Page 83 of Show Me How to Heal
Carter Parkers manager had known a guy who’d talked with us on the phone, had given us several options of what we could do, but he hadn’t been that optimistic that an interview with the press would make all the attention go away. I hadn’t liked it, but he’d been realistic about the time it might take for all the attention to die down.
And if an interview with the press wouldn’t make them go away any faster, I certainly wouldn’t give any interviews to those bloodsuckers. I didn’t need their money, and I knew damn well they’d already made a lot out of people reading their speculative articles hidden behind a paywall.
So, we’d decided to focus on the people that were actually important — Zayne’s customers and followers.
“Here’s another good one,” Moritz said from behind the camera that was pointed at Zayne and me. He and Avery were watching the live chat, looking out for good and repeating questions to ask so we were able to focus on the task at hand. “HeatherInTheDesert — and others, but I’ve got her question here — asks: ‘How do you plan to go on? Will you keep the shop? Will Luke stop working there?’”
“Well,” Zayne started, his eyes searching mine. I squeezed his hand, urging him to answer the question first. His smile turned fond, eyes shining with love, before he faced the camera again. “Ideally, we keep the shop. It’s been my dream for many years and closing down right after the grand opening would break my heart — especially if the reason for us closing this part of my business down isn’t due to lack of interest. Besides, the shop is where Luke and I really got to know each other and fell in love. It’s a passion project for both of us.”
My chest warmed thinking about how it all started. Our one-night stand turned to a job offer. All the time we spent planning and decorating, optimizing processing the orders from the online shop. The trust he’d put in me. The feeling of purpose the job had ignited inside of me.
“And I want to keep working there. However, as you can see from the pictures constantly being shared online, it’s just not possible at the moment.” I pursed my lips, took a deep breath, and tried to remind myself of all the tips Carter’s contact had given us.Be honest but stay positive. Don’t start cussing out the press.The last one was hard because all I really wanted to say was that the fucking idiots from the presses should just fuck off and leave us alone. The guy had probably known why he’d added that one. “For now, I’m going to help Zayne with the production and content creation side of the business. Hopefully, I’ll be able to return to the shop one day, because while it’s been Zayne’s dream, in the weeks between the soft and the grand opening, it became my baby. I’m excited to get to know about a different side of Zayne’s business and elated that I can still support him and keep working with him.”
That was positive enough, right?
And I hadn’t even cussed anyone out — even though I really want to.
Avery snorted. “DeanTheDom,” he started, blushing furiously while Zayne had to bite back a smile, “asks if you’re hiring.”
Zayne looked at me before slowly nodding.
This was a topic we hadn’t been sure about. Zayne’s fans and followers had been great during the last week, educating everyone about why stalking us didn’t equal being our biggest fan, and why it wasn’t charming or a nice gesture. Still, openly admitting you were hiring might open a new can of worms. This wasn’t a highly specialized job like YouTubers posting a job opening for cutters. This was an entry level retail position, and we were more than a little afraid of getting thousands of applications. On the other hand, we’d have to announce we were looking for an employee somewhere.
“We are,” Zayne said, his hands shaking in mine. I squeezed them and started drawing circles with my thumb. “We will create an official post on our website with all the relevant information about a starting date, requirements, and so on. We ask you to please refrain from sending any applications to the online shop’s general email address. Not only will we not take them into consideration, but it hurts every single customer needing to contact us about possible issues because we have to sift through all the applications first. Thank you.”
“And thank you for your unwavering support,” I added with a smile, though I mainly felt exhausted to the bone. The livestream was already going for over an hour, and even though this probably was one of the most comfortable interviews I’d ever had, I was just done with it. Oh, and we still had a reservation to make. “Thanks for every positive and encouraging word. Thanks for being so accepting of Zayne and me, and for educating people online about privacy issues. We see a lot of your encouraging posts and appreciate every single one, even though we aren’t able to react to everyone.”
Zayne gave a nod, smiling widely.
“I think that’s a great note to end on. We’ve taken up enough of your time, and I think our little bugger wants to go for another walk.”
Sammy tiredly raised his head, eyeing Zayne critically.
“Or maybe not,” I said with a laugh as Sammy rested his head on my feet again.
“Anyways, bye!” Zayne and I waved at the smartphone functioning as a camera while Moritz got up and stopped the live stream.
“It’s a wrap!” he declared. “So… can we go for a drink now? They do have food in The Bar, right? Because I’m starving.”
I let out a relieved breath, the last of the tension leaving my body while at the same time the dread inside of me started to build. Thousands had seen the livestream and many more would watch it in the coming hours. The press…
“You can’t control what they’ll write,” Zayne mumbled, leaning his head against my shoulder. “We did what we can, now we have to wait and hope that something bigger happens soon. It’s mean, but a good scandal from an A-list celebrity, and we’re old news.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “It’s still weird to hope someone messes up so we’re in the clear again.”
“Completely messed up. Welcome to the world of fame.”
“You’re not that big of a deal,” Avery said. “You’re not Jason Momoa who just cut his hair off.”
“What?”
“No way!”
“Shut up, he didn’t!”
Avery snorted a laugh. “And just like that, I think a gay former soccer player and his influencer boyfriend are old news.”
I wished he was right. Oh, how much I wished for it.
