Page 122 of Knot Baked Out For This
Days off. Like I'm a real person with a real business instead of an omega playing pretend.
"A day off," I'd repeated, like the words were foreign. "To do what?"
"Rest," Rowan had said.
"Relax," Levi had added.
"Exist without flour in your hair," Luca had finished.
The bell chimes, and I head out front to find Reverie already at her unofficial desk—really just a commandeered corner table— laptop open, surrounded by color-coded notebooks that probably contain plans for world domination.
"HAZEL!" She springs up, waving her phone. "The photos from last night! They're GORGEOUS!"
She shows me the pictures from my impromptu fashion show—me in that burgundy dress, laughing as Levi directed ridiculous poses, Rowan trying to be serious about "lighting" while obviously just staring at my legs, Luca pretending to be artistic while taking approximately 400 photos of the same angle.
"You styled these yourself?" Reverie asks, eyes wide.
"I mean... yes? I just put clothes together."
"Put clothes together like you're a Pinterest board come to life! These are professional-level styling! You should have posted them!"
"Posted them where?"
Reverie freezes.
Actually freezes, like someone hit pause on her entire existence.
"What do you mean by where?"
"I don't have social media."
The silence that follows is so complete I can hear the coffee machine's existential crisis in the back.
"You don't have ANY?" Her voice has reached a pitch only dogs can hear. "No Instagram? No TikTok? Not even Facebook like the elderly?"
"I mean, I had Facebook once, but Korrin made me delete?—"
"EMERGENCY!" Reverie shouts, just as Mila and Rosemarie emerge from the kitchen for their shift. "CODE RED! DEFCON WHATEVER NUMBER IS THE WORST!"
"What happened?" Mila asks, immediately concerned. "Is someone hurt? Did we run out of coffee?"
"WORSE. Our fearless leader has NO SOCIAL MEDIA."
Rosemarie gasps, actually gasps, clutching her chest like she's been personally wounded.
"But... but how do you exist?"
"With difficulty," I mutter.
"You have to have something," Mila insists. "I have three accounts just for my Sims families! And another for my savory dishes! And one for my dog, even though I don't have a dog yet!"
"I have seven," Rosemarie adds. "Including the official Starbucks Chicago one, they still pay me to maintain even though I haven't been there in months."
They're all staring at me like I've announced I don't believe in electricity.
"My phone isn't even that new," I admit, pulling out my ancient iPhone that's held together with hope and a prayer. "It barely takes photos."
"UPGRADE," Reverie says firmly. "Immediately. Today. Right now. Also, you need accounts, but I'll manage them so you don't see the weird stuff. People are unhinged online."
