She tossed the phone onto a cushion. Love you. Did her manager love her, or love the 12% commission? Did her 8.4 million followers love her, or love the outrage when she wore the wrong thing, said the wrong thing, ate a carb?
She wrote one more thing: If no one was watching, would I still do any of this? lacey jayne interrogating her ass
Her phone buzzed. Trending at #3. “Lacey Jayne real tears.” Stay offline. Love you. She tossed the phone onto a cushion
She stayed there until the city dimmed, then picked up her phone again. Not to post. Not to check her mentions. She opened a private note, one she’d never synced to the cloud, and typed: Did her 8
The silence answered.
Lacey Jayne leaned back into the velvet curve of her chaise lounge, a half-empty glass of sparkling water sweating in her hand. The floor-to-ceiling windows of her downtown loft framed a city that glittered like a consolation prize. Outside, millions of lives hustled past without a glance at her penthouse. Inside, a perfect, curated silence.