Not His Type → Jack Gilinsky [DISCONTINUED]

19. Rock Bottom

(nineteen)

ELLA POV

I fell asleep soundly, but I feel like I've only sunk. I try to open my eyes, but the light from the lamp is too bright. I turn my head to see if Brooke is still up, my neck aches to move.

"Ow..."

"What's up, Ellassss?" Brooke says, lively. I smile at her despite not opening my eyes to see her.

Inside, I feel... a little strange. My throat feels tight. I don't know if it's because of the wasabi or if I'm getting sick. I cough, trying to see if the feeling would go away.

"Are you sick or something? You better stay away from me," she laughs. She sounds like she's in the kitchen.

"Maybe."

"Mhm, sounds like you are."

My eyes finally have the strength to open. Then, I realize it's still dark out. I groan and push myself up. "What time is it?" I ask, rubbing my eyes. My stomach feels like it's being constructed by an anacondas. (DON'T WANT NOTHIN' LESS YOU GOT BUNS HUN!1!1!1)

"2 am."

I exhale. I look around for my phone. "My phone?"

"Table." I hear chip bags cringle. I roll over to the lamp table. Brooke jumps on the couch and turns on the tv.

"What do you do for living? Oh, you have netflix, don't you? Netflix is the only reason I still live."

I yawn," Besides air... and food-"

"Oo, another big reason I'm still on the planet." She adds with chips in her mouth and turning on the tv.

"And to accomplish your dream of surpassing my Twitter followers," I say, rolling my eyes. She nods,"You know I will one day."

"And Wilk..." She coughs and spits a chip at my foot.

"Ew. Brooklyn, that's disgusting." I say, shaking my foot. Hopefully, I don't have to pick it off.

"So is Wilkinson." She says, opening Netflix. I wipe my foot on her back.

"Ohh, you're over the nicknames? What happened to milky wilky?" I coo.

"That was never a nickname." She says in a tone that means she doesn't want to talk it.

"Ohh, right. Wasn't it something like dicky Wilky or-" She swings a pillow at me.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch." It's silent for awhile, then I try to take a chip.

"BITCH, ONLY FRIENDS GET FOOD. ARE-" I put my hands over her mouth and she bites it.

"Ow-"

"You crazy? You betrayer of all betrayers. The king of the Satans-"

"Okay, okay, I get it." I laugh, but she gives me an unconvienced look. I take my phone off of the table and Brooke turns to look at me.

"What?"

"Nothing." She says, flatly, turning back to Orange is the new black.

I shrug it off and open Intagram. The first picture is a pathetic edit. I laugh.

"What?"

"Look at what Nathan made."

"God, what is that?" It was an edit. It said, "When your friend's mom kicks you out, but let's some one else stay over the night."

I laugh and Brooke shakes her head.

I scroll down. Next is a picture is a fan account for me.

It's a collage of tweets and pictures of the basketball game a few hours ago. I read the caption: brooke was slaying and what does everyone think of #jella? Ship or nah? I don't. I think jack is just being a dick. Eventually, the whole thing will blow over, but i think this will become a fanfic and they're happily end up to together regardless of the fans tbh

I groan. Brooke slaying? She always is, but why is this trending?

I exit Instagram and go on Twitter. That's where all the sh*t starts-can't deny it.

The first tweet I find on the hashtag is:

Another day, another slay for Brooke #brookeslaysagain #sheatitagain

"Hey, Brooke." I say, not looking up from my phone and continue scrolling.

"Mhm?"

"Who'd you slay today?" I ask. The feeling in my throat itches.

Deep inside, I feel like I already know, but I stay silent, so Brooke can talk.

"So, I tried to chat with Jack..." She says, not looking at me. I raise an eyebrow.

"He wouldn't answer, so I kept spamming him." I scratch my throat.

I continue to scroll through the hashtag. One in particularly stood out.

Ella has lost about 3k subs. Jack clearly has the upper hand. I reread the tweet over and over again.

I'm losing subs, just because of Jack. What happens if this keeps going on?

Someone tweets again and I'm brought back to the top.

How does rock bottom feel, Ella? @ellajdc

AUTHOR'S NOTE

My anacoda don't, my anacoda don't want nothin' less you got buns, HUN.

Please explain to me how "Gilinsky" autocorrects to violinist. Who controls autocorrect? Who designed it so well that it could destroy social lifes with a single blow?