I’ve been trying to find more pics of these three online. Not a lot to go on yet. Definitely sus.
Sulli clicks her phone, and the screen goes black.
“You alright?” I ask as she tosses her phone and looks up at me from my lap.
“I’m used to being Sulli the hairy ogre. Sulli the Sasquatch. I didn’t think I’d ever be Sulli the Slut, and it’s fucking trending, Banks.”
I stop tinkering with the radio, pain in my chest. The need to go apeshit on the internet has never fully crashed into me until now. “People who want to fling around slut and whore as insults are just shitbags. Useless, wasteless, not worth your time or a fucking dime.”
She presses her fingers to her eyes. “Fuck, I know. I shouldn’t care what the public thinks. I want to not care.”
I’m right there with her. “For what it’s worth, it enrages the hell out of me too.”
Sulli pulls back her hands. “Really?” She searches my cold gaze. The frost isn’t directed at her.
“A bunch of trolls are calling my girlfriend a slut—yeah, I want to crawl through the phone screen and have more than words with them.”
She sits up a little to better look at me. “It feels good knowing I’m not the only angry one.”
“You’re not alone,” I breathe. “I think we all have some kind of fire in us.”
Sulli stares off in contemplation. “Strong for loving and strong when ticked off?”
I bob my head. For a moment, I consider popping open my Twitter account. Mainly inactive. But the desire to defend Sulli is at an all-time fucking high.
“Kits has been pretty composed, though.”
I widen my eyes at Sulli like that couldn’t be further from the fucking truth. “He threw a pillow at the wall last night when you were taking a shower.”
Sulli snorts into a smile. “For real?”
“Yeah, and he made a ‘growly’ noise and screamed into said pillow.”
Her smile fades. “He’s upset that paparazzi will be more intense.”
“He’s upset that his girlfriend is the target,” I tell her. “I think like you, he’s more used to the Sasquatch comments and virginity speculation than the shit you’re receiving now.”
Sulli shifts to face me more. Knees bent, she picks at her frayed ankle bracelet. “I hate that the world is debating my love life like I’m some character in a mystery movie and they’re trying to solve the fucking case.”
She shouldn’t go on Reddit then. The “Calloway Sisters” subreddit is alive with fervor right now over the leak. Akara told me to do a deep dive to flag any threatening posts.
Nothing too dangerous so far. Just…overwhelming curiosity.
“People always want more than you’ll ever give them.” I hold her gaze. “It’s a true cost of fame.”
Over the years, I’ve seen how Xander would close off and shut down, and no matter how much he retreated, fans who love him still grasp at anything they can see, anything he can give.
A new haircut.
A growth spurt.
How he spreads cream cheese on a bagel.
It’s hard to picture myself walking into a similar showdown. I can’t imagine a world where people would fawn or obsess over me the way they’ve done Xander. Which is why I believe there’s still hope the three of us come out of this unscathed.
Sulli scoots closer, until she’s up next to me, relaxed against the wooden headboard. “This is a new phase of my life…and I wouldn’t want to experience it without you or Akara. It hurts even picturing being in this room alone. Going through this alone.” She slips me a small smile. “I guess I just want to be in the company of a bunch of knucklefucks like me.” She uses my words from the Carnival Fundraiser.
I curve my arm around her shoulders, lips lifting. “You’ve come to the right place. I’m definitely of knucklefuck stock.”
She takes my hand that hangs over her chest and presses a kiss to my knuckles.
Warmth bathes me, and the brewing ire towards online pests is drowned out for a moment.
The bedroom door slowly opens.
Akara has been showering down the hall, so I’m not surprised to see him. Towel around his waist, he shuts and locks the door.
Sulli lets out a wolf whistle.
Akara mockingly bows. “My lady.” He makes a face at me. “What’s with the old radio?”
“I misplaced my good one.”
His face flatlines. “You mean you lost your good one.”
“Still haven’t lost my mind.” I open up Twitter.
“Frack, Banks, that’s not reassuring…” He trails off. “Don’t post on Twitter.” He must see the screen from afar. That Cellphone Whisperer.
Sulli peers over at my social media. “You were going to post?”
“Maybe.” I have a staring contest with my boss. “Come on, just one tweet.”
“What are you going to stay? Eat dung and die?”
“No, that’s what you want to say.”
Akara rolls his eyes and lets out a heavy breath. I’m not wrong here. He pushes back his wet hair. “Remember, I told Donnelly to suspend his own Twitter account after he kept getting into fights with Farrow-haters. Even if I want to, I personally can’t do what I reprimanded one of my men for, and I can’t play favorites with you, Banks.”