“Let me see her!” Emma practically hopped up and down.
“Yeah, let’s have a look,” Harrison said.
“Okay but don’t make it a whole thing.” I ran a hand over my face even as I pulled up her account. “God, I shouldn’t have told you guys about her. It’s not anything like that. We’re just friends.”
I dropped the link in the chat for the call. “Right. That’s why she was the first thing you mentioned,” Emma said.
“Bloody hell, Brits are a sarcastic lot,” I grumbled, then quickly added, “Don’t use your professional accounts to look at her. I don’t want you accidentally liking her photos or some shit. I don’t want the super fans who stalk your activity harassing her.”
“Duh,” Emma said. “Oh, she’s lovely. Really, cheers. Oh, and single …”
“Nice,” Harrison said, his screen grayed out as he presumably scrolled.
“Okay, enough,” I said.
They brought their attention back to the call.
“I was thinking I should tell her who I am,” I said cautiously. My tiny face in the camera window was twisted in an unattractive wince.
My heart hammered even as I thought of how I would go about confessing the truth to her.
“You have to tell her who you are,” Emma said at the same time Harrison said, “Definitely donottell her.”
“Bloody helpful. Thank you, both.”
Emma looked aghast at Harrison. “Why should he continue to lie?” she asked.
Harrison ignored her and looked at me. “Listen, mate, what’s the plan? Where do you see this going? You trust her to find out who you are and not immediately send all your exchanges directly to the tabloids?”
“Harrison! Not everybody is evil and looking for their fifteen minutes,” Emma said, high-pitched.
“I didn’t say that they were, I’m just saying, they’ve been chatting online, what, a few months? How well does he know this bird?” He flicked his focus back to me. “Give it more time. Learn more about her. If things progress naturally and you really trust her, then go for it.”
“The longer he goes without telling her, the worse it will be.” Emma worried her lip. “Although.” She let out a sigh. “Is there anything in your exchanges that would be bad if the press got hold of it?”
The trickle of doubt at the idea of sharing my identity turned into a deluge. I hadn’t shared specific details, but I had poured out more of my soul to her than anybody other than these two. More so, if I was being honest. Not even Emma and Harrison knew how adrift I still felt. They’d want to interfere, and I wanted to figure things out on my own. I didn’t need them dropping everything in their epic lives to help their already screwed up friend. They’d done enough when I went to rehab. I was lucky to have not totally destroyed that relationship.
“Well, there’s your answer.” Harrison tapped a finger over his pursed mouth. “Tell me you didn’t send any prick pics.”
“Oh, Charlie, no,” Emma gasped.
“I didn’t! Bloody hell, you two. I’m not a total muppet.” I scratched at the back of my neck. “But I did talk about my drinking and … stuff.”
Emma made a sound of contemplation. “I hate to change my stance, but maybe Harrison’s right. It’s pretty soon to know if you can trust her.”
Harrison nodded. “Sorry, mate.”
“I don’t like being paranoid, but we’ve all been burned,” Emma said.
Each of us had at least one experience of being used for our fame. When I was still drinking, I woke up to find pictures of myself completely pissed and passed out in bed all over the internet. The woman I’d been hooking up with for three months decided it was time to cash in. And that was just one example out of countless others. It took time in this industry to know who you could trust with intimate details. A thousand friends and no allies.
“A few more months won’t change anything. If she’s the real deal, a little more time won’t matter,” Emma said.
“Yeah,” I said. “You’re right.”
“How did you meet to begin with? You just said online,” Emma asked.
I made a show of looking up to the door. “What’s up? Oh sure, be right there.” Turning back to the call, I said, “I gotta run.”
