Page 45 of Well, Actually
Aida jumps, hands darting to her keyboard. In her panic, she must hit some wrong buttons, and a series of comments start popping up on the screen.
Someone PLEASE get this girl a muzzle i cannot with her
She’s literally so gross to me
Listening to her talk makes me believe women’s suffrage was a mistake
It’s such a shame and embarrassment that we give platforms to girls with nothing else going on besides being passably pretty.
They hover there for a few seconds, but it feels like I readthem a thousand times, and they become an instant, awful mantra that etches into my bones.
“Shit. Sorry.” Aida frantically clicks away the text bubbles.
“I…” I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. I feel so small, so laughably tiny. My insignificance is like a fresh slap to raw skin as my mind repeats people’s worst opinions about me.
“I’m sorry, but I find this pretty fucked up.”
It takes me a moment to process that Cooper spoke my thought out loud. I blink at him, emotions threatening to spill over. Silence stretches on the call, William’s thumbnail so still I wonder if my internet froze.
“What did you say?” he grinds out in a tone that makes mewishthe connection failed.
“These just aren’t funny,” Cooper states, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. “This is punching down, and invalidates the whole point of what we have going.”
“And what exactly is it that you have going?” William says with a snide laugh.
Cooper’s face twists in disbelief. “I mean… it’s pretty obvious, no? The whole gist is that guys historically are able to get away with shitty, emotionally damaging behavior toward women, and Eva is calling me out on it. But having her read comments this harsh derides it all.”
“I’m not emotionally damaged,” I add weakly, kidding myself.
“Your precious speech is rather redundant considering you’rebothreading harsh comments about yourselves. Having a sense of humor about it is the point.”
“One of Cooper’s is about how badly someone wants him to teabag them while mine essentially say I’m a shallow bitch with questionable looks who’s never had a real thought. I don’t see how we’re operating on the same level here,” I snap on a sudden rush of boldness, then cower at William’s returning stare.
He allows the silence to stretch, bending it into a needle that pokes and scratches my skin. “I’m sorry,” he says slowly, sounding anything but. “I was under the impression you two were serious about your careers and creating high-quality content with the potential to really take off, but now I’m not so sure. There are hundreds of people who would take both of your spots in a heartbeat, and I’d much rather speak with them than waste my time here.” He logs off before any of us can take a breath.
“Shit,” Aida says after a moment.
“That was really messed up,” I say, voice wobbly. “You told me it wouldn’t be that bad.”
“I said I didn’t know what it would be like,” she snaps, fear and worry etched across her features. “But William is not happy. I need to do some damage control here before we both lose our jobs.”
“I don’t give a shit about our stupid jobs right now,” I yell. “And you shouldn’t either after that bullshit.”
“Thatbullshitis the thing that pays our bills. I don’t have the luxury to say fuck it,” Aida hisses. “I actuallycareabout my career. And thanks to your temper tantrum, I now have to grovel to our new boss and his mommy for us to keep them.”
She logs off, and I’m smacked with my own reflection—lips parted and eyes rimmed with tears threatening to spill over. Not care? Not fucking care? What a cheap shot and Aida damn well knows it.
I care so much about this career—about doing something,anything, worthwhile—that I’m carving myself hollow trying to get there. I’m humiliating myself day in and day out at the snap of William’s fingers to chase the glimmer of a promise for something more.
And oh god,Landry. I should not have talked to her son like that. I admire the woman more than anyone, and it won’t win me any favors to turn her successor against me. Anxiety seeps through me in a rotten cloud as my brain gleefully catastrophizes what will come next. I can’t let this happen again, be this pathetic and reactive. From here on out, if William tells me to jump or sit or bark on command, I need to do that for him. It’s the only way to keep scrambling up this landslide of a career trajectory.
With a shaky breath, I try to collect myself, suddenly very aware that Cooper is still on the call.
“You okay, Kitten?”
“Never better,” I say back, voice breaking. I rub the heels of my hands against my eyes, cursing at the dark stains left on my skin from my smeared makeup.
Cooper catches my gaze and holds it. Something about his steadiness creates a shaky feeling in my chest, and I let out a slow, controlled breath through pursed lips. It doesn’t help. I just feel like crying more.
