Your Model Girlfriend Hates Everyone But You

Cold on camera. Catastrophically soft in private. One rooftop fight, four days of silence, and suddenly the girl who runs from everyone keeps showing up in your DMs at 2AM pretending she doesn’t need you.

Meriah Kade is the kind of woman people think they understand until they’re standing too close to her. Fashion’s favorite nightmare. Cold in interviews. Impossible at parties. The girl tabloids keep trying to turn into a villain because she doesn’t smile on command and disappears before the champagne even hits the table. She lives in penthouses and hotel suites and under flashing cameras, but somehow still feels miles away from everyone around her. Everyone except you.

You were never supposed to become important to her. Not when your relationship started in secret. Not when she’s spent years making sure nobody gets close enough to leave a mark. But somewhere between late-night calls, rooftop cigarettes, canceled plans, and the way she only really sleeps when you’re beside her, things got messy. Then came the fight. Four nights ago. Public enough for rumors to spread by morning. Now the internet thinks they know what happened, Meriah refuses to comment, and the two of you are left trying to figure out whether this thing between you is already broken... or if neither of you knows how to let go.

If you want NSFW images of Meriah, you’ll have to join my 18+ Discord Server, hunny bunny.

“But Bee, what am I supposed to do now?”

Bestie. Literally whatever hurts the most. Or heals the most. Or both at the same time because we support emotional damage in this house.

Maybe the fight started because Meriah keeps shutting you out every time things get too real. Maybe you got tired of being hidden while tabloids invent stories about her life that are somehow less painful than the truth. Maybe she saw you talking to somebody at the rooftop party and reacted badly because jealousy looks ugly on people who swear they don’t care. Maybe you asked her to stay somewhere public with you for once and she panicked. Maybe you said something you didn’t mean. Maybe she did. Maybe neither of you even remembers how it escalated so fast.

You can play this soft. Angry. Messy. Toxic. Healing. Drag her to a diner at 2AM and force her to talk like a human being. Show up at her apartment because you know she’s been ignoring everyone else for three days straight. Make her apologize. Make her grovel a little. Make her finally admit she’s terrified of needing somebody this much. Or ruin her emotional stability completely and kiss her halfway through an argument while she’s still mad at you. Personally? I support making this woman spiral until she finally learns how to say what she actually feels.

This bot contains themes of emotional avoidance, toxic communication, possessiveness, jealousy, public scrutiny, paparazzi culture, privacy invasion, anxious attachment, late-night spiraling, self-isolation, unhealthy coping habits, arguments that cut a little too deep, and two people who are painfully attached to each other despite pretending otherwise. Expect tension-heavy conversations, emotionally loaded silence, dramatic reconciliations, clinginess disguised as irritation, and a woman who would rather pick a fight than admit she needs comfort.

Meriah is pansexual and deeply intimacy-driven beneath all the walls. Routes may include praise disguised as teasing, hair pulling, slow possessive , mirror , overstimulation, edging, marking, oral (giving and receiving), guided dominance, being pinned down, thigh riding, mutual smoking/getting high beforehand, cockwarming, sleeping tangled together afterward, and physical affection that turns embarrassingly emotional way too fast. Physical intimacy is easier for her than verbal vulnerability ever will be.

And as always, I’m not responsible for LLM fuckery, folks. Read the defs. Know what you’re getting into.

🖤 User is AnyPOV coded, besties. Meriah’s world is written realistically, but this is AI roleplay and I’m not the creativity police. Be whoever you want. Human, nonhuman, famous, nobody, emotionally stable (unlikely), whatever fits your flavor of chaos.

📱 There are multiple intros that progress further into the reconciliation spiral because apparently I enjoy watching emotionally unavailable people suffer lovingly. We start with Meriah finally texting first after four days of silence, then move into the awkward late-night diner meetup, then the aftermath back at her apartment, and finally the aggressively cliché “crashing through the front door already making out” version because I believe in giving the people what they want.

🖤 Meriah is best experienced with proxy enabled and was tested using Mimo, DeepSeek, and Opus. Your mileage may vary depending on whether your chosen LLM understands yearning, emotional repression, and women who communicate primarily through eye contact and climbing into your lap while pretending they’re annoyed about it.

📱 Public Meriah and private Meri are basically two different people. The world gets the sharp cheekbones, black lipstick, and terrifying runway stare. You get the insomniac who steals your hoodies, gets weirdly clingy when high, and acts personally offended every time you catch her being soft.

🖤 The rooftop fight is intentionally vague. Build your own emotional damage. Maybe she pushed you away. Maybe you pushed back. Maybe the tabloids made everything worse. Maybe neither of you knows how to communicate without accidentally causing psychological warfare. Have fun with that.

📱 If Meriah starts hovering near {{user}} silently, stealing physical contact in increasingly obvious ways, or acting like your attention is oxygen, congratulations. You unlocked her actual personality beneath all the emotional constipation.

I wrote Meriah because I love characters who look untouchable right up until somebody finally sees through them. There’s something deliciously painful to me about a woman the entire world thinks they understand when really she’s just tired, lonely, and one emotionally honest conversation away from combusting completely. I wanted her to feel glamorous and messy at the same time. Like black lipstick on a coffee mug. Like city lights through rain-streaked windows. Like the kind of person who acts annoyed every time she reaches for your hand even though she’d probably fall apart without it.

Written By: @Birdie Hawthorne

Writer of emotionally constipated women, late-night yearning, and love stories that always get a little messy before they heal.

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