Lost

1

Seth

The stream of images on social media is growing and I can’t look away. There I am, sweaty, under-dressed and looking like crap after seven gruelling hours of practice. Most of the comments are of people trying to figure out if it’s really me. I’m lucky that the image isn’t of very high quality, that makes denying that it is me in it a lot easier.

I check the time, I should really go to sleep. It’s four in the morning and we’ve got an interview at noon. But Florian isn’t here yet and I don’t really want to go to sleep without him. It feels weird and kind of silly, especially after yesterday. I know he said he’d be here in a few hours, but I hate waiting.

A knocking on my door makes me look up. “Yes?”

Liam opens the door, holding out his phone. “Did you see this yet?” He shows me an email. “You’ve also got one in your inbox.”

I quickly scan the email, it’s from our manager demanding to see us all in the morning and urging us to not reply to any questions on social media. “Great.”

“Yeah. You do realise this could ruin everything for us, right?” Liam shakes his head. “How can you be so irresponsible?”

“Me? You’re now gonna blame me instead of the homophobic management or the creep who posted the image online? Way to go.” I close my laptop and stand up. “I think it’s time for you to go to your own room. I’m already exhausted thinking about all the lies I’ll have to tell when I wake up.” I smile at him, but there is no cheer or warmth in it.

“Don’t try to blame your own stupidity on others. Take responsibility.” Liam turns around and stalks back out of my room.

Take responsibility, how easy to say for him… I took responsibility when I took the brand for him. Right now, I need to be responsible and think about my own health, my own future.

I check my phone, it’s full of messages, just none from Florian.

I slide under the blankets and pull my laptop on my lap, checking the social media stream again. This is strangely addictive, in a self-destructive kind of way.