Page 14 of Anxious Hearts

‘This is unbelievable,’ he said. ‘You’ve got hundreds of messages. Some from young girls. Even more from parents of young girls.’

‘Saying what?’

‘That you’re a role model and inspiration.’

‘I’m neither of those.’

Finn looked up. ‘You are, Kel. Whether you like it or not.’

‘Well, I don’t like it.’

‘That’s the cost of being in the public eye.’

‘I never wanted to be in the public eye.’

‘Too late now.’

Kelly snatched her phone from Finn’s hand and scrolled through the messages.

He was right, there were hundreds and hundreds of them.

The profile pictures were mostly young girls or what she presumed were their mothers.

But there were some men as well. She clicked on one and flinched like she’d been slapped.

No words, just an image of a penis; clearly a selfie.

She madly tapped the screen with her thumbs but without success.

‘Eeewww, get it off! Stop it, make it go away!’ She threw her phone down on the table.

Finn glanced at the message. Clenched his jaw. ‘Sick fuckers,’ he muttered. ‘I thought I blocked all the perverts.’

Kelly had started sweating and her stomach swirled like she had seasickness. ‘Why would he send me that?’

‘Obviously an arsehole.’

‘I mean, I know people send nudes to each other but why would anyone send one to me? I don’t even know him. It’s not even my account!’

‘Welcome to the twenty-first century, Dr O’Mara. It’s a jungle out there.’

Kelly sat down next to Finn and leaned against his bulk. ‘Social fucking media. The devil’s spawn.’

Finn laughed. ‘It’s not all bad, Kel. There are hundreds more messages of support for you on there than there are dick pics.’

‘Can you delete them?’

‘Of course.’

‘What should I do with all the others?’

‘There are too many for you to respond individually. You should just post a pic of yourself and caption it with a note of thanks. Let’s workshop some ideas.’

Kelly leaned away from him and smirked. ‘Workshop some ideas?’

‘It’s something my publicist says.’

‘So she’s finally succeeded in turning you into a complete and certified wanker?’

‘Do you want my help or not?’

‘I want dinner.’

Finn laughed. ‘Okay, you want to cook, or ’gram?’

Kelly stood up and stared at him, deadpan. ‘For the second time tonight, I’m banning a word. Don’t ever say “’gram” to me again.’

Finn held up the phone. ‘Smile!’

Kelly laughed.

‘Perfect,’ Finn said. ‘Casual but presentable. Cool but not out of reach.’

Kelly grabbed the phone from his hand. The photo was good. She looked happy – another demonstration of the evil manip-u-lation of social media. The most anxious, stressed and breakdown-ready student in her cohort looked happy. What a joke.

Finn subscribed to one of those meal-delivery services, so Kelly checked the instructions and gathered all the contents on the kitchen bench.

She was an ordinary cook, so the step-by-step instructions required her full attention.

As she cooked, she was vaguely aware of Finn moving around the apartment, walking and staring at her phone, muttering words, jotting notes on a piece of paper.

She was disproportionately proud when she served up plates of turmeric fish with rice noodles and herbs that actually looked pretty close to the picture on the recipe card.

Finn barely glanced at his meal when she placed it in front of him. He cut through the fish and shovelled it into his mouth while talking to her. ‘I’ve written a few ideas down. Nothing too fancy. Best to keep your first post simple.’

Kelly cut up her fish with more decorum than her dinner partner and felt another thrill of pride when she discovered it tasted delicious. She read Finn’s first suggestion out loud through a mouthful. ‘“Thanks for all your support, guys! Quick meal and then it’s back to study!”’

Finn was staring at her like a puppy that had just fetched its stick and brought it back to its owner.

‘Have you thought about giving up acting and becoming an author?’ Kelly said.

Finn grunted. ‘It’s not as easy as it looks.’

‘No, I imagine writing something that naff would require a great deal of skill.’

Finn waved his fork at her. ‘It’s social media, Kel. It’s supposed to be naff.’

She read the other four suggestions but refrained from any further criticism. Finn’s mouth was just slightly turned down and he only did that when his feelings were hurt. Bloody men. So sensitive to the tiniest bit of criticism.

She knew Finn was only trying to help. And he was an expert at this stuff – he had something like three hundred thousand followers and Kelly knew he posted regularly from the stories he told her about his activity. She only ever half-listened. It was inane nonsense, after all.

A smiled formed on her own lips. ‘All right, Shakespeare. Let’s post the first message.’

Finn chewed slowly and deliberately. When he was done, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. ‘Apology accepted. I forgive you.’

‘I didn’t apologise.’

‘You never do.’

Kelly handed him her phone. ‘Because I’m never in the wrong.’

He shook his head as he typed. ‘Just as bloody difficult as you were when you were eleven years old.’

‘Since I was born, Finn.’

He handed her the phone. ‘There, done.’

Kelly looked at the photo and the caption and the hashtags Finn had added without her permission. ‘“Hashtag doctoring”?’

‘Naff is the name of the game.’

The phone bleeped a notification. And then another.

And another. And another, until the app eventually gave up bleeping and just displayed the number of interactions on the post. It climbed quickly through the hundreds and into the thousands before Kelly could even place it down on the table.

She leaned away like it was a poisonous snake as the numbers continued to soar.

Finn puffed out his cheeks. ‘Impressive doctoring, Kel. Looks like you’re more naff than you realised.’

***

Kelly pulled the door closed, heard the telltale snip and double checked the handle to make sure it was locked.

It didn’t budge. Finn was locked safely inside his apartment.

She turned absentmindedly towards the lift, her mind still reeling at the notion that she had somehow become a social media influencer.

She felt the other woman before realising she was there. Ran straight into her, actually – bounced off her.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Kelly said automatically.

She regained her composure, took a step backwards and appraised the woman she’d crashed into but who hadn’t moved an inch.

She stood there, this other woman, like an Egyptian Queen as her people bowed down before her majesty.

She was taller than Kelly by at least half a foot and looked down on her with almond-shaped eyes full of curiosity.

Her winged eye makeup lent her expression an air of mockery and her high cheekbones accentuated her regal bearing.

Even in the artificial light of the corridor, her skin was flawless – an almost indescribable shade of caramel.

And her body … No wonder Kelly bounced straight off her with breasts like those.

She wore a pure black, spaghetti strap dress that completely defied the laws of physics with its cloth to weight–bearing ratio.

It plunged deep at her bust, revealing a smattering of freckles across her chest, before it hugged her hard, flat stomach and fell to the floor, split all the way to her thigh on one side to reveal a powerful, almost visibly muscled leg.

Kelly stared in wonder, sheer wonder, that anybody in real life could be so breathtakingly beautiful.

Although she was clearly older than this young woman, Kelly felt like a tiny, underdeveloped, anaemic child. Pale and weak and juvenile.

‘Hi,’ the woman said. Her voice was jarringly friendly, even a touch naive, perhaps. And her smile was so disarming, Kelly didn’t know whether she wanted to be her mother, lover or best friend. She had an inexplicable desire to want to protect this woman and possess her at the same time.

‘Hi.’

‘I’m Ashley. We’ve met once before. You’re Kelly, right?’

Kelly nodded and spoke in a rush to cover her embarrassment. ‘Yes, yes, of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t recognise you with clothes on.’

Ashley laughed.

Kelly shook her head and facepalmed. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—’

‘You meant I usually get around in gym gear.’

Kelly took the out. ‘Exactly.’

‘Well, I’m going to a fashion show tonight, so I thought I’d better at least try to look half decent.’

‘Trust me, honey, you look better than half decent.’ Fuck, what was she doing? Kelly sounded like a besotted schoolboy.

Ashley laughed. ‘I hope Finn thinks so. I’m actually kind of ambushing him. He’s brushed me off a couple of times but I’m not giving up that easily. I’m going to pretend my date cancelled to make it like he’s doing me a favour. Appeal to his chivalrous side.’

Kelly was sure Ashley had read that in a magazine. Or on a blog. Or on Instagram. Who knew? But it was clearly some sort of dating advice direct from a lobotomised baboon.

Ashley’s eyes flew wide. She pointed from Kelly to Finn’s door and back to Kelly. ‘Wait, you and Finn. You’re not …’

‘No, no, we’re just friends.’ As Kelly spoke, a deep and unexpected melancholy began to spread inside her.

Ashley puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. ‘Oh, phew. I remember Finn saying you were just friends as well, but you never know, right?’

The melancholy became heavier, more pervasive. ‘You never know,’ Kelly repeated.

‘Are you okay? You look sad.’

What a thing to say! You look sad . They didn’t even know each other! ‘I’m fine,’ Kelly said. ‘Have fun tonight.’

She scurried away from Ashley. When she pressed the lift button, the doors opened immediately. She entered, pressed the button for the ground floor and turned to wait for the doors to close.

Finn’s door opened. Kelly stood on her tiptoes to see his face over Ashley’s shoulder. He was momentarily stunned at the sight of her. He flicked his gaze towards Kelly. She held her breath, but he looked back to Ashley with eyes full of desire.

The lift doors closed.