Skylar Bellamy stood along the quiet edge of the lake, the morning sun already warmly kissing her golden skin. The pristine water sparkled brilliantly under a cloudless blue sky, as a gentle lakeside breeze played with the loose, wild strands of her dark hair. She was dressed casually yet effortlessly alluring—a form-fitting black cropped tank top clung tightly to her toned midriff, paired with oversized gray cargo pants resting low and heavy on her hips.

Fresh from her morning yoga flow and a rigorous 10km walk, she felt entirely energized, alive, and a little playful. Pulling out her iPhone, she tilted her head with a small, confident smirk as she caught her reflection in the front camera lens. She ran her fingers smoothly through her hair, pushed her signature dark sunglasses up, and snapped a quick selfie—lips softly puckered, one hand resting easily against her waist.

The shot perfectly captured the bright, natural light washing over her sharp features, the scenic mountain backdrop, and a teasing hint of her flat, sun-warmed stomach. She looked breathtakingly beautiful... though only she knew how much better she looked hidden underneath those baggy layers.