These are mostly words he’s not familiar with. “We don’t have a website. Or a digital marketer.”Or a budget. He’d put all his savings on the inn though, if his mom would let him.
It’s impressive that Calvin knows all these terms and ideas—who knew the guitarist of a famous pop rock band was this techy?
“You need to improve your digital presence. You can’t rely on loyal customers, eventually you’re going to have to find new ones,” Calvin says. “And all the new ones have only heard of Camilla Hotel. Did you know they hire a lot of influencers? They give out stays for influencers who have a lot of reach.”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re right.” Miles sighs and scratches the back of his head, frustrated. “How did you know about their deals with influencers?”
“I told you, they’re one of our sponsors.”
“Yeah, I think I see your bandmates post about their stays at Camilla Hotels now and then. Why don’t you post about them?”
“I don’t like social media.”
It’s not a surprise. Miles is well aware of that fact, since he follows him—and all the other members of Cloverlily. They’ve got official accounts that are likely run by a social media manager that postsclips and segments of their music videos and other public appearances. On their personal accounts, Theo is the most active out of all of them. Their bassist and their drummer also post quite regularly. Still—
“You sounded like you knew a lot about social media,” Miles points out.
“Because our management made us take these stupid crash courses about social media when we were starting out. We had to learn about going viral and all that. It bugs them that I hate it.”
Calvin barely posts—and when he does, it’s often as if he’s been threatened to do it, posting photos of stages or the band with vague one-liners. He doesn’t post anything about his personal life, or small updates showing what he’s up to.
“Yeah, you’re awful at it,” he says, nodding. “You post… what, once every three months? I think your last post was a blurry instant noodle cup. What’s that about?”
Calvin stares. “How do you even know that?”
“Because I follow you? I’m a huge fan?” Does Calvin still not believe him?
“It’s unsettling that you’re familiar with my social media habits.”
“I feel like we’ve already established that I’m a huge fan of your band. Why do I get the impression that you’re not aware of how famous you are?”
“I’m not famous.”
It’d be rude to laugh at Calvin’s disconnection with reality, so Miles makes a strong attempt not to. The corner of his mouth twitches under the effort and he lets out a soft wheeze, and Calvinscowls.
“You’re famous,” Miles states. “You have so many followers and you don’t even try.”
“You’ve got eighty thousand followers. You should post about the inn. Say it’s where you get your inspiration from.”
“I do sometimes, but I guess it’s not enough to bring a steady amount of bookings in. Maybe because the inn doesn’t have an online presence like you said? We’re on some booking site, but there’s not much information on there aside from being able to reserve dates. Also, you’re one to talk. You have five hundred thou—” Miles cuts himself off. “How do you know how many followers I have? Oh my god, Gabby’s right. You’re my fan, aren’t you? We’re each other’s fans?”
“…Uh.”
Miles adds, “…Not that I’m complaining.”
“You’re annoying. Goodbye. Thank you for showing me the roof garden.” And, with that, Calvin turns toward the staircase. There’s a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Wait.” Without thinking, he grabs Calvin’s arm. He flinches under Miles’s hold, so he lets go immediately, and Calvin gives him an odd look. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Appreciate what?”
“You know…” He waves around, as if that would explain anything. It doesn’t. “Helping me think of ideas for the inn. It means a lot.”
For a moment, Calvin’s quiet. Then, he says, softly, “Sure.”
