Viper Strikes Back

"Ma'am, I filled in the wrong address." The assistant explained awkwardly, looking at the box I was holding. "You haven't opened it yet, right?"

I looked down at the parcel in my hands, and even though the parcel didn't say what it was, anyone who'd bought this specific brand before would be able to tell instantly what it was.

I smiled, and handed it back to the assistant. "Don't worry, I haven't. Here."

The assistant retrieved the parcel and left with an apology.

The night before, Zephyr Grant had asked me, "Honey, are bras without underwire more comfortable?"

I thought he wanted to give me a gift, so I put down the milk that I had warmed up for him and smiled. "Do you know my size?"

My size was slightly different than average, so I always need to head personally to shops to try out their sizes when it came to underwear.

Zephyr and I had been married for years by now, and he had never given me any proper gifts before. He'd always wire me the money and let me pick myself, so hearing him ask about it properly was like if pigs suddenly learned how to fly. I carefully taught him the different brands and styles of underwear, as well as how to pick out sizes, and I even left one of my bras by his pillow 'on accident'.

The next day was my birthday, and to say I was in anticipation would be an understatement.

Lo and behold, the parcel arrived, but so did Zephyr's assistant.

-

Naturally, I was disappointed, but I still comforted myself, thinking that he might have bought the wrong size. He was a complete rookie when it came to this sort of thing, after all, so it was understandable.

I kept on waiting until afternoon, but there was no news from Zephyr.

There was, however, news from somebody else.

Samantha Davis missed the chance to attend the Floral Gala because of breast surgery. As she was one of the most popular candidates for best female leading actress, this news spread through the internet like wildfire.

When I saw this news, my daughter was scrolling on her phone. I glanced at a picture on her phone, but I couldn't get a closer look before she slammed her phone downwards. Taken aback by the furious expression on her face, I didn't react in time to dodge the pillow that was thrown in my face. "Why weren't you the one who got sick instead?!"

My brain lagged, as if it were trying to confirm who the person that just talked to me was.

Daphne had always been an obedient and lovely child, but she had undergone an inexplicable change within the past year, changing from a demure and kind girl who often blushed into someone who swore like a pirate all day.

I had already lost count of the number of times she had cursed me.

My expression became cold, but before I could teach her a lesson, she hopped off the sofa, and shouted, "If you hadn't seduced Dad back in the day, my mom would've been Samantha instead! You're so shameless!"

As if she were worried that I'd have trouble understanding what she just said, she increased her volume. "Don't even get me started on those fans of yours. They're even more shameless than you! They said that Samantha deserved getting sick, so I'll curse you to death so that she can become my mom instead!"

Smack!

I could feel my palm stinging.

Daphne held her face in disbelief, her eyes becoming red as she teared up. "You… You hit me! How dare you hit me?!"

"The next time you say something like that, I'll make sure you won't be able to say it again!"

Daphne glared at me in hatred. "I'm embarrassed to have a mother like you!"

After that, she ran back to her room.

I stood there, dumbstruck, taking a deep breath in an effort to calm the pain in my chest. The moment the door closed, I plopped on the sofa, as if that exchange took all of my energy.

Daphne's phone was still on the table, filled with chats that were still active. From where I sat, I could see the curses and pictures edited with ill-intent directed toward me. That was a group chat filled with my haters, and my daughter was the group admin.

My heart was numb with sadness. I reached and grabbed for the phone, seeing the group announcement my daughter had just posted.

"Today, we'll flood that old viper's tags!"

Old viper—that was what they called me. Before I left the entertainment industry, I was well-known for my slightly upturned eyes, but my haters loved calling me a viper instead.

I was very popular, back in the day, but even twelve years after I left the industry, my haters were still as active as ever.

What really hurt me, however, was how my daughter hated me to this extent.

The phone slid from my hand, and I looked up at the television screen, seeing my plump, swollen figure reflected within. I could only look for a few seconds before I had to tear my gaze away.

Twelve years changed everything, and I lost all my former glory. Now, I was just an old witch, destined to be hated by everyone.