She lied. About the way she felt and the things she did. Assuming the role of a care-free songbird one day. And a glamorous diva the day after. She wore every role on her sleeve and wore it with pride. Even the days she was down and low, her words floated high above in a day bed of happiness. Fake happiness. And just like that, the world thought everything was alright. After all, writers had an unusual occupational hazard, one that she moulded herself to with every passing day. But today was different. She unabashedly wore her smile and felt it too. And the credit went to a layer of egg whites enveloping the succulent pieces of reshmi chicken that melted in her mouth. Life was good. But this role of being herself made it better. Today, she wrote by stepping into her own skin… For a change.