After a sudden hiatus from social media, popular YouTuber Belinda Quincy feels like she has her mojo back and attempts to do something to make it up to her fans. But that's when a mystery girl's music video goes viral.
Jealousy creeps in at all the...
YWN suspects (written in confusion and what looks to be crappy handwriting so far because I'm not in the mood to be beautiful).
1. Amparo Cotton - because she seems to just hate me (I don't have her phone number).
2. Jessica Lupinacci - because she seems to know everything. She's also a journalist (I don't have her number, either).
3. Ashton Milworth - because I just don't like him (I definitely don't have his phone number).
4. Jun, Fleur and Frankie - because I don't know! (Their phone numbers exist on my phone—RIP—only in my dreams).
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"I am so going to murder you, Jessica!"
Bella's fists were balled at her sides, and she looked like she could defeat anyone and anything that stood in her way as she made her way to the cafeteria—where she knew Jessica was.
She kicked the cafeteria door open for dramatic effect, then made her way to the table surrounded by red T-shirt-wearing girls.
"Jessica!" she exclaimed, gaining the attention of everyone, and all the girls at the table turned to her. "What is your problem? What the hell is wrong with you? What do you want?"
Jessica stared at her like she was speaking gibberish, then said, "What do you mean?"
"You're asking me what I mean? You just seriously asked me what I mean?"
A redhead sighed, looking uninterested, then said in a bored voice, "Um, we're trying to have an important meeting here. So please take whatever problem you have back to your locker."
"I was talking to Jessica," Bella fired back immediately, then turned back to the blonde. "You followed me on Friday, took a photo of Travon and I, then posted that I'm a player. Do you have any idea what it felt like reading all those comments and nursing anger for two whole days?" Bella couldn't get her mind off the post all weekend.
Jessica laughed, making Bella angrier. "Okay, first off, I didn't follow you on Friday, and I definitely didn't take the photo of you two. I admit to posting it, but that's it. And, I know what it feels like to read comments and nurse anger for two whole days."
"Who took the photo?" Bella asked, glaring daggers at her.
"Cami did." She gestured to the girl with a baby face and curly jet black hair beside her. "She was just walking past when she saw you. By the way, we're journalists—it's our job to report."
Bella slammed her palms down on the table, sending a stinging sensation through them and causing a few of the girls to flinch. It was a table for four, but they had added six chairs to make it suitable for ten. "Don't give me that baloney! My personal life doesn't concern you; your journalism doesn't have anything to do with it. You're not the paparazzi. And, for your information, Travon and I are friends."
