The downsides of finding out you're a socialite

Since regaining her memories of her other life, Mia had been having a little trouble. She put on a brave face, acted like it was nothing, but having the memories of two distinct lifetimes in her head did get confusing. It didn't help that a few details could blur together. Events that were similar could be confused, and dreams or nightmares that she had in her other life might make something in this life seem less real.

It was worse for things she would never have done. Like JJ, it was taking her a bit of time to get used to that, though at least there she could start seeing what she saw him him.

Pronouns were confusing. The part of her that was the other Mia, the scrappy vigilante Mia, could appreciate this JJ, just as much as the part of her that was the current Mia, even if she'd never have considered anything with her version of JJ. It was something.

Her more socialite lifestyle on the other hand left a lot to be desired. Both versions of her were fiercely loyal on the rare occasions they made friends, defaulting to defending, but so much of this life just didn't quite click with her any more. She could wonder what she'd ever seen in it.

Sometimes she wasn't sure if she was a socialite with memories of being a vigilante, or a vigilante with memories of being a socialite. She kept switching around on which felt more like her.

And then there were the memories. She could recall fighting William when first they'd met, in the other life; she'd thought it some nightmare until Dinah had confirmed it for her. Equally it took checking out some old photos to remind herself that some of her friends were actually real and not exaggerated stereotypes of living the high life.

She skimmed through online photo albums, feet up and sitting in the corner of Dinah's apartment. Somehow this place had better wi-fi than her place, and she was a millionaire. She put it down to Canary vigilante stuff.

There was her with Mayor Ramirez at some commemoration, there was her visiting National City, there was her in New Gotham with the Kanes, there was National City again... Mia jerked upright suddenly, going from lazy clicking to squinting at the picture.

That had been a dream, surely? She knew Supergirl, the DEO, all of that, sure, but that was Catco. Cat Grant had again taken the reins, teaching her chosen successor hands-on, Keira-something, and the magazine was well-known for its photoshoots and accompanying interviews. It hadn't entirely lost the clickbait of the Andrea Rojas days.

Mia clicked out of the album, and opened a browser, nervously typing in 'Mia Queen Catco.'

Her visiting the magazine felt right. She was, not to flatter herself, something of a well-known figure. Daughter of Green Arrow, world-saver and hero, and social butterfly with connections to all kinds of important people.

She did remember having an interview there. It had been for an anniversary of her father's , catching up with her, seeing what she had to say, the usual. Then there was... something she'd put down to be just a bad dream, probably inspired by some of the other Catco stuff she'd read.

The search loaded. Hand shaking slightly, Mia clicked the first gallery, and squealed, nearly falling out of her chair.

She looked beautiful. Mia didn't think it was vain to think that, Catco did have an eye for quality after all. Her hair had been done by professionals, falling in neat yet natural-looking blonde waves just past her shoulders, and her make-up was simply exquisite, glittering eyelashes and eyeliner that made her eyes look all the greener, natural looking lipstick that perfected the shape of her lips...

There was just the minor issue of Catco being known for its nudes. It had taken off after that old Luthor feature, having the interviewee bear both their body and soul. Not everyone going in did it, but it was one of the things the magazine was known for, very revealing (if tasteful, for a given value of tasteful) shots to break down the taboo of nudity, side by side with award-winning journalism.

And apparently she was one of them. Mia stared at the gallery, feeling herself flush.

She'd thought that was a dream. she knew she'd done the interview, but there was no way she'd have agreed to pose like... like that, she'd thought that was just a dream brought on by hearing about those other women, and maybe rereading that Kane sibling interview a few times (she was only human).

But no, there it was in full color. Mia Queen, made up like she was going to a party, elegance and glamor and utterly naked.

The first picture gave her a vain hope that it wasn't as bad as she remembered. It was just of her top half, head gently leaning sideways so it was supported by her left hand on her cheek, while her right arm reached in front of her breasts to support her left elbow, leaving her staring out of the screen with her head tilted, a simple enough pose that thankfully left her technically decent. With not much below her navel in view, there was just her cleavage to worry about, and what might have been a hint of the bottom curve of her breasts if she stared too hard.

Which wasn't so bad, she knew some of the dresses she'd worn lately showed about as much. Still, at least those dresses left her wearing more than a necklace.

Mia had always considered herself slightly shameless. It was something of a badge of pride. Before, though, that had been about defiance, , beating people up in cage fights and not caring what they thought of her. It was part of being a vigilante.

Apparently, for the socialite part of her, that shamelessness translated to... shamelessness. Not caring what people thought of her for rather different reasons to being brusque.

She was a vigilante now though. That Mia, whichever one it was, was her. She wasn't sure she still had the right kind of free spirit to want to have everything out like... that.

She clicked to the next image, then immediately regretted it.

The Mia in the photo was lying on her back, the shot taken from the side. She was on some kind of wooden table, though she doubted anyone would be looking at the table, her back arching up and her hair cascading down, with her breasts now entirely exposed, one pink and pointed nipple on the side nearest the camera. All that kept her core from view was a slightly raised thigh, though every other part of her naked body was there.

Mia bit her lip. This... this really was real.

Next was... Mia whimpered.

She'd forgotten about that one. She had on a dark grey domino mask, her hair pulled back, as well as a green hood separate from any other garment. Her face was still recognizable, all of it still visible from inside.

She was standing in a field somewhere, another side view, with a quiver on her back and a bow in her hand, her nocking an arrow. She stood tall, as if aiming at somethin in the distance, though her head was turned to look to the side, meeting the camera. The shot was taken from a little way behind her, meaning that her posture, one foot a step in front of the other, showed off little more than her ass. The quiver stopped at her lower back, keeping each toned cheek entirely unobstructed.

She'd worried about whether her dad would be proud of her. Somehow she felt as though he might have a few things to say about that.

Despite herself, Mia found herself clicking through to the next, not wanting to see more of her exposure, but it was like watching a slow moving car crash. She couldn't look away.

She remembered the next one. She bit her lip again, staring; it had taken several attempts to get right, to the point they'd almost given up. When finally it had worked, though, it had been good enough to be the front cover, albeit with some cropping and strategically placed text to keep it suitable for store shelves.

This shot was taken in front of her. She now had nothing in, no mask, no necklace, and was climbing a salmon ladder. Both arms were raised over her head, holding onto an iron bar, showing off the toned physique she'd picked up even in this lifetime. She looked at a spot a little over the camera, both looking up at her climbing while showing her face to the viewers, supporting her whole weight on just her arms. Bare feet dangled a meter or so above the ground, both breasts were unobstructed, and even her private core could be seen in far too much detail, thanks to the astonishing resolution circa-2040 images were capable of.

As if to convince herself it couldn't be that bad, Mia clicked on the middle of the image to zoom in, only to find out yes, it was that bad.

That was her slit, the lips distinct even after zooming in, and above that a closely-shaved blonde arrowhead (she had everything done professionally) had each follicle easily visible. While mostly she was bare, she remembered, she hadn't been able to resist a little decoration, it wasn't much in length, less than a centimeter for the ones that were there, but she'd found it amusing.

And there it was, the blonde arrow for all the world to see, as well as what it was pointing at.

"Mia, you there?"

Mia yelped, fumbling and failing to close the site before Laurel walked in. She turned, suddenly blushing bright red. Laurel lifted her eyebrows.

""Not the first time I've walked in on something like this," Laurel said. She paused. "Wait, isn't that your... Well, you do you I guess."

"No! It's not, it's not like that," Mia yelped, blushing furiously.

"I'm not judging," Laurel said. "Trust me. Grew up with Sara. Don't know how mine compares to yours, but I've walked in on both in way, way too many awkward moments. This is tame."

"It's not!" Mia yelped again. "I was just... my memories can be a little fuzzy. I didn't think... that was real."

There was a moment's pause. Laurel took a step closer, expression softening. Mia almost relaxed before remembering a zoomed-in detailed photo of her vagina was filling the screen.

Panicking, she clicked a button at random to get rid of it.

Unfortunately it just displayed the next image. Mia's top half again, and with another mask, though this one was black. She also technically had on more clothes; a black leather jacket, not unlike the Canary's, though not closed enough to hide her breasts. Her hands were on the lapels as if straightening it, though it kept a visible strip of flesh down the middle of her body entirely in view.

Mia reddened even more. Worryingly, Laurel barely reacted.

"You forgot about that photoshoot? You must be the only person on the planet who did," Laurel said.

"Not helping!" Mia said. She really didn't need to be reminded of how many people had seen her... like that. She whimpered.

She remembered. That was the worst part, she did remember going through it, having the make-up artists touch up every inch of her, the hairstylists take care of every detail above and below, making her look the best she ever would. She remembered when she'd been shameless in the right way to go through with it.

It just felt like someone else's life. Her body, but someone else's decision to bare it so brazenly, and bare it to a world where, if the tabloids were anything to go by, a lot of people really, really wanted to see it.

She remembered a lot of things, like the record-breaking number of sales, which was even more of a feat with how poorly print media did and how many of the pictures were online. Like these.

Mia swallowed. That was... five photos. The gallery listed a number in the corner that made her heart sink and cheeks red. It was in the triple digits.