They all wanted new music. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d bartered heartache for record sales.
I might as well get something out of it.
“Let’s make some music,” I said.
1
MAIA
Now
* * *
Iwas having the shit day to end all shit days. Which was really saying something given how recent months had gone for me. I was at the salon getting my hair colored, genuinely considering some wild change of hair style simply to get people to stop recognizing me.
The very idea that some people thought “going viral” was a desirable achievement would baffle me until the end of my days.
I’d always assumed that when a video went viral, it was one big wave, one moment when everyone was watching it and then it passed and people moved on with their lives.
Turns out, it doesn’t work like that.
The initial tidal wave happened suddenly, warping my reality so quickly it was like there had never been a time before I’d been the Proposal Puker. If I ever found out who’d originally uploaded the video with that title, I was going to make them suffer.
People got really intense about it, recognizing me at work, asking me about it in public places. People I hadn’t spoken to since elementary school sent me messages to tell me it had gone viral…like I hadn’t noticed.
But the wave doesn’t just pass like you think it will. Some random account with 37 million followers shares it and sets off a new series of waves. OrSNLparodies it with a controversial actress in the role of Proposal Puker and sets Twitter aflame dissecting conspiracy theories about the original video and the original puker.
Cool. Now I was thinking of myself in third person as the original puker. Add that to the list of shit to discuss with my therapist.
It felt like there wasn’t a person left on the planet who hadn’t seen it and formed some kind of judgment about me. I’d been ridiculed, yelled at, and sexually harassed all over the internet.
Being a woman is super fun.
My stylist waved me back and I wanted to hug her for not saying a goddamn word about the video or any of it as she led me to the chair and talked through what I wanted to do with my hair. That little dose of normalcy was enough to pull me back from the brink.
After I managed to not ask her to shave my head to hide my identity, she said, “I’m gonna run to the back to mix up your color.” She was entirely too cool to actually run anywhere, so in actuality she sauntered to the back of the salon with an easy grace I envied.
I, on the other hand, found myself looking down, shoulders tense, subconsciously waiting for someone to recognize me.
I took a deep breath in, filling my lungs completely, and held it for two long counts. Then, I exhaled slowly, trying to remind myself that not everyone was picturing me puking all the time, that everyone else in this salon was minding their own business and none of them cared that I’d said no to a proposal.
None of them had condemned me as a cheater even though that’s not what I meant when I said there was someone else.
The drive home with Nate echoed in my mind again.
The judgment in his voice as he said, “I…accepted you. And you cheated on me. I should’ve known.”
Accepted me?
“What the fuck does that mean?” I’d asked, wishing I’d let Ophelia drive me home. It had felt like running away, and I wanted to make things right with Nate.
“I think you knowexactlywhat it means…”
Maybe I should’ve been angry, but I felt so guilty for what happened, how I’d given him the wrong idea. “I didn’t cheat, Nate.”
He’d raised a hand like he could raise a divider between us. “It doesn’t matter. We don’t need to talk about it.”
We never needed to talk about anything that made him uncomfortable.
