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“Well, we talked to Maisie—” Alyssa begins.
“And she wants to meet you!” Trevor practically shrieks into his camera. “She wants a one-on-one interview,in person,” he says, emphasizing the last words.
“In person?” I echo the words dumbly.
“Yep. The media platform will livestream it on their website and their socials. Lacy, we are talking huge coverage here. Millions of people,” Alyssa says.
“Millions of people,” I parrot Alyssa’s words, feeling like my brain has short-circuited.
“So what do you say?” Trevor asks eagerly, his eyes glittering.
Don’t commit to anything,I remind myself.
“Uh, what do they want to talk to me about?”
“Maisieherself wants to talk to you about the inspiration for the poem.”
I feel like I’m going to be sick as Trevor and Alyssa continue chattering away excitedly.
“Everybody is talking about it!”
“The tabloids have already picked it up. They’re all asking who it’s about.”
“There’s even a hashtag for it! #StalkerMystery,” Trevor announces proudly, brandishing his phone at the camera. I watch in horror as he scrolls through social media, displaying one post after the next branded with the #StalkerMystery hashtag.
“Fuck,” I exhale the word in shock, my heart pounding. My stomach churns nervously again. What am I getting myself into?
Remember what Ben said. Don’t commit to anything.One tiny logical portion of my brain is still, thankfully, functioning.
“This is a lot,” I say to Trevor and Alyssa. “Can I take a bit to think it over? I haven’t done any media training or anything yet.”
“I don’t think—” Trevor starts to say something but Alyssa cuts him off.
“Yes, Lacy. We don’t want to push you into anything. I really wouldn’t worry about the media training,” she says, “Maisie’s interviews are usually super casual and genuine. So all you’d have to do is show up, be yourself, and answer some questions about the poem. That’s it.” She gives me an encouraging nod through the camera.
“Okay. I’ll text you later today, okay?” I say dumbly. I just want to get off this callfast. I can see Alyssa’s eyes looking at me hopefully, while Trevor looks like he’s about to jump through the Zoom screen in his excitement at this opportunity. I can’t think straight with the implicit pressure the two of them are creating. I need to take a beat.
“That’s perfectly fine, Lacy. Just let me know by the end of the day, okay?” Alyssa says.
“Yes, we need to get back to Maisie’s people!” Trevor adds.
“Okay, I will.”
Without bothering to say goodbye, I shut the laptop, eager to get away from them.What the hell am I going to do now?
The thought of doing any kind of interview is scary enough. The thought of doing an interview for Mayhem With Maisie, and with Maisie herself, is downright terrifying. I leave my laptop where it is and walk to the kitchen like a zombie, lost in thought.
“So? How did it go?” Ben says, looking up expectantly.
“I uh. I don’t know.”
I plop down onto one of the tall bar stools at the kitchen island, feeling like my legs can’t hold me right now. “You look a little shell-shocked.”
Ben comes over to me and takes my hands in his, peering into my face inquisitively.
“Well, they’re happy about the publicity.”
“That’s good. Don’t want to piss off your team.”
