Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
I had to look away. This was sickening. This invasion of privacy equaled a stab with a butcher knife straight through the chest. I looked to Rex, whose eyes were glued on the screen, his head slowly shaking back and forth.
“No, no, don’t watch. You don’t have to watch.” I tried reaching for the phone, my instincts shouting at me to do something. He snatched the phone away, staring, fixated on what was happening on the screen.
“Rex, please.”
“I’m done. It’s over. It’s out.”
“You aren’t done. Don’t ever think that. This is fucked-up, dark, and completely fucking unfair. Whoever taped this and leaked it deserves to rot in jail.”
“I—Jesus. Everyone’s going to see this, see me. And look at me. Look at how big I look.”
“Rex, stop that right now.” I tried turning his face so he looked in my eyes, but he kept staring down at his phone. “Rex, listen to me. You are literally fucking perfect. Everything about you. Your smile, your eyes, your laugh, your humor, your pride, and yes, your weight. Everything is perfect. I wouldn’t change a single thing, and I don’t think anyone in their right mind would disagree with me. You can’t be the only one to hate yourself. It doesn’t do any good. Trust me.”
Please, please listen to what I’m saying.
I watched his face, tried to see if my words landed. All I could see was the reflection of the timeline he scrolled through on his phone.
“It’s already trending. The video’s already fucking trending.” Rex continued to scroll, and I really started to get scared. My words didn’t land. I could visibly see him shaking. This looked like a spiral. Like a car hydroplaning into a spike-filled ditch, no stopping it.
“Fuck. Fuck!” Rex slapped his hand against the steering wheel. Once, twice. Three slams. Four.
“Fuck!”
“Rex, calm down—Rex, listen to my voice. It’s okay.” I held on to his forearm, stopping him from hitting the wheel anymore.
“I thought it was done. After the tape wasn’t released with the last deadline I’d gotten. I started to even forget about it for a few seconds, but fuck, that’d be the longest I hadn’t thought about that tape since it fucking started. And now—fuck!”
He threw the car in drive and went forward the few feet back into the parking spot, braking hard. He snatched out the keys and got out of the car, slamming the door shut, leaving me in the weirdly silent car.
Fuck.
22
Rex Madison
My world fell apart the second I hit Play on the video. The image was clear, the sound as well. There I was, my body center in the camera, the New York skyline behind me, appearing like a set of eyes blinking with malice. Watching me the same way thousands would be watching me right now.
I left Benji behind and went straight for the guesthouse. My vision tunneled inward. Mia said something that didn’t quite register, and nothing Benji was saying behind me landed. All I could think of was that’s it. This is the day the guillotine dropped.
I went straight for the bathroom, dropped to my knees, and threw up. As if that would purge my body of the dread and doom that pushed at the very fibers of my being.
On the bathroom floor, my phone continued to play the video on a loop. It was short, relatively speaking, cutting off right before I noticed the camera and launched it against a wall.
I picked it up, and instead of turning it off, I watched. I sat on the bathroom floor and watched myself. Like morbidly watching a burning car wreck, my eyes glued themselves to the screen. Even though my hand shook, the image remained clear.
There I was. Naked, bare, violated.
And fuck… I looked huge. It made me somehow feel worse. I didn’t think it’d be possible to feel any worse, but I managed. My stomach turned into a pit of pure despair. I couldn’t take my eyes off the video, playing on a loop.
Even when my eyes filled with tears. When the screen blurred as if I was looking through dirty glasses. It didn’t matter. I could still the see the shape of me, feeding the shame that gnawed at my insides. How? How would I ever move on from this?
I managed to exit the video, only to get slammed with hot takes from random strangers online, sharing the video as if they had all the right in the world to. I read a few comments but couldn’t keep scrolling. None of these people knew me. They didn’t know the circumstances behind this tape, and no one seemed to care. They just reveled in the drama and the takedowns. Not all the comments were bad, but that didn’t matter. One hateful tweet outweighed a dozen kind ones, every single fucking time.
Nothing mattered.