A girl’s voice comes out of her phone. “It could be catastrophic. Remember Kylie? She took four weeks off after her mum died, and the algorithm straight up dropped her. Her posts don’t get shown to anyone anymore. She’s lost most of her sponsors, and now she’s struggling for money.”She sighs. “I know it feels awful right now. I get the article must be super scary. But I’m thinking about this long-term, you know? I don’t want your entire career suffering because a bunch of losers who hate women ‘cooing over eyeshadow’ decided to mock you. This WILL blow over. You’re so close to five mil, and I want to see you get this Icons Only collab. You’ve worked so hard. I don’t want to see their bullying actually work, you know?”
Summer pales. “Yeah. Okay. Okay. I’ll keep going.”
I slip off my shoes, and the movement catches her attention. Her eyes immediately widen.
“Lulu, I have to go. Call you later.” She hangs up and stands. “Sorry,” she tells me brightly, gathering her things. “I didn’t mean to get my stuff everywhere. I just needed to take a phone call, the signal in my room is kind of bad, but I’ll get out of your way.” She’s rocking from side to side like she’s nervous.
The realisation settles over my shoulders like a physical weight.
She’s scared of me. I scare her. “Summer, you don’t have to?—”
“It’s fine, I swear!” As she fumbles to collect her stuff, her hand knocks her mug of tea. It topples off the kitchen table and shatters on the floor. “God.I amsosorry, I’m a mess.”
“Step back,” I order. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Hang on, I’ll just clean this up—” She bends to pick up the shards, and I suddenly get a front-row view up her short skirt. I see the soft lines of her thighs. The lace of her blue thong. The flash of pretty pink peeping out from underneath the fabric.
Dear God.
“Summer!” I bark, and she jumps to her feet. I close my eyes, trying to get the image out of my head. “Please, justget back.”
She’s already backing away from me. “Yes,” she says, heading towards the front door. “Of course. I’m so sorry.” She grabs her coat and shoves her feet into her shoes. Before I can tell her that I don’t mean she has to leave the building,she’s gone.
I stare down at the broken ceramic on the floor. I can feel myself swelling in my jeans.
I kneel and start picking up the pieces.
THIRTY-TWO
SUMMER
As I flee into the early evening air, my cheeks burn with shame. Why can’t I keep it together around Alec? As soon as he walks into the room, I turn into a clumsy, babbling mess. I remember how I melted down in front of him last night. I bet he hates me even more now.
I check my phone. It’s six, and a sugary rose-and-peach sunset streaks the sky above. Fraser and Cameron won’t be back for another hour. Tugging my coat tighter around me, I start trudging through the soft grass down the hill.
At least I know someone who’ll be happy to see me.
When I step inside the lambing barn, everything is peaceful. Most of the sheep are asleep, and the only sounds are the occasional bleat and the odd rustle of hay.
The calm atmosphere does nothing to dampen the fear bubbling in my stomach.
After I got back from my swim this morning, I spent the rest of the day compulsively searching my name online. TheChroniclearticle is spreading like wildfire. Everywhere I look, more articles about me are popping up. Lulu says that I’m getting interview requests from news stations. This is just getting bigger and bigger.
I remember Fraser’s concern in the clearing this morning.You can ignore your heart and your body telling you something is wrong, but eventually, you’ll break.
He’s right. I can already feel myself fraying. Maybe it makes me weak, but I just can’t handle this many people hating me. I desperately want to do as he says and log off for a few weeks, but I can’t bear the thought of my career disappearing.
Social media platforms punish creators for not posting regularly. They hide your posts from your audience. A mental health break is kind of counterproductive if it leaves your career in tatters. I haven’t missed a daily post in three years. I haven’t taken a single holiday. I’ve been too scared to lose what I’ve built.
But now I’m also scared to keep going.
I rub my face. I’m just so tired. My whole life, I’ve been a trier. I’ve never really been good at anything, but I try and try and try. When I was in school, I’d stay up late studying every night. I’d see other kids justgettingit, and it would take me at least twice as long to understand. Even when I was working retail, I’d have to take notes or record all of the instructions and study them at home so I could remember them on the spot. But I still tried my hardest.
And now I have this job, I try my heart out for it. It’s just stopped working.
Suddenly, my phone rings in my hand. Everything in me drops when I see the wordMUMflash across the screen.
Shit. She’s finally seen the video.
