Hearts

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At 11, Jenna calls. My paper is written and pasted to the Microsoft Word app, 3 pages long. I just need to edit and format. "Hi," I say once I answer the FaceTime.

"Whatcha doing?" The white of my screen reflects in my eyes; surely she can make out me typing in Microsoft Word. "Just browsing," I lie as I indent and edit. "You?" I stare at the small screen and catch bubbles from a bath and candles lining a tub. Jenna glows in the radiant atmosphere.

"Relaxing...today was rough...my boss...my first boss, is hammering down on everyone because a manuscript is missing. So the interns are the culprits, of course. He's probably going to fire all of us." She sighs. "UPS is going good; it's the most silence I had all day."

"Aww...that's bullshit." I pout as I double space a paragraph. "Do you still want to stay there?"

The water of her bath splashes as Jenna scrubs her arms and chest with a sponge. "Yeah and no. There's no pay for three years...two if I'm lucky. It's a waste of time, but it'll pay off. Imagine me as a literary agent!" She cocks a brow.

"Erotica all the way." I poke. "I guess you could wait it out..but damn, you have more endurance than me. I would've been quit; all you are is an errand chick."

"True...but the job has its perks, though. I get the scoop on new writers, if they have skills or if they're paying the way to success. How rich they are. If their book is even good. There's so much drama." Jen smirks as she scrubs her body.

I end the quick edit of my first paragraph. "Shit sounds like high school."

"It practically is...if we had a cold bitch of a principle."

"Ms. Bell was an angel...I wonder how she's doing."

Jenna's camera angle slides downward; she reaches to steady her phone. "She's on insta; her page is nothing but vacation spots. So she's living life."

"Hmm." I begin editing and formatting my second paragraph. "Must be nice."

"It would be...if somebody used their talent. Everyone at work agrees."

I stop reading my paper. "WHAT?!"

"I forward the video to my co-workers and to my fam, demanding them to share it. The post has 6.482k hearts and 633 comments now."

"I can't believe you did that!" I slap my forehead.

"Shut up and follow the attention, idiot...there are loads of model agencies on social media, certified ones. You need to start posting selfies and tagging their pages."

I roll my eyes. "Models need experience; anyone can take a selfie. It takes skills to be a model...there are schools dedicated to the form for a reason. I think it's cool that you shared the link, but it's just another video people will watch and forget." My tone goes snappy.

Jen stares at the camera with a taunting smile. "I'll do the scouting for you then."

"It's a dead end." I huff.

"Have some faith in yourself, alright."

"I have that...just not for modeling. I'd rather put my all into school and keep a real job as a safety net and not a pipe dream." My eyes go back to reading the second paragraph with a tight mouth. "Call you tomorrow. My paper needs work." I tap the end button before Jen can say goodbye.

I don't know if my vibe is vicious because of my paper or if I secretly want to follow the attention despite being rational. The support from strangers does concern me. I'm curious about the high numbers. I know I'm pretty, but enough to have 64k hearts?? Then again, that has to be nothing...I bet so many girls on TikTok have those many hearts, maybe even more.

I force myself to arrange the second, third, and fourth paragraphs. My time of completion is 11:50....so close to the deadline.

I export the document and save it to my files, iCloud. My phone buffers the download, taking a good minute to export. My fingers tap the screen, exit the app, and go back to my student portal. The internet lags, and the tab loads slowly on a white page. I exhale harshly as I wait. Finally, after twenty seconds, the page loads.

"Why did it take so long?..." My voice trails. "The bill isn't due...." I grumble. I click the submit button and import the saved document from iCloud. After this, I go to messenger and select Jen's tab. I was too mean...go on, apologize. I type: I'm sorry 😬

No reply follows, so I wait...even if it'll take a few minutes. My asshole alert sends signals to my heart...and crushes it with criticism.

Jen was being nice. Why did I hang up like that?? All she did was believe I could be a model...it's actually hot. My eyes hover on the TikTok link she sent me. My finger intriguingly tries to tap on it, but I pull it away, feeling like a puppet.

No, if I click on it, I will get big-headed and chase after fake fame. I don't want to be that type of girl. I'd rather work hard instead of meeting a dead end because five seconds of fame is not a joke.

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