Page 52 of Guarded Hearts
Since Mia and Tyler had gotten together, Tyler had taken Mia’s social media obsession in stride. Tyler didn’t put as much stock in the things people posted or said. I’d been in the limo when Tyler had told Mia more than once, “They don’t know us. They don’t know what we have. They don’t get a say in what makes us happy.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll talk to Alyssa.”
When I entered the ballroom, Alyssa was in the far corner, her hair pinned back and a frown on her face as she stared at her phone. Had Mia’s prediction already come true? Without my own social media accounts, I hadn’t been able to keep a beat on what had been happening today. Even if I had those accounts, my day had been filled with firming up security measures, talking to hotel staff, helping Tyler search for a honeymoon location, and trying not to see the hurt look in Mia’s eyes each time our gazes connected.
The story broke last night, so we were still in the middle of the crashing waves.
“Alyssa.” My voice was husky. I could take letting Mia down, but I couldn’t handle Alyssa in pain. When she glanced up, her tears were evident, even from this distance. I closed the space between us and drew her into my chest. “Are you okay?”
“Did she fire you? Everyone on social media is calling for you to be fired.” Her voice caught. “I couldn’t stand it if you got sent back to Russia because of me.”
I cradled her to my chest and took a deep breath. “She’s not going to fire me. She’s angry and hurt, but she’s not going to fire me.”
She released her breath in a whoosh against my T-shirt. “Oh, thank God. I’ve been so worried all day. I knew you were talking to her earlier, but I didn’t want to text you because I figured you’d either be busy or, you know, just wanted to be alone for a bit to process.”
“It’s going to be fine. Mia has a strategy.” Her phone was pressed against my chest, which reminded me of Mia’s warning. “Is anyone being mean to you?”
With a humorless laugh, she gazed up at me. “Of course. I’m the harlot. The temptress. The one who swayed you from your unwavering loyalty to Mia.”
“Are you blocking and muting those people?”
She frowned and cocked her head. “People can think whatever they want. I know the truth.”
I scanned her expression, unsure whether I should push. Were people not being too terrible yet? Maybe they wouldn’t be. Perhaps Tyler, Mia, and even I were exaggerating.
“Over time, with Mia, the comments can…” I searched for the right word. I used my hand to indicate what I meant. “Stack?” I grimaced. “So many people’s opinions can become a lot.” The words I wanted to say weren’t coming very well. Anonymous people on the internet could be cruel, either forgetting or not caring there was a person on the other end of their comments.
She patted my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Seriously. I grew up in the dance world with people dissecting your body, your every movement, every facial expression. A few mean people on the internet won’t break me.” On her toes, she kissed my cheek. “Your worry is sweet, though.”
I took a deep breath. Perhaps she didn’t need to hear what I was going to say next, but I needed to be sure I’d said it. “Mia said to remind you that muting and blocking people is okay.”
Alyssa laughed. “I won’t need to do that. I’ve got a thick skin.”
I wasn’t sure how tough her skin would need to be. I’d have to take her word for it that she could handle the onslaught. With a kiss on her forehead, I held out my hand to her. “Shall we dance?”
She took my hand, and I spun her around, my handholds changing with ease. She grinned when she came to a stop.
“I’m just so glad she didn’t fire you. Nothing could ruin the next two weeks for me. You, me, dancing, the beach. It’s like paradise.”
I hoped that prophecy proved true. From experience, I knew how rough the social media waters could be once they’d been stirred.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alyssa
Alone in my hotel room, I scrolled through my social media notifications. I’d been under assault for almost two weeks. Every day, Jazz posted new photos of Pasha or me or the two of us together, with new claims about the supposed illicit, dangerous, and deceptive relationship we had. All garbage with no basis other than random photos and a narrative Jazz had created.
Still, the onslaught of hate from men and some women I’d never met was getting a bit much. I’d blocked and muted more people in the last few days than I’d ever thought possible. How were there so many vile people in the world?
I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Mia, but we were both tagged in almost every post Jazz made. Mia’s notifications were probably flooded on a daily basis with random people’s insights into her life, her songs, the way she ran her business. Perhaps this onslaught wasn’t any worse than normal. If it wasn’t for Pasha, my thick skin would have started to crack and bleed.
Every night, Pasha came to my room, and every night, I’d pass him my phone, and he’d scroll through my mentions, blocking and muting people while we talked about our day. I’d agreed to let him help with the notifications after he found me crying over one particularly nastycomment made by a dancer I used to know. We’d been friends, once, and the comment had stung more than any of Jazz’s posts. This personknew meand still believed I was a terrible person for violating such a small piece of my contract.
After we’d talked, Pasha had suggested deleting all my social media apps from my phone, since I never knew what I’d find. But I already felt disconnected from my friends and family while on tour. With only four days between the wedding and rehearsals for Sarah’s tour, I wanted to be in the loop when I saw everyone. So my social media accounts were staying, even if their presence strained my emotional resilience.
When a knock sounded on my hotel room door, I jumped. I’d been caught up in the vitriol against Mia, Pasha, and me. Tucking my phone in my back pocket, I checked the peephole.
Mia.Alone. She never went anywhere alone.
