I can almost hear Killian’s monotone voice as he says that, and my stomach flips, but I exit the screenshot and continue scrolling through Nikolai’s account.
In the last picture he posted, Nikolai is grabbing a struggling Gareth and a bored-looking Killian in chokeholds.
Stuck with these motherfuckers for life. Not that I’m complaining…okay, maybe a little.
I tap on the tag section, my finger trembling as I click onkillian.carson.
My heart nearly leaps out of my throat when I find the Follow Back button.
Just when the hell did he follow me?
Though he did mention that he saw myInception-inspired painting and my stories earlier.
I run back to my notifications and find he liked a lot of my pictures. I scroll down and down, and holy hell, the crazy bastard liked all five hundred pictures I posted on Instagram.
Every single one.
An hour ago.
Isn’t that around the time I came back to the flat? Does that mean he didn’t continue his plan or am I just looking for excuses?
I return to his profile.
If I expected him to have about the same following as Nikolai, I’m terribly mistaken—it’s way more. Like two hundred thousand more.
Of course the prick is popular. No surprise there.
His profile’s description is:Med student. Lover of fine things.
Killian’s account is less chaotic than Nikolai’s. In fact, it’s aesthetically pleasing with warm colors and a lot of positive energy. Parties. Med students’ gatherings. Friends. Family. People.
Lots and lots of people and faces and smiles and life.
It’s the perfect façade for his rotten insides.
He’s either smiling or laughing or smirking in pictures. Some are taken in exotic places, others are on filthy-rich properties. Not only does his family have money, but he likes to show it, too.
The more I scroll, the surer I am that Killian is the male version of the social butterfly that’s taken over Ava and Annika, but without their sincerity.
Killian is flat out mimicking the youth’s obsession with social media and he’s doing it way better than they do since charisma comes naturally to him.
But I know that each of his smiles is undeniably fake.
As I go through his profile, I can tell why people would be so attracted to him. There are a lot of beautiful men around, but there are only a handful with his level of easygoing attractiveness. He doesn’t have to try to attract people’s attention like a magnet.
They flock to him like a moth to a flame without knowing they’ll burn if they get too close.
Or if he sets his sights on them.
I click on a family picture in which an elegantly dressed woman, whom I assume is his mother, sits on a high-back baroque chair. Her expression is of a badass queen as she holds the hand of a man that rests on her shoulder. Her husband—considering his resemblance to both Gareth and Killian—stands right behind her wearing a smirk. Both Gareth’s and Killian’s faces, however, are full of horror.
I scroll sideways for another picture in which she’s laughing, her husband’s expression is solemn, and Gareth appears relieved. Killian is throwing his head back in laughter.
Unlike the other picture, this laugh doesn’t seem completely fake. It’s not genuine either—just right in the middle.
My attention slides to the caption.
The difference between ‘Maybe I’ll give you boys a little sister, after all’ and ‘Just kidding, look at your faces.’