Wait, That's What Happened? ✔️

28| Social Media

Past Micheal's POV 

Likes, followers, posts, and comments. I love them all. In fact, I yearned for people to acknowledge me and my talent. But what really threw me off was a certain ratio. If I posted myself playing the piano, it would get an alright amount of views and likes and comments and however people chose to interact with it. However, if I posted a picture of myself running my hands through my hair a lot more people would tend to like that.

"Who's the pianist?" User928 commented. "He's stunning."

"Are there any more pictures of him? I could look at him all day," Josephine Galanis commented.

I got a lot of comments like that. People liked to look at me for some reason. Most of them were girls. Crazy and obsessive fangirls. I didn't mind, though. At least not until I started dating Marc.

After I started dating him, it was really weird having fangirls. They'd fawn over me and I would assure him that they didn't matter to me at all. I was fine doing that for some time, but it eventually caught up with me.

I hated social media, but I needed to post. If I didn't post, I was basically dead to the world and eventually made my way into articles. Then, I'd assure them that I was alive and just on hiatus. Then, I'd get death threats. Then, I'd fall into a depression. Then, I'd know not to repeat the cycle and to just keep on posting. Then, I'd get tired again and go on hiatus. In fact, I actually logged out of all of my social media because I would've gone crazy if I stayed online. I couldn't do that, of course. I needed to post pictures and videos and whatever people wanted. What crazy, obsessive teenage girls wanted, specifically.

I liked the attention to some degree, though. People thought I was handsome, pretty, they thought I was picture perfect. Behind the screen, I was far from that but on it, I was popular and amazing.

Death threats, threats, and attempts at doxxing. I was pretty good at not letting people see my location but they didn't stop people from trying. The death threats got to me, of course. But, I had to brush it off. I just had to. The threats were really scary. Honestly, I would have reported them to someone if I didn't spend my days ditching class to stay in bed while I scrolled through my phone, looking at people that had their life together and weren't a sad pathetic mess like me. I knew that I shouldn't compare myself to other people online, it was stupid and it was probably fake. But, how was I supposed to think that when it looked so real?

"Micheal, get up. You can't keep missing class," Marc said as he took my arm and attempted to drag me out of bed.

"Brandon's skin is so clear," I muttered, ignoring Marc. "I need to find out his skin care routine."

"Get up. You're going to miss your chemistry exam."

"Vanessa's hair looks so soft. I need her hair products. Maybe, I'll get more views if I alter myself just a little---"

"Micheal! Get up, now! I'm not going to just stand here and listen to you ramble."

I turned my head to face him. "I wish I had your voice, Marc. Mine is so...feminine. When will the testosterone kick in!"

"Soon, alright. You're a teenager, just like me. It'll happen soon enough."

"I sound like a child."

"No, you dont. You sound like ninety-nine percent of our school."

"Then, I wish I was someone else. Someone perfect."

He sighed and threw my uniform on the bed. "No ones perfect. It sounds cheesy or whatever, but it's true. Stop comparing yourself to unrealistic standards."