AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And Harley wants to really make something of it all.
Harley and her long-term video art installation as she puts it. Or The Rise and Fall of an Internet Sensation. She wants to deconstruct the fame I have, the fame I don’t deserve. All because a few people find me attractive.
Funny. Like my suggestions.
The internet is a wild place.
“The project.” I sigh.
She pouts. “Don’t you want to do it anymore?”
“I don’t know. I just feel… fake.”
“You’re not fake. It’s just the fame part and how so many let it get to them.” Then she starts to giggle. “It’s also about the loot.”
Reluctantly, I start to laugh, too. “The loot is good.”
She flops down on the bed, on her back. “He’s still hot.”
“Smith?” I try and keep the incredulous note from my voice. “He’s a man who doesn’t have the balls to even admit he’s my father.”
She rolls over to look at me. “Do you think there’s a reason for it?”
“Yeah, it’s because he’s a prick. How the hell did you find him, anyway?”
Harley grins. “Stole Dad’s phone and texted him.” Then her grin melts away. “I actually think he does care?—”
“I don’t want to talk about Smith.”
I don’t want to think about any of what happened.
Not a word from Jaxson. Nothing. I didn’t expect it, so I don’t get why the disappointment carves deep grooves inside of me.
We do some little posts because those are fun and silly, hawking old teddy bears that are still in my room.
“I’m betting you, Dakota, that last video will get a ton of hits.”
“You’re crazy. They won’t at all.”
I almost tell her to delete them, but these are the first ones we’ve recorded since I’ve been back, and Jaxson never told me not to post.
I’m not living a life in fear of perverted people with too much money.
“I’m brilliant,” Harley says, grinning.
She jumps up and scrounges around in a bag she’s marked Loot!
“Here.” She tosses me a small black box that looks like some makeup palette. “It’s new. It’s supposed to be the kind of face stuff that makes you look filtered. You’ll be transformed.”
“Into what?”
Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “They didn’t say.”
I open it and shrug. “The colors are pretty. Hey, do you have any meetings with that creepy Trent Eddington?”
She doesn’t like the art gallery owner who sells and shows my stuff. We usually have meetings when I’ve got new art pieces coming out.
Which I do.
