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MxLeo83: I know a lot more than your name, doll face. I know you live at 113B West 54th Street above Carlo’s Pizza. I know you work at the coffee shop on Guilford Ave. You’re a Gemini, born on June 17th. And you’re currently out with friends, sitting next to a man who you have no interest in because he’s not me.
URBaby2000: You don’t know that.
MxLeo83: I do, Clara. Because you’re only interested in me.
URBaby2000: You’re a fucking psychopath. Leave me alone.
MxLeo83: I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to, doll face. You’re mine.
URBaby2000: I am not yours. Leave me the fuck alone.
MxLeo83: Tsk, tsk, Clara.
I stand up quickly, sending the chair backward until it lands loudly on the sticky wooden floor. Everyone looks at me, even those who aren’t at my table. I feel sick. This cannot be happening.
“Clara.” Vanessa’s voice cuts through the panic. “What is wrong?”
“Uh.” I look over at her, back at my phone, and then at her again. “Nothing, I just…I got a text from my dad. I need to go.”
I grab my phone from the table, and Vanessa’s hand lands on top of mine, halting my movements.
“Your dad is dead.”
Oh, yeah. I forgot I keep telling people that.
“Yeah.” I laugh uneasily. “Which makes this all the more shocking. I have to go.”
Before she can say anything else, I am booking it the fuck out of that bar. I don’t know if my little stalker is in there or if they’re across the street. Clearly, they’re not waiting for me at my apartment since they could see who I was sitting with. So I run outside, and there are no cabs. Of course there aren’t. It’s a Wednesday night, and I’m in one of the slowest parts of the city.
The only other thing in my little purse is mace and my keys. I pull them both out, keeping my phone tucked into the pocket of my coat. The door key is in between my fingers, ready to stab someone in the eye, while my mace is fisted firmly in my other hand, my thumb ready to press the button. If I can just make it home, I can lock my door and hide until I can figure out what to do.
Fuck, what am I going to do? This person was my main source of income. I was going to get a new apartment and pay off all my debts. They were the key to me getting out of this rut I’ve found myself in. And now it’s a random Wednesday night, and I’m running home from the bar in Bratz doll heels like some kind of crazy person.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I turn around to check my surroundings. I don’t see anyone suspicious. It doesn’t seem like there’s anyone following me. And it’s not like there’s a lot of places to hide on a city street. Sure, it’s dark outside, and there are alleyways every so often, but the street is very well lit. There are a decent amount of people walking around, so I’m not alone, and no one seems to bewatchingme.
So where the fuck is this person?
My phone vibrates again. I don’t have a spare hand, and I don’t intend on putting down either weapon just to check my phone. It’s either mystery person, or it’s Vanessa trying to figure out why the hell I just dipped on her after a whole five minutes. I’ll explain it to her later, but right now, I just want to get home.
Carlo’s Pizza is a welcome sight, and I hurry to open the side door, lock it behind me, and then run up the stairs. I make it into my apartment, lock the door, and slide down onto the floor. I’m too afraid to even turn on a light at this point. So instead, I just listen. I listen to hear if they’re trying to break in, if they’ve followed me. Can they pick the lock? Fuck.
I stand back up and link the chain lock. Then, I grab an old wooden chair that I keep around to reach things and shove it under the doorknob. At this point, I’m wondering if I should call the cops. But what are they even going to do? It’s not like they could find them just by their username. Maybe the website could help me?
That’s what I’ll do. I’ll report them to the website tomorrow and try to get them blocked from my profile. Maybe they’ll even block them from the whole site so that they can’t do this again. God, I knew this was a bad idea. I should’ve just stayed in my little bubble of credit card debt and been thankful I had a roof over my head.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and now that I’m home, I pull it out. I have a few missed messages from Vanessa, asking me if everything is okay. She wants to know when I make it home, so I quickly text her back and let her know. I tell her I’ll explain everything tomorrow at work.
And then I open the messages from MxLeo83. There’s only one.
MxLeo83: You like to be chased, Clara? Because I’m more than willing.
My body reacts, flushing hot and cold with fear. And shame. Because behind all that fear is a sliver of excitement.
I drop my phone and cry.
CHAPTER8
Clara
