Follow Me Back (complete first draft of the published book)

Chapter 7: Unreal

"Unreal," he groaned. "Un-fucking-real.

They'd all completely missed the point, apparently. He'd just snapped 20 versions of that picture before he got the pose just right. He'd caught himself at an angle to keep the reflection of the phone out of the frame. He'd pressed his lips to the mirror and closed his eyes in mock passion, with his free hand clutching one of his well-defined pecs. Honestly, it was perfect, that picture - the ultimate caricature of vanity and self-absorption.

And what did the little fan girls have to say? "WHYYY IS THIS SO HOT????"

He should have known. He'd seen the smutty fanfics. More than a few paired him with Darren Womack, his male co-star from the surfer movie he'd appeared in last summer. They'd even made up a ship name for two of them: #Thormack. Another wonderful worldwide trend.

Not that anyone actually thought he was gay. He would've been fine with that, but that wasn't what those "slashfics" were about. It was something way more messed up. Way more controlling. A way of reducing him to some plastic action figure that they could contort into any bizarre position they desired.

And this picture played right into all their twisted fantasies. He'd just added fuel to the fire.

Eric's vision clouded with a surge of red-hot anger. Sick, each and every one of them. Someone needed to call them out. Tell them to get a life. Make them feel ashamed of themselves, once and for all.

This one, this @TessaHeartsEric... She seemed like a good place to start.

He raised his finger to tap the screen, already composing a scathing message inside his head. But his finger came down on nothing but blank white space.

Where was the DM button?

He stared at the screen in confusion for a full 30 seconds before comprehension dawned.

"Oh. Right."

He'd forgotten who he was for a minute there. It had been years since someone he wanted to message didn't follow him as a matter of course. But that only applied to his real account. Now he was @EricThornSucks, with no history and 0 followers to his name. He was nobody. He couldn't DM a soul.

He eyed the profile in front of him with a sigh.

Tessa H (@TessaHeartsEric)

17 following 30.1K followers

He could try to conduct his diatribe over public tweets, but chances were she wouldn't pay him much heed. Not with 30,000 followers. She might not even hear his voice, mixed in with all those others. No, if he really wanted to get through to her, he needed to do it over DM. And that meant he needed her to follow him.

This was going to be a little bit trickier than he'd thought.

***

Tessa was just about to reply to Naomi again, when a new notification distracted her.

Taylor (@EricThornSucks) favorited your retweet

Tessa crinkled her forehead in confusion. Speak of the devil. Why was this Taylor person stalking her account?

A new mention popped up on her screen a moment later. Someone had just tweeted at her.

Taylor (@EricThornSucks): How can you obsess over that pic @TessaHeartsEric? He is LITERALLY in love with himself!

Tessa eyed the tweet suspiciously. She should ignore it, she told herself. This Taylor could be anyone. A total stranger. Tessa flicked on the Account Settings menu, and her finger hovered over the first option:

Mute @EricThornSucks

Thank goodness for the Mute option. She'd made liberal use of it all week to deal with the sudden influx of tweets from unfamiliar usernames. She might have 30,000 people following her now, but she'd painstakingly silenced the voices of all but a trusted few.

Tessa was about the flick the button again now, when she heard Dr. Regan's words from this morning in her head:

"Any type of social interaction can hold therapeutic value."

Was it a mistake, all this muting? She'd wanted to avoid interacting with anyone other than the handful of users she knew to be harmless. But maybe she'd limited herself too much. Maybe it was just a defense mechanism, like hiding here in her room. Wasn't that what Dr. Regan would tell her? To open herself up. Make an effort to interact. Gradually expand the network of people she felt safe enough to converse with, until it became second nature - until she'd worked back up to the friendly, outgoing personality she'd once had.

"I need to try harder," she whispered to herself. What had this account really done, other than try to strike up a conversation? What was the worst that could happen if she responded? She and her therapist had spent months now running through role play scenarios for every imaginable social encounter, friendly or otherwise. She had the tools. She could do this. She was ready.

And in any case,Tessa couldn't deny the curiosity she felt. Who was this girl, Taylor, and where did she get that picture? Had she photoshopped it herself? Did she have more where that one came from?

"OK," Tessa said out loud to her phone, screwing up her courage. "You want to talk to me, Taylor? Let's talk."

She flicked away from the Mute option and quickly tapped out a tweet instead:

Tessa: @EricThornSucks who are you?

The answer popped back at her after a moment, setting off a series of rapid-fire tweets, back and forth:

Taylor: @TessaHeartsEric no one special

Tessa: @EricThornSucks are you a fan or a hater?

Taylor: @TessaHeartsEric just calling it like I see it. you can't tell me that pic isn't douchey

Tessa: @EricThornSucks it's fake duh

Taylor: @TessaHeartsEric says who?

Tessa: @EricThornSucks says my magic mystical photoshop detector

Taylor: @TessaHeartsEric BULLSHIT

Tessa: @EricThornSucks really?

Taylor: @TessaHeartsEric trust me it's real

Tessa: @EricThornSucks and you have it... why exactly? who are you?

Another notification popped onto Tessa's screen, just before the next reply:

Taylor (@EricThornSucks) followed you

Taylor: @TessaHeartsEric I'll tell you over DM. Follow me back.

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{Banner Image thanks to cuddlyxniall}