“By giving them tactics?”
“Apparently,lying with purposeis feminist now.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Right? But if I don’t contribute, he’s gonna make me write an opinion piece on why men who play video games are undateable.”
I frown. “That’s an actual article?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s called ‘Red Flag or Red Dead Redemption?’”
I wheeze. “You need to quit.”
“I know!” Elena whisper-yells, then quickly clears her throat. “Geoff, I’m coming! Bella, I gotta go before he makes me write about joystick dysfunction.”
“Wait—”
Click.
She’s gone.
I stare at my phone, stunned, and for a brief second, I almost forget my entire life is on fire.
But reality snaps back fast.
I sit there, clutching my phone, staring at the contract, heart hammering.
I have two choices.
Ignore this. Find another way.
Go to Konstantin and demand answers.
I don’t have time for option one.
I text him again.
Me:We need to talk.
I toss my phone onto the couch and immediately regret it. What if he texts back? What if he calls? What if I just made a terrible mistake and should’ve worded that better?
No. Nope.
I need to do something. Anything.
I glance around my disaster of a living room, and suddenly, I can’t stand it. The mess. The clutter. The suffocating feeling that my life is one gust of wind away from complete collapse.
So I grab the vacuum.
The moment I press the power button, the familiar whooshing roar drowns out my thoughts, and for a glorious thirty seconds, I almost feel in control.
