

Death did not win me the sympathy or concern of the world. Instead, it gave them something more to discuss.

Some presumed that my death was accidental after a fun night in bed, while some assumed that I had offended one of my powerful bedmates.

No one pitied me. Not even my mom.

My mom's phone rang, and it was a call from my sister. She had been adamant about becoming an A-list celebrity these days.

After what happened to me, my mom would never agree.

"She got to the top by sleeping with people. Can you do the same? Penelope, all you need to do is inherit everything she left behind, okay?

"Are you as shameless as she is? Are you willing to do anything to get to the top, Penelope? No, you're not! So, how will you make a name for yourself? You're different. You're innocent, Penelope. You're clean."

She sounded so gentle when she spoke to Penelope.

I wanted to reach out, to grab my mom's hand and tell her to stop. I wanted to tell her that I did not get to the top by selling my body, that I did not choose to wear those revealing outfits, that I was forced, and that my contract was on the line.

I wanted to tell her that I did not try to seduce any man.

I was not just a celebrity who was good at fan service.

But ghosts could not talk. So, I watched my mom coax and console my sister until she finally agreed.

Finally, my mom smiled. "That's my good girl."

I cried.

…

Today marked the 40th day since I died and the 23rd year without anyone loving me.

"One more hour until the performance. You guys should eat something before we go on stage."

At the sound of a familiar voice, my eyes shot open.

I was in the waiting room, and my group's assistant was passing out low-calorie snacks.

She smiled when she reached me. "Eat something first before you have to change into your performance outfit. I look forward to your debut performance tonight."

Debut performance? As in the debut stage of my group—AM—in 2019?

I had managed to return to the day before the internet began to attack me.