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“Oh god,” she said. “Just tell me.”

“It’s Delaney Summers.”

Lola braced herself.

“She says… Fuck, are you sure you want to hear this?” Lola nodded, and he continued. “She says, ‘Thanks a lot, Lola. I was about to close on a deal with Athletic Greens and they just told my team they’re looking for someone less bland.’”

“I want to change my name and move to Japan,” Lola said.

“Unfortunately, I do think they know who you are in Japan. You have another one. Do you want me to read it?”

“Just tell me everything.”

“‘Hi Lola. I was going to buy a house for my aging parents with the money I was making from my Amazon storefront, but no one has gone to it ever since I got put on a list of the most boring influencers.’”

Lola started to cry. She didn’t hold back; she just sobbed into herhands until she got hiccups.

It was bad enough people were coming forher, but these messages meant the discourse was impacting influencers across the industry too—girls who were her friends, or at least girls she was friendly with. Everyone was being trolled, put under the microscope, criticized using this new filter Aly had designed. Lola couldalmosthandle being the sole recipient of the internet’s rage. But the fact that she’d brought this storm down on everyone? That was unforgiveable.

“I should stop. This is too much. I’m sorry, Lola.”

“No,” she said between sobs. “I need to know what they’re saying.”

They were all mostly the same, though—influencers who had come to yell at her as though she’d done any of this on purpose.

She fell asleep with her head on Ryan’s shoulder.

When she woke up, it was 3:00 a.m., and he was gone.

She grabbed her phone, swiping past the hundreds of alerts that crowded her home screen, and then without thinking twice, she deactivated her Twitter. It hadn’t ever brought in any money anyway.

“Fuck you, Elon,” she whispered.

She got a carton of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. She took it back to bed and ate the whole thing before falling back asleep. The empty container slipped out of her hands and fell to the floor, next to the dried tea bag.

***

Can I do anything?Justin texted.I’m so sorry I’m not there.

It was morning—or at least, morning for some people. For Lola, it was just another moment in one long endless horrible day.

No, she said.

I love you, he sent.I’ll be back in a few days.

Thanks, she replied and pulled the covers over her face.

He texted back a question mark, and she ignored it.

He texted again:Are you mad at me?

No. Just want to die.

Please don’t die, he replied.I need you.

She didn’t know what to say.

She was grieving the death of her reputation but had skipped the denial phase. She was in complete acceptance.