Page 50 of Totally Fanatic

They are twisting everything into something it’s not. Tim doesn’t deserve this. He’s amazing and everyone knows he’s amazing.

I scroll through my social page, shocked by how many messages there are. Some people congratulated me for “snagging a Funky Monkey.” Another called me “horrible” and told me “I should be ashamed of myself.” There are even more direct messages and none of them so far are very nice at all. Wow, people can be… well, mean. They don’t know me. They don’t know Tim. They don’t know what really happened.

Then it hits me. That’s what we need to do. We need to tell everyone what really happened. They need to hear it from usthat this is all just a gigantic mix-up. I grab my phone, ready to message Tim my idea but see he’s already messaged me.

TIM: Turns out there were Banana-Ramas at the pub. They gave the bullshit story to the media, and they’re the ones making all this shit up online.

LION: They have been tagging me in posts, too.

TIM: I saw. I’m so sorry they are saying all those things about you.

LION: Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, you just focus on the game. I’ll be right there in the stands cheering for you.

TIM: I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t play. The GM has asked to see me before the game. It has to be about all this stuff online, there were Banana-Ramas outside the gates with signs today picketing. You don’t have to come. You shouldn’t have to deal with them.

LION: It’s only words. You love baseball. Don’t let them stop you from doing what you love.

TIM: Maybe the GM doesn’t want me to play either. Maybe that’s why they are calling me in.

LION: I don’t think that’s it.

I can’t be sure. I mean, it could be it, but Bart would be benching his best player, so I don’t see it happening.

TIM: I wish you were here.

LION: I’m on my way.

TIM: Sorry. That was selfish of me. I can’t ask you to be here, to deal with them just for me.

LION: I’m coming to the game no matter what. You can’t stop me from supporting you. I can handle a couple Banana-Ramas being idiots for a few hours if it means I get to see you hit that homer.

TIM: Thanks. It might be more than a couple, though.

LION: I’ll handle a million of them for you. See you soon.

Nothing he could say could stop me from being there tonight. He’s trying to protect me, but I can tell he needs me. He needs me to make this okay. It was my multiple accounts that got these Banana-Ramas all riled up, it should be me that fixes it. Maybe instead of avoiding them, I try to explain it to them. They will see how wrong they are if they just listen, right? I have to try.

Chapter nineteen

TIM

I was obsessed withlooking at everything anyone posted about me online, and now I’m wondering how anyone stays sane on these things. It’s not right that anyone can just post anything they want, even flat-out lies. There is no accountability. The negative stuff is spreading faster than the positive comments in large part because of the super-obsessed Banana-Ramas clogging the feeds with their crap. Not surprising but still really disappointing. I head into the main offices and find the PR Manager, Enzo Grey, is waiting for me, a binder in his hands.

“Oh good, we can get started,” he says, opening the door to the GM’s office. “Bart, he’s here.”

“Umm, Enzo, do you think you could maybe get security to check on Lion?”

“He’s here?” he asks, eyes widening in a way that makes me really glad I’m bringing it up.

I nod. “He said he wasn’t going to let this all stop him from being there for me, which is sweet, but the last few posts from the Banana-Ramas were pretty bad, and I saw a few with signson my way into the field demanding the league ban Lion for life. I just would feel better if maybe security stayed nearby in that Big Banana Season Ticket section.”

“We’ll send someone to collect him,” Enzo says, and he touches a finger to his ear. “Do you know the seat number?”

“No, but he’s the only gorgeous giant wearing a Tim jersey with strawberry blond hair, should be easy to spot.”

Enzo shakes his head with a slight smirk, then talks into a mic sitting at his collar. “Please collect Lion Matherson from the Big Banana section. He’ll be wearing a Tim Sage jersey, is about six-feet with… reddish-blond hair.”

“Thanks.”

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