Page 12 of Devoted

I was so confused as to what information she was basing her impending demise on. I’d checked the rankings to see her latest release sat happily in the number one spot as it had for the past four days. On further questioning, it transpired that she hadn’t even checked her author dashboard. All of her fears were based on ‘vibes.’

Basically, her anxiety was doing a fucking number on her, convincing her of shit that simply wasn’t true.

Having a lot of experience with that myself, I knew exactly how to talk her down. By the time we hung up, she was calm and ready to write.

If only I was able to talk my own brain down as easily.

Dealing with my authors wasn’t a negative thing; it was part of the services I offered. As well as doing organising and marketing, I was a sounding board. A safe space for them to be able to vent or just cry. I was happy to do it.

But it had put me behind.

By two p.m., a headache was banging at my temples and fatigue was weighing on me.

It didn’t help that I’d stayed up until three a.m. chatting to Zeke. At the time, I’d regretted nothing. What was a little exhaustion if I got some happiness first?

The answer had hit me like a sledgehammer this morning when I slept through my alarm. I didn’t wake until the sun was high in the sky, my phone buzzing almost constantly as various clients tried to reach me.

One even worried I was dead, and threatened to do a welfare check.

I wasn’t dead, I just felt like it.

On an ordinary day, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Even with a tonne of shit going on, I’d still be able to sneak a few minutes to chat with Zeke. But with a to-do list as long as my arm, it had made things more difficult than usual. Add in the extra work that’d slowed me down, and I barely had time to breathe, let alone check the gaming app.

It was ridiculous how much it was irritating me. My mood shouldn’t have been dependent on whether I could chat with someone or not. I had a life. A job. I couldn’t spend all my time online with Zeke.

Even if that was what I truly wanted to do.

Some people might have been able to push some of the tasks to the next day, but not me. I had to be perfect…which meant never missing a deadline. Missing it would mean I was failing. Failing in one area meant I’d fail in all areas.

And failing in all areas meant I’d end up homeless with no food or shelter and quite possibly no clothes either. I would be naked, wandering the streets in the rain. It was simply the end of the world at that point.

No, it wasn’t logical. Yes, I knew that. But it didn’t change anything.

Not getting it done simply wasn’t an option.

By the time I finally finished, it was gone eleven p.m. Sleep was tugging at my eyelids, but nothing was going to stop me logging on to the game. All damn day I’d been glancing at my screen, longing to open the app just to see if Zeke had messaged.

I’d managed to resist, knowing if I checked, I’d lose several more hours.

Now though, with everything else done, I could give in to temptation. After the shitty day I’d had, I needed to talk to him. To have a few hours where I could just…be myself.

That was the thing about online friendships—you didn’t need to mask as much. There was time to think through your response before you sent it. No one was analysing your body language or tone of voice. It was just words on the screen, crafting whatever persona you wanted.

The irony that the persona I showed was my true self didn’t escape me. With Zeke, I was almost reverse catfishing. I was exactly the person I was on the inside.

But if we ever met in real life? That wouldn’t be the version he’d meet. It couldn’t be, not when I’d let my guard down in the past only to pay with my own heartbreak.

The screen loaded and my heart sank as I spotted the little grey dot beside Zeke’s name. He’d sent me a couple of messages during the day, just saying hi and asking what time I’d be around, but the last one had been sent four hours ago.

I tried to ignore the gnawing disappointment in my stomach. What was I doing, hanging all my hopes of joy on an online chat with a stranger?

Maybe this was for the best. We could go one day without talking. We should. This dependency I was feeling was far from healthy.

My fingers danced over the keys as I typed out that I was sorry to have missed him, but I’d be around tomorrow. Before I could hit send, his icon turned green.

Yes.Hastily deleting what I’d typed, I quickly replaced it with a greeting.

Sam

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