Page 85 of Someone Just Followed You

My eyes blur with tears while my cheeks burn with fury. ‘I would never be friends with you.’

‘Sorry, babe, but that’s what we are. Best friends, in fact.’

I think about my last conversation with the girl I knew as Coco, how concerned she’d sounded about me traveling to Vegas to meet a stranger. How could she also be that stranger? ‘But Coco told me not to come,’ I say. ‘Why would you lure me here, then try to stop me? It doesn’t make sense.’

‘You know, Maple, I love to observe people, and record the moment, one way or another. Did you know I was at your photoshoot in Vegas?’

‘What?’ I stare at him through the gloom. Is he the man who dropped the diffuser? That guy had long hair and a thick beard, but of course those can be shaved off. I don’t recognize him, but then maybe I wouldn’t; I only looked at the guy for a few seconds. Couldn’t stomach his disgusting stare for longer than that.

‘You don’t recognize me, huh? You know, it’s amazing what you miss if you don’t look properly. Just as it’s amazing what you see if you do. And trust me, you learn a lot about reverse psychology from observing people, especially if they’re on the edge of something, whether that thing is the worst thing possible, or the best.’

‘You mean you told me not to come to make sure I did?’ I say, trying to make sense of his words.

‘Aren’t I smart, Maple?’

‘And Sophie Lyle? I suppose that’s a fake story too?’

His face suddenly changes. Darkens. And then I feel his hand whip across my cheek.

Chapter 100

Maple

@Lois.Studio88, TikTok

I worked with Maple Clark on a photoshoot in Vegas. She was a star, but I remember thinking her mom was a lot; she took more photos than we did. Poor kid. God, I hope she’s okay #findMaple

I gasp. My neck snaps. Pain ricochets around my head. I close my eyes. I want to curl into a ball, wrap my arms around my knees, but I can’t even do that in these chains.

‘Of course Sophie Lyle is real!’ he shouts.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, trying to defuse his anger. I want to hold my cheek. But that means shifting toward him to allow the chain on my arm to reach, and I’m not doing that.

‘Sophie Lyle was very important to me,’ he says, his voice quieter now, but somehow even scarier. ‘She shaped my life.’

‘How?’ I whisper, thinking of the different ways a dead teenager might shape an old man’s life. None of them good.

‘You know, the world talks about social media being fake,’ he says. ‘That we put content on there that makes our lives look perfect, when the reality is completely different. But that’s bullshit. It’s not just on social media that we do that. We pretend that we’re happy, that life is wonderful, all the fucking time. Even as that voice in our head screams at us that we’re worthless, we still smile, act like we’ve got this. People are so fucking scared of being themselves, of owning up to their own shit.’

Despite everything he’s done to me, his words kind of land. Because I moan about always having to create more content, to smile for the camera. But I’m not that different when we’re not filming. Still desperate to be liked. By my friends, by Theo and Dylan, my mom and dad.

Brandon must see the understanding on my face, because he smiles like we’re in this together, Coco and Maple reunited. I look away, disgusted with myself.

‘It’s not often that we show our real, true selves, is it?’ he goes on. ‘Mask removed, raw feelings on display. But Sophie showed me hers, and I’ll always be grateful for that.’

Then he pulls my chin around and gives me that weird, gross smile again, part little kid, part senile old man. ‘And now I want to see the real you, every part of you.’

His words crawl over me. ‘Did you do it?’ I whisper, my need to know suddenly urgent. ‘Did you make those pictures of me for the dark web?’

His face tightens. ‘Oh that. No, I made that up.’

‘Huh?’

‘Well, it was all Dylan this, Dylan that,’ he goes on, flicking his hand left and right. ‘How gorgeous he was, what a great team you made. It was gross, babe. Embarrassing. I needed to take the clippers to your ego.’

‘Wait, are you saying my images aren’t on the dark web?’ I ask, my heart thudding. ‘You only said that because you were jealous?’

‘It didn’t work though, did it? You and Dylan got tighter, if anything. That’s why I had to separate you permanently.’ He clicks his tongue, like he’s bored of the conversation. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Dylan.’