By Ishola Ubaidah

I knew Shiela Dorris had serious issues. Her beautiful, milky complexion might conceal the chaos going on in her soul, but after staying glued religiously to the back-to-back episodes of the TV series, I could definitely see through her outer flawlessness. 
Beneath the young adult’s inspiring lifestyle was a secret hidden behind the closed door of her cozy mansion. The secret had been in her basement for weeks now, helplessly tied to a chair, with its mouth taped, so no one would be suspicious of its presence. 
I still hadn’t come to terms with the sudden contrast in her character, when just a few episodes before, I’d been a huge fan of her success story; how she’d literally built her fashion house from nothing but consistent ideas and lots of focus. At twenty-four, she was everything I wanted to be… 
But like they say, all that glitters was truly not gold. 
I watched her slip the weapon out of her custom-made purse, fingers fiddling with the lethal trigger. The end of the episode was near, and I desperately wished she’d spare the reporter’s life. 
But unfortunately, she looked like her mind was already made up. Smiling, she pulled the trigger.

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