THE FORTIFICATION OF FLORA FISHER/ #ONC2024

Chapter 1 - Piece of Cake

"Go, Flor!" my sister says. "If you don't, I'll be forced to give the trip to Darcie, and we both know she won't appreciate it."

Lucy shifts on the hospital bed and tugs at the heinous blue gown that partially covers her shoulder. She's right. Darcie would find something to complain about, even while being served a pineapple smoothie in batik-curtained overwater bungalow in Bora Bora. Because Darcie, my sister's best friend of fifteen years, complains about virtually everything.

"But, I can't just up and, you know, disappear for two weeks!" I say this because it is what a responsible person would say. Responsible people have commitments and engagements and a purpose and structure to their days. They can't just haul up and go off on a whim to a white sand beach and sip fruity drinks in their hibiscus-print bikini. Can they?

"Don't be an idiot, Flora," Lucy says in classic older sister tone. "There's WiFi there and ridiculously beautiful photo ops. You can work from your beach hut. I mean, think about it. It would be great for your brand. Get you back in the game, you know? Picture this: you, a popular TikTok manifestation coach, suddenly posts a lot a video of yourself lounging on a catamaran at an exclusive tropical paradise. It'll be good for your biz."

"There are catamarans?" I ask, wide-eyed. I've never been on a catamaran before. But then, I've never been or done a lot of things "Floribundance," my online persona, has done.

"I don't know," Lucy says. "Probably. There was a picture of one on their website."

"Well, you make a pretty good argument." I say, and she's right; "Florabundance" could use a bit of a kick in her not-so-abundant butt. "But I'm not going to waltz off and leave you appendix-less at home with Sawyer and Molly creating chaos around you. I can help, Luce. I can play nanny for a week or so."

"No way," my sister says. "I'll be fine. And anyway, Bennett is off work for the entire month. I'll get him to do everything."

I smile, because she will, and Bennett will step up like a boss. He adores my sister and my niece and nephew. He'd walk through fire for them and then back again. I'm so happy for Luce, but it makes me wonder what that would feel like, having someone who cared about you that much? I try to push all thoughts of Matt out of my head. I haven't heard from him in over a week, though he posted a series of photos on from some rooftop bar a couple of days ago on Instagram. He was sipping drinks with a leggy blonde in a Nirvana crop top named "Ruby Tuesday," apparently. Lame.

"Still," I say. "I'd be lying, wouldn't I? You giving me a trip because of an emergency appendectomy isn't really a true manifestation, is it."

Lucy sighs, exasperated. "Jesus, Flora!, You teach that we're not supposed to question how the goodies get to us! We're just supposed to be open to receiving them. Wasn't that what your last video was all about? Ask. Believe. Receive?"

I blink at Lucy. "Wait. You actually watch my videos?"

She shrugs. "I have two kids under three years old, Flora. I don't really have a life."

"Thanks?" I say. "I think?"

"Oh, don't get all pouty. You're the first one to admit you're full of shit. How long are you going to keep this up, anyway? This online persona thing. It sounds fucking exhausting."

"I don't know," I say, though, to be honest, I have fantasized about faking my death and reappearing in a foreign country under a different name. But with 438k followers on TikTok, that would be easier said than done. Someone would be bound to recognize me at some point.

"You're making ends meet, though, right?"

"Of course," I lie. I don't feel the need to tell my sister that, despite my affiliate partnerships and sponsored posts, I'm currently living on my bank account's credit line, and my leased Benz is stinging me $850 per month. (The leased C300 that I, ahem... "manifested" four months ago.)