A week after the shoot, Meg was back at her favorite coffee shop when her phone rang. It was Lacey.
"Meg, you're not going to believe this!" Lacey said, practically screaming with excitement. "The Fresh Threads campaign went viral! Everyone's obsessed with you. They're calling you the 'Relatable Queen of Fashion.'"
"Wait, what?" Meg said, nearly spilling her coffee. "Viral? Like, good viral?"
"Good viral! Brands are already reaching out to book you for more campaigns. You're in demand, girl!"
Meg's head was spinning. Viral? Her? The same Meg Griffin who used to sit alone in the school cafeteria?
"Oh, and one more thing," Lacey added. "You're trending on Instagram. People love your whole 'clumsy-cool' vibe. You've got a fanbase now!"
"A fanbase?" Meg repeated, dumbfounded.
As soon as the call ended, Meg opened her phone and checked Instagram. Sure enough, her photos from the Fresh Threads campaign were everywhere. People were tagging her, commenting things like, "Finally, a model who's real!" and "She's so relatable, I spilled my coffee in solidarity."
Meg stared at the screen in disbelief. For the first time in her life, people weren't laughing at her—they were rooting for her.
With a deep breath, Meg leaned back in her chair. Maybe LA wasn't so bad after all. She wasn't just surviving—she was thriving.
And back in Quahog, the Griffins were already preparing to tell everyone, "We knew Meg was special all along."