Hello, guys!

This chapter was a bit of an unexpected development in this story, but it made so much sense for it to go that way.

Hope you enjoy the ride.

With love,

White Tigresss.

Chapter 18 - Exposure

LOCAL STUDENT PROJECT PUTS ROSEWOOD TEEN IN THE SPOTLIGHT

Photos of Emily Fields, a former Rosewood High swim star, are gaining unexpected attention this week after a class project at Hollis College went viral on social media.

The images, shared by the Hollis photography class on their official Instagram, show Fields in a series of natural-light portraits taken by several students, including local names such as Alison DiLaurentis and Aria Montgomery. The goal of the project was to explore visual storytelling through emotion and identity.

"We encouraged our students to think about how photography can express resilience, quiet strength, and vulnerability," the course instructor explained. "Emily embodied all of that."

The photos—marked by their intimate composition and subtle confidence—quickly garnered thousands of likes, reposts, and supportive comments across platforms. Within hours, they had made Emily a trending topic in Rosewood and sparked interest from local publications and creative brands.

Many longtime residents will remember both Fields and DiLaurentis from past headlines surrounding the aftermath of DiLaurentis's disappearance and the well-publicized trauma the girls endured in the years that followed. This time, however, the story is one of creative collaboration and unexpected reinvention.

Neither Fields nor the student photographers have issued statements, but a source close to the class described them as "surprised but encouraged" by the public's warm reception.

Emily sat hunched over in their usual booth, hoodie up, sleeves tugged over her hands like armor. She stirred her drink absently, watching the condensation trail down the glass.

When Hanna walked in, she took one look and laughed.

"You know hoodies are for low-key disguises, not full invisibility cloaks, right?"

Emily gave a weak smile. "I'm not in the mood for attention."

"You're sitting under the 'Locals' Favorite Booth' plaque, Em. Bit late for that." Hanna slid into the seat across from her and pulled out her phone. "So. Viral. You. Model vibes. How does it feel to be Rosewood-famous for something other than trauma?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Honestly? I'm kind of…freaked out."

Hanna's teasing expression softened.

"Yeah. I figured."

Emily glanced around like someone might overhear. "I didn't think people would care so much. I thought maybe a few photography nerds would double-tap, and that's it. But now I'm getting DMs from people I haven't talked to since junior year. There's a girl who wants me to promote her lip gloss line."

Hanna raised her brows. "Free lip gloss? You're living the dream."

"I didn't want this," Emily admitted, her voice lower now. "It wasn't supposed to be… this big. I just wanted to try something new. For myself. Now it feels like everyone's looking at me."

"Em. You did something brave. And people saw it. That doesn't make you selfish. It makes you visible in a good way."

"I'm not used to that," she murmured. "Not unless it's on a missing poster or a headline about what we survived."

Hanna leaned back and smiled gently. "Well, maybe it's time they saw the girl who made it out. The strong, hot version. You're like a phoenix in a hoodie."

Emily let out a small, surprised laugh.

Hanna flipped her phone around. "Also, I've decided to become your personal stylist-slash-bodyguard. Think of me as your Yoda with better shoes."

"Oh god," Emily said, grinning now. "You'd make me wear leather to a grocery store."

"First of all, you'd look amazing. Second of all, yes."

Emily sighed, then relaxed a little. "I just… I don't want people to think I'm okay just because I smiled in a few pictures."

"They won't," Hanna said firmly. "And the people who matter already know you're still healing. But we can still celebrate the fact that you showed up. Panic and all."

Emily looked down at her drink, then back up. "Thanks, Han."

"Anytime. And don't think I'm not serious about the stylist thing."

Emily smirked, "You just want an excuse to make me wear heels."

"Guilty," Hanna said, and they both laughed.

As Emily leaned back into the booth, hoodie still up but eyes a little brighter, the noise of the Grill seemed just a little easier to tune out.

The classroom buzzed lightly with conversation as students adjusted lenses and reviewed settings for their next exercise — a natural light portrait series. Aria leaned over toward Alison, phone in hand, grinning.

"Did you see the comments on the class Instagram? People are obsessed with Emily."

Alison gave a soft smile, trying not to look too affected. "Yeah. She's handling it well, though. I'm proud of her."

Clark, sitting across from them, nodded. "You should be. Those photos turned out amazing."

Alison glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "I don't know. I just... clicked the shutter."

Aria gave her a look. "Ali. You captured something real. That's not luck."

Alison shrugged, focusing instead on cleaning her lens. "Emily was the brave one. I just showed up."

Clark exchanged a glance with Aria but said nothing. It was Aria who nudged Alison's arm gently. "It's okay to want something for yourself too, you know."

Before Alison could reply, their teacher walked in, clapping his hands together.

"Alright, folks — real quick before we get started. This semester's big opportunity has officially landed. We're selecting three students to represent our program at the Global Youth Photo Exchange — a year-long immersive in Italy, sponsored by the ECP. We'll be evaluating both technical skill and storytelling. Think: work ethic, creativity, and voice."

A hush of excitement fell over the room. Clark looked like he was ready to pack his bags already. Aria raised her brows, visibly intrigued.

Alison stayed quiet. She nodded politely, but her eyes dropped to the camera in her lap.

Aria noticed. "You okay?"

Alison smiled faintly. "Yeah. I'm just… focused on making sure Emily's okay with all this attention. That's more important."

But even as she said it, she glanced down at the viewfinder — at the frozen frame still saved from Emily's shoot — and for a second, a flicker of longing passed through her.

She didn't let it stay.

Amidst everything they were going through, Emily and Alison still made it a point to go on their second date together. It was something simple and sweet: just getting ice cream. The early spring evening air was warm enough to make it feel like a treat.

Alison chuckled to herself once she spotted Emily approaching the shop in a slightly too-small hoodie, a baseball cap, and sunglasses that covered half her face. "Wow, look at you, already dressing like a supermodel in disguise."

Emily rolled her eyes behind the glasses. "Please, this is the only way I can walk around Rosewood these days."

"That's not entirely true," Alison said, quirking an eyebrow. "You had lunch with Hanna at The Grille, remember?"

"And someone still recognized me later at the corner store while I was with my mom," Emily muttered, tugging her hoodie lower.

Alison laughed. "Fair enough. So, is this incognito supermodel still free for ice cream?"

"Please. It's not like you're not famous yourself, Ms. I Came Back From the Dead," Emily shot back, blushing slightly. "And the answer is yes. I'm always free for you."

Alison smiled softly and reached out to link their fingers together. There was a time when she'd taken Emily's love for granted, assuming it would always be there. After everything they'd gone through to rebuild, she'd never do that again.

They found a quiet bench outside after grabbing their cones—chocolate for Alison, mint chip for Emily.

"You're in your head again," Emily noted, watching Alison from beneath her cap.

"I am," Alison admitted, taking a deep breath. "I was just thinking… there used to be a time I would've ruined this. I took these little moments for granted."

Emily gently rubbed her thumb against the back of Alison's hand. "Why are you getting so sentimental over ice cream?"

Alison laughed and shook her head. "If I'm not careful, I might suggest we elope to Paris."

Emily chuckled. "See, now that's the Ali I remember. All drama and no plan."

"Hey," Alison said in mock offense, nudging her with her shoulder. "I have plans now. They're just quieter."

"And honestly? I like you in all your phases," Emily replied. "But this one? The calm one, the thoughtful one? That's the you I want a future with."

Alison was quiet for a moment, her heart swelling. Then she asked, "How are you doing with all the viral fame stuff, really?"

Emily took a slow lick of her cone and glanced at the street. "I don't know. It's strange. Half the time I feel flattered. The other half… I feel like everyone's watching and waiting for me to screw up."

Alison nodded, letting her speak.

"I used to be good at staying invisible when I wanted to be. Now it feels like I'm on a stage I never auditioned for."

Before Alison could answer, she shifted in her seat—and a folded flyer fluttered out of her bag.

Emily blinked and bent down to pick it up. "The Global Youth Photo Exchange?" she read aloud. "Rome?"

Alison stiffened slightly. "Oh… yeah. It was handed out in class. I forgot it was even there."

"They're sending three winners to Rome for an international photography residency. Ali, this is huge." Emily turned to her, holding up the paper. "You're so good. You have to apply."

Alison hesitated. "It's competitive. I mean… photography was supposed to be just a hobby."

Emily narrowed her eyes. "Come on. You don't talk about it like it's just a hobby."

Alison shifted again. "It's also… a big time commitment. I don't know if it's the right moment."

Emily's expression softened. "Is this because of me?"

Alison didn't answer right away, which said everything.

"I'm not a reason to hold yourself back," Emily said gently.

"I just want to be around if you need me," Alison admitted. "All of this—the photos, the attention—it's a lot. And I don't want to add to it."

Emily opened her mouth to reassure her, but she froze.

She looked down at the flyer again. At the logo. At the bold headline that reminded her just how many people were out there, seeing her face.

Her pulse picked up. Her hands tightened around the flyer. The noise of the street felt too loud. Her throat went dry.

"Emily?" Alison's voice snapped her out of it. "Hey, are you—?"

"I'm fine," Emily lied, but she wasn't. Her hands were starting to tremble, and the air didn't seem to want to stay in her lungs.

Alison was already sliding closer. "No, you're not. Okay, just breathe with me. In… and out."

Emily tried, but her breath hitched. "I thought I was doing better," she whispered, tears forming. "I thought I could handle this."

"You are doing better," Alison said softly, her voice steady. "You're just overwhelmed right now. It doesn't mean you're not healing."

Emily leaned into her shoulder, trying to slow her heartbeat. Alison's hand rubbed gently over her back, grounding her.

After a minute or two, Emily spoke again. "I think I need help with this. Like… real help. Not just breathing exercises or distraction."

"I know," Alison said. "And I know you've been seeing your therapist. But maybe this is something to talk about more. Fame—even local fame—hits weird. Especially when it wasn't something you asked for."

Emily gave a tiny nod. "I just want to understand it. I want to understand me again."

Alison kissed her temple. "Then we'll figure it out together. Step by step."

The space hadn't changed much since Emily started therapy after the dollhouse. The bookshelves were still neatly arranged, the window still let in soft light, and the room still smelled faintly of peppermint tea and cedar. It was safe here—grounding, even—but today, Emily's chest still felt tight.

She sat between her parents on one side of the couch, Alison in the chair just beside her. Dr. Griffin sat across from them, notepad on her lap but never intrusive.

"So," Dr. Griffin began gently, "how are we feeling about everything that's happened since the photos went viral?"

Emily took a breath. "It's… a lot. I've been trying to stay grounded, but I feel like I'm spinning. I mean, I didn't plan this. And now I can't even walk into a store without someone recognizing me."

"She's been having panic attacks again," Pam said softly, her fingers knotted together. "Not as often, but still."

Emily nodded. "They come and go. I've been using the breathing techniques, and I haven't missed a session with you. I just—" she looked over at Alison "—I thought I had more time before being seen again."

Wayne leaned forward. "We've always supported her, but this kind of attention? It's different. Especially for someone still healing."

"I know it's not ideal," Alison said quietly. "And I know I played a part in this. I was one of the photographers. I should've seen it coming."

Dr. Griffin offered a small shake of her head. "Alison, I understand why you'd feel that way, but Emily made the choice to go through with the shoot. And no one could have predicted the response."

"I liked the photos," Emily admitted, surprising even herself. "I didn't expect to—but when I saw them, I felt… strong. Pretty, even. And then everything went viral, and I stopped feeling like a person again."

That admission hit the room with a hush.

Pam reached over to touch her daughter's hand. "Sweetheart, you are still a person. You're our person."

Wayne added, "And we trust you to figure out what you want next. We just want you to be okay."

"There's no one path forward," Dr. Griffin said. "This level of exposure comes with risks—especially for someone who's experienced the kind of trauma you have, Emily. But it also presents an opportunity."

Emily looked up.

"This is a moment where you can reclaim the narrative of your life. Fame isn't the answer, but agency might be. You can step away if you want, and that will be okay. Or you can use this moment to show the world who you really are. Either choice is valid. But the power belongs to you."

Alison nodded softly. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you. Even if that means hiding out in the woods for the next decade."

Emily smiled faintly. "I might take you up on that."

"But until then," Dr. Griffin added, "maybe we focus not on what the world expects of you, but on what you expect of yourself. With support. With honesty."

Emily exhaled slowly. "Okay. That sounds like something I can do."

The late afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of trees above, casting golden stripes across the walking path. Emily slowed her pace just a little to match Toby's as they strolled through Rosewood's Eastwood Trail, a place they'd once escaped to during senior year when everything felt like too much.

Toby had reached out a couple of days ago. Said he wanted to check in, maybe catch up. Emily hadn't realized how much she'd missed this—his calm energy, his quiet way of listening. Toby wasn't flashy, but he had a way of looking at people and really seeing them.

"I haven't been out here in forever," she said, nudging a leaf with her sneaker. "Feels like a different lifetime."

Toby smiled, "Some things change. Some don't. I swear that tree over there still has our initials carved somewhere."

Emily laughed, but it tapered quickly. "Thanks for meeting me."

"Of course," he said. "I figured you might want a minute to just… breathe."

"I do. It's been a lot." She hesitated. "Going viral. People looking at me like I'm this confident, camera-ready version of myself… it's weird. Kind of like watching someone else live my life."

Toby nodded, thoughtful. "It's strange when attention finds you. Especially when you didn't ask for it."

"I liked the shoot," Emily admitted. "The moment I got through it, I actually felt proud. But now there are people recognizing me, and I keep wondering if I'm handling it all wrong."

"You're not," he said. "You're just still figuring out what it means."

Emily exhaled. "Alison said she's not sure she wants to apply for this big photo contest. She's afraid of leaving me alone with… all this. I didn't ask her to stay, but she wants to be here in case I have a breakdown again."

"And you're afraid she's giving up something for you."

Emily nodded. "What if I hold her back?"

Toby was quiet for a beat. Then, "You know, Spencer has these huge plans. I mean, no one's surprised—she's Spencer. But me? I'm not chasing anything huge. I'm happier when I'm building things with my hands, doing something that feels real. I told her I'd be totally fine being the guy at home. Maybe even the one doing school drop-offs someday."

Emily blinked at him. "You'd do that?"

"Sure. Doesn't make me any less. And it doesn't make her more. It just works for us. We each get to show up the way we want to."

Emily stopped walking, hands tucked into the sleeves of her hoodie. "I think I need to figure out how I want to show up. Not just for her—for me too."

"That's the whole thing," Toby said, turning to face her. "It's not about getting all the answers now. It's about not being afraid to ask the questions."

Emily gave a small smile, then tilted her head to the sky where the light danced between the leaves.

"Thanks, Toby."

"Anytime," he said. "Come on. I'll buy you a lemonade. You look like someone who needs sugar and shade."

She laughed, the tightness in her chest easing just a little as they continued down the path.

Emily stood nervous at Ali's doorstep, replaying everything she would say in her attempt to talk things through. She wasn't afraid that Alison would ignore or belittle her suggestions, but the thought of the blonde resisting the idea of applying for the contest did leave her uneasy.

She knocked on the door and Alison promptly answered, gasping when she saw Emily standing there.

"Em, what are you doing here?!" Alison asked her. "Why didn't you call me? It's freezing outside!"

"Ali, it's okay. I just needed to talk to you and it couldn't wait."

Alison swallowed hard, visibly nervous, "Okay, let's go upstairs to my room. I think Jason is still around."

Emily nodded and followed Alison up the stairs. Once they were in her room, Alison closed the door so they could have some privacy.

"You can talk," Alison said, crossing her arms in front of her chest like she was preparing for the worst.

"Alison, I thought about everything and I decided that I want to follow Dr. Griffin's idea," Emily said. "I want to put myself out there and tell my own stories."

Alison gasped in surprise, "Are you sure of it?"

"Yes, I am," Emily nodded defiantly.

"That's good, Em. Is there anything I can do to support you?"

"Actually, there is. You're an amazing photographer and an amazing writer. I'm gonna need your help with that, at least in the beginning."

Alison reached out and held her hand, "I'll help you, of course. And I'll be there for you if it gets overwhelming."

Emily smiled softly, melting at Ali's words. The blonde really had a way of making her feel bubbly inside—so much that she almost forgot what she was going to say.

"Thank you, but I also have one condition for that."

Alison frowned, "A condition."

Emily took a deep breath and went on, "Ali, I want you to take part in the contest, if that's what you really want, I mean. I don't want you to hold yourself back because of me."

"Emily, I already told you, you're my priority right now—"

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want this," Emily challenged, staring deeply at Ali's blue eyes. Alison held her gaze and even tried to say something, but failed to do so. Emily took that as a sign she had won. "That is, unless you're afraid you won't get in."

"Oh, please, you and I both know I will get in if I take part in the contest," the answer came brutally honest, almost like old Ali, but it was what Emily was hoping for. She smirked and Alison gasped, realizing she had fallen straight into Emily's trap.

"That's why you need to try at least," Emily gently pushed.

"Em, you're—"

"Ali, I need you to trust me," Emily cut her in gently. "I know I'm still recovering. I know I'll probably have more anxiety and panic attacks and I know that it will be harder without you. But I also know that I will never forgive myself if I let you miss this chance."

Alison bit her lip, trembling like she was trying so hard not to cry. "I hate the idea of leaving you. When I did, it almost destroyed us. It almost destroyed you. I don't want you to ever go through something like that again."

Emily stepped forward, pressing Ali's forehead to hers. "It won't be like before. This time, we're making a decision based on what we think it's best for us. We're doing it together, not because someone is forcing you to leave."

Alison shook her head, finally allowing her tears to flow, "I definitely don't deserve you."

She wrapped Emily in a hug, burying her head in her chest.

Lost in her emotions, Emily confessed, "Ali, I love you. It might not be the best time to say it—"

This time, Alison cut her short, "I love you too."

Then, Alison pulled her in for a kiss, fiery and intense. Emily felt that Alison was pouring her soul into the kiss as if she were about to leave or as if she was already missing her that much. Emily matched that intensity, fingers tangled into Ali's hair as their tongues danced together.

Alison eventually guided Emily to her bed and climbed on top of her, breaking their kiss to stare deep into her eyes.

"Are you sure?" Alison asked.

"Yes," Emily had never been so sure of anything else in her life.

Alison smiled and traced Emily's jawline with kisses, "We can still stop whenever you want."

Emily nodded softly. "I know."

Emily trusted Alison and their connection. Perhaps it might have been a little too early for that, but the pull and the need to love and be loved was too strong to ignore. And Emily loved it because it felt like heaven to fall apart in Ali's arms, knowing she was there to ground her.

When they fell asleep, Alison was still clinging to her.