Open to: your muse can be a fan, someone else in line, an employee. Anyone really.
Dread filled Noah’s stomach as his eyes darted across his phone screen for the third time. ‘Someone needs to tell Noah to lay off the burgers.’ ‘Wtf happened to Noah’s personal trainer?’ ‘Whoa thought you lost your baby fat before now?’ It was tweet after tweet, some occompanied by pictures. Staring at himself, Noah’s saw exactly what they were talking about. He had gained weight. Quite a bit. He was on a strict diet and exercise routine after coming clean about his eating disorder to a doctor. Of course the public had no idea. Management was keeping it quiet.
Glancing up, he realized the like in the coffee shop was moving and he was next. “H-hey.” He forced a grin, palms sweaty. “Uh, just a coffee for me. Black. No sugar.” It was lunch time and his stomach had been growling moments ago. Now he felt ill.