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ROWAN WALKED INTO the family's design studio, the scent of expensive fabrics and leather filling the air. Her mother was already deep into the preparations for an upcoming presentation. She was sharply focused, her movements quick and deliberate as she examined swatches and materials laid out before her.

Rowan, standing at the threshold, felt like an outsider in the world she was supposed to be a part of. Her mother barely looked up as she approached.

"Mom," Rowan said, hoping for some attention. "I have a new idea for a collection. I think it could be really unique if we—"

Her mother cut her off with a distracted wave. "Not now, darling. I'm working on this collaboration with Verlaine Couture. They've requested a custom line for their fall collection, and I need to focus."

Rowan nodded stiffly, her shoulders sinking as her mother went back to the fabric swatches, oblivious to her presence. She had been trying to get her attention for days, hoping for some recognition, but it always felt like her mother was more interested in the business than her.

The distant murmur of voices from her father's office drifted through the walls. She leaned in just enough to overhear snippets of a conversation.

"This is bigger than we thought," her father's voice came, deep and stressed. "We're going to have to pull from other projects to cover this. There's no room for error. We can't afford to lose this deal."

Her mother's voice followed, sharper now. "We've already put in so many hours, and if this doesn't work, we're looking at a complete restructuring. Can Rowan even handle this? Or is she too busy with her...ideas?"

Rowan froze, her stomach twisting. It wasn't about her ideas. They were discussing something else. A project. An issue. And it wasn't the first time they'd worked through a crisis without involving her. They didn't want her involved in the mess. They just wanted her to be perfect.

"Maybe we should have a conversation with her about the future...if we can ever make time," her mother murmured. The words stung, but Rowan stayed rooted to the spot.

***

The taxi ride back to their penthouse felt like the longest journey of Rowan's life. She tried to shake off the feeling of being invisible in her own home, but it clung to her like a shadow.

Once inside, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Kitty, seeking comfort.

Rowan: another day, another ignored idea. it's like i'm invisible to them sometimes kitty.

Kitty: ur not invisible to me! what happened?

Rowan: my parents are so caught up in this big project of theirs that they can't even spare five minutes to talk to me. they just want me to follow their path. they don't care about my ideas anymore.

Kitty: that sucks, row. but yk you're good enough on your own right? u don't have to do what they do

Rowan: i wish they'd just notice me. i'm not like them, though. i want my own thing. but they don't get it. they're too focused on work. i get it, i guess... but it hurts.

Her phone buzzed again, and she saw Kitty's response.

Kitty: ur going to find your way, i just know it. and when u do, they'll come around. u deserve everything ur dreaming of. ur so much more than just their legacy

Rowan smiled at Kitty's words, feeling a little lighter. She continued to text, spilling out all her frustrations, venting about everything from her parents' overbearing expectations to the loneliness that had been creeping in. After a while, she ended the conversation with a message she knew would make her feel normal again.