‘Great. Then you don’t have a problem.’
‘Let’s say she tries to walk away regardless. A change of mind. Public pressure. Whatever.’
‘Why would she—’
‘Brian, please. Can you just answer my question?’ Elsa’s phone was still buzzing, buzzing. She had to turn her notifications off.
‘Okay. Well. You could sue for specific performance. People don’t do it very often, because you don’t want to do something like that publicly. It’s hard to claim that a model or influencer loves your clothing if you have to sue them to get them to wear it, you know? But there have been situations where a lawsuit has been threatened, behind the scenes, to force someone to follow through on their commitments. And if she did walk away, you could sue for damages. I mean, the impact on your business would be, I’d imagine, pretty severe.’
They talked for another five minutes, and by the end of their conversation, Elsa had a plan. She had to deny the story. There was no possible way to own her words and survive this. She had to deny it all, and she had to go on the offensive.
Elsa ended the call with Brian, turned off her notifications, and took a series of quick breaths. She closed her eyes. She could hear her own words again, her voice, so ugly, so arrogant and judgemental. Christ, shewasthat bitch. When had that happened? When had she become that person? She felt sick with shame, but there was no time for shame. She was about to lose everything.
Elsa clenched and unclenched her hands, trying to work herself up. She made sure Doris was fully engrossed in the television, then she retreated to the kitchen and dialled Darla’s number. It rang three, four times. And then Darla answered, in her Americanised drawl.
‘Well, you’ve got some balls calling me today.’
‘Did you do this?’ Elsa injected as much anger as she could muster into her tone.
‘Did I... what?’
‘I heard you wanted to get out of the contract. Is this your way of doing it? Because I swear, Darla, if I find out that you or your team is behind this thing, if this is your cheap way of getting publicity, I will sue you into oblivion.’
‘Elsa, what in theactual hellare you talking about? I just got out of a meeting to a thousand tags that led me to aheinouspost where you were talking shit about me. And now you call me and you—’
‘You think I made that audio? Are you serious?’
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and when Darla spoke again, it was with the slightest note of uncertainty. ‘It sure sounds like you. And that’s your husband you’re speaking to.’
‘For god’s sake, Darla. Ofcourseit isn’t me. I never said those words, or anything remotely like those words, in my life. Why would I? I pursued you for three months. I sent flowers to your house weekly. I wrote you emails that read like bloody love letters. And I paid you twice my entire marketing budget for the year. Why would I do all that and then turn around and talk like that? It doesn’t even makesense.’
‘Well, you obviously had a change of heart when you saw what a fat bitch I’ve become.’
Elsa closed her eyes. Guilt and fear combined to make her feel nauseous. There was insecurity in Darla’s tone, and pain.
‘What are you even talking about? You’re bloody gorgeous. You’ve always been gorgeous. But gorgeous is easy. There are a thousand gorgeous girls available from agencies in this city for a hundredth of what I’m paying you. You’re more than gorgeous. You’re a bloody movement. I don’t think you’ve changed physically in any way since we signed our contract, but even if you had, it wouldn’t matter to me.’
There was silence. Elsa could almost feel Darla’s confusion. She pressed her advantage. ‘You’re honestly telling me you didn’t do this?’
‘Why would I do it? It’s targeting me. It’s saying horrible things about me. Why would I do it? I don’t understand why you’d think I would.’
Elsa softened her tone. ‘Darla, it’s not really... look, someone on my team suggested that maybe you were behind this. Because the clip is going viral, and, you know, you’re going to get interview requests, and—’
‘You think Iwantpeople talking about this? You think I want to go on TV and podcasts and talk about how my boyfriend dumped me for the girl I’ve been best friends with since year seven and now they’re all loved-up on Insta? About how she told a mutual that he said he’s never loved anyone the way he loves her. We were together for four years. You think I want to talk about that? About how I’ve been comfort eating since? While the cameras follow me around to get photos of my fat arse?’ Darla was on the verge of tears.
Elsa rested her head in her right hand. She felt sick. Tears burned in her eyes. But her left hand pressed her phone firmly to her ear.
‘If you didn’t do it, and I didn’t do it, then who did?’ Elsa asked.
‘So you’re saying someone faked it?’
‘Of course! I mean, with AI, it’s not exactly hard these days.’ Elsa crossed the fingers of her right hand.
‘Yeah. That’s true.’
‘But I just can’t figure out who would want to do this. I mean, it’s an attack on both of us. I come off like an absolute bitch, and you... well, someone’s having a go at your looks. Who would do that?’
‘I can think of some people who want to take me down,’ Darla said, slowly. ‘You know how it is. You build a following on social, and you make enemies. People who want what you’ve got. People who think you got it easy. People who did exactly what I did, only it didn’t work for them, and they just want to take me down.’
