Gossip blogger haunted by Lena Dunham

Chapter 5

When she got back to work, Emma had to walk past her editor's office to get back to her desk. As she passed, she looked up from her phone to see who, besides the EIC, was inside.

She saw a dirty-blonde bob facing Marian and felt that famous-person aura, the same one she'd felt when she'd recognized James Franco just by the back of his head at Tribeca last year. But the owner of this mom hairdo couldn't be famous; she seemed chubby.

Unless — no — it couldn't be her. But it looked exactly like her. It was her. Lena was in Marian's office, telling her to fire Emma. Those visions of Lena at home, in the bathroom, they weren't hallucinations — Lena really was trying to sabotage her.

Emma felt her pulse quicken and went dizzy. The room was spinning. She turned to walk back to her desk and saw Jason glaring at her from his seat. 

What the fuck? he mouthed to her.

Patches of darkness were blocking her vision. She tried to answer him — "Lena's in there!" — but nothing came out. Instead, everything went black.

                                                                                                 —

Emma awoke in the hospital. Jason was sitting right next to her looking at his phone. He looked up for a second and realized she was awake.

"Oh, hey," he said. "You passed out. They think you OD-ed. Marian said I could have the afternoon off if I waited at the hospital for you to wake up, so."

God, how embarrassing.

"OD-ed?" Emma said, practically a whisper. "What would I even OD on?"

"I don't know, probably your ADD medicine, right? Didn't you just fill your prescription? What, did you accidentally take five in your sleep again or something?"

"Shit," Emma said. That must have been exactly what she'd done this morning. And she hadn't even gotten to bed until 5:30 a.m. She wondered if she'd at least remembered to throw in her birth control pill.

"Yeah, thought so," Jason said. "They already pumped your stomach."

Great, how much was that going to cost in medical bills?

"Your Maoz is probably in the fridge," Jason added. He scrolled through his phone. "Now I guess they'll put you on suicide watch because of the pills."

Emma rolled over so that she wouldn't face him. How humiliating. To pass out at work with a bag of falafel in her hand because she took an overdose of amphetamines by accident — pathetic. And no one would believe it was an accident, right? Her parents didn't even know she was on any medication besides birth control. What would they say?

But she had something else to worry about.

"What was Lena doing in Marian's office?" she asked Jason.

"Lena?"

"I saw her."

"Oh my God, Emma, you really are on drugs. I told you I was fucking with you earlier. There's no Lena Dunham meeting."

"Who was that girl with the bob, then?"

"I don't know, a new intern? They'll be needing them since you're clearly in no position to work."

He was right. There was no way Emma could go back to work after this. 

Maybe she could focus on writing real things now, not blog posts. She could finish one of her screenplays or a TV pilot or maybe even a book. She closed her eyes and wished herself away to a mountain, an island, a European capital, or all three rolled into one: some imaginary abstract place where writers went to write. All she needed was a laptop and a power outlet and a couple thousand dollars and three months. She'd be free if she could just get away from the Internet, away from other bloggers, away from Twitter and Facebook and Instagram and her phone —

She started to panic — where was her phone?

                                                                                     THE END