24.
February 24th, 2020
“Nineteen million…” Zaira said for the fourteenth time. Yes, I’ve kept count. “Nineteen. Fucking. Million.”
“Zaira…” I said her name with caution.
She looked at me. “Nineteen million, Gall – that’s how many people liked the selfie. Nineteenmillion!” I didn’t tell her that twenty-five mil likedmine. She’d throw a fit.
Our “making ourselves official” selfies had gone viral, which is why Shane had come banging on my door with a Max-Schreck-rivaling scowl on his face. Paps were circling my penthouse like hungry vultures – ready to snatch at anything they could get their hands on.
Oh, the joy of being an A-list Hollywood star.
I put my tongue to my cheek to hide my grin over Zaira’s astonishment. “Yeah, and that’s a good thing, isn’t it? It just shows thatmillionsof people like you.”
She shook her head. “There are some pretty mean comments in there.” She looked crestfallen. “Someone called me a Hispanic elephant.”
My jaw and fists clenched at that. “What’s their IG handle?” I asked.
“Gallan…” Shane’s voice held warning.
I glared at him. “That person deserves a piece of my mind.”
“I have a social media team working tirelessly on those haters. They are being reported, and the social experts are personally contacting Instagram to take down the negative comments and accounts.”
“But isn’t that wrong?” Zaira said. “These people are only stating their honest opinions, so why report them?” A tear slipped down her left cheek, but she quickly wiped it away.
Shane gave me a look.
I sighed and cupped Zaira’s face. Her eyes were misty; her expression showed sadness.
I didn’t wanna see her so distressed.
It was breaking me.
I placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Those people are bullies, baby,” I told her. “They do these things out of infatuated spite. They don’t mean it; they just wanna hurt you with their baseless words. I know you’re not used to all this, but trust me when I say that Shane knows what he’s doing. You’re nothing what those bullies are calling you. You’re amazing; you’re stunning. You’remine, and I’ll be damned if I let some pathetic bully hurt you or dampen your spirits.”
She sniffed. “Why are people so mean on social media, Gall? Don’t they have a heart? Don’t they have empathy?”
“They just are who they are, babe.” I pushed some of her hair behind her ears. “They think what they’re doing is right. They don’t care about feelings, about another’s emotions. They spread lies and negativity because they think it’s fun. Hurting people brings them joy.”
Zaira cried, and fuck, my heart ached so bad for her.
“Come here.” I pulled her in for a hug, and her body succumbed to mine in an instant.
“97% of the negative comments and accounts are off,” Shane announced. “Once the team is done getting rid of the rest, I want you both to turn off comments for the selfie posts.”
I nodded, just as Shane’s phone pinged with a text.
He looked down, and then sighed in relief. “A 100%. All gone. Do it now.” He gestured at Zaira and I’s phones that were on the kitchen counter.
I turned off the comments on her, and then my post, and then placed our phones inside the cutlery drawer before looking down at her. “Problem solved.”
She wiped her nose with the hoodie’s sleeve and gazed up at me. “But what if they start commenting on my other posts?”
“They can’t. Selective commenting has been activated on your account, and the ones who spoke negatively in the posts have been removed from Instagram altogether. So, unless they wanna get permanently banned or fined for harassment and bullying, I don’t think they’ll create new accounts and try to comment on your posts again.”
She blinked at him. “Thank you, Shane.” She then looked at me in surprise. “Wow…”
