by India Lee
So as the high school boys taunted her, Amanda would flip through a People Magazine and politely decline Gail’s pep talks. Running to an adult for sympathy would just make her look like a dork – though she couldn’t help liking Gail when one day, she taunted the two boys right back. Since they’d dubbed Amanda “Third Wheel,” Gail dubbed them “Training Wheels” – the two sidekicks who would get left behind once Jake grew out of them.
The nickname proved prophetic by the next year at MHS. Jake and Megan became a couple and the Training Wheels were cut from the varsity football team. Amanda remained Megan’s best friend and stayed up on the phone with her past 12AM every night, listening to all the stories and romantic details of her first relationship.
“I can’t wait till you have a real boyfriend!” Megan would gush.
“If or when that happens,” Amanda always said. Her five-week “relationship” with Jake’s quiet cousin, Phil, was supposed to be her chance. But the set-up was mismatched from the start – forced for the sole purpose of double dates – and Phil was always too mesmerized by Megan to say a single word anyway.
“You will find a boy one day, Mandy,” Megan promised. “And when you do, we’ll have so much fun together.”
She was right about that, Amanda realized as she chomped down on a doughnut, sitting at the same counter she’d always sat at in middle school. I did find a boy. And she had a lot of fun with him.
~
Upon waking up the next morning, Amanda went straight for her laptop. It was just part of the routine, though this time, it was with a little more urgency. By bedtime last night, she still hadn’t received an email back from Liam Brody’s imposter. As fake as she knew it was, she was still eagerly waiting to see what kind of response the troll had conjured up. Like the long threads of comments between arguing HDUers, his emails were like a form of entertainment to her. It was sadly what she had to wake up for.
She scanned her full inbox for the exchange. Got it. Amanda bit back her curling lips. She found her own excitement embarrassing. Apparently her life was so deprived of variety that an email from a heckling stranger was enough to provide a buzz. But any break from monotony was welcome, and at least this one would make for a good story to tell. My first celebrity encounter, Amanda snorted. After all, it was unlikely that liambrody85 would ever confess to being a fake, so she could always hold onto the zero-point-five percent chance that she was conversing with an actual celebrity, albeit one that she loathed. She would never know for sure that it was or wasn’t real.
Or so she thought.
Attached to the latest email was a video file. Amanda blinked, frozen with surprise. The screencap was blank, giving her no preview of what lay ahead. Her mouse hovered over the play button as she tried to compose herself and suppress curiosity. It’s a virus, you idiot. You’ll lose everything. Don’t click on it.
She clicked on it.
“Hey PrettyKitty.”
A low voice spoke before any picture appeared on screen, but soon enough, the black frame flickered into the image of a New York Yankees cap. As the blurriness cleared, Amanda realized that the cap was sitting atop a man’s head, his head tilted downward so that it obstructed his face. Amanda rolled her eyes, but just as she had concluded that she’d in fact been had, the capped head looked up at the camera.
“Let’s do this again. Hi, I’m Liam Brody.”
Amanda’s heart stopped – or so she thought. She gasped so hard that cold air ripped through her chest. There he was – the real Liam Brody with his messy brown hair, thick eyebrows, perfect nose and rude smirk. His famously dark eyes laughed at her as he paused his speech, seeming to let her take him in for a moment. For a split second, she was flashed back to watching his first starring role in a romantic comedy at the local AMC with Megan. That was when Megan first fell in love.
“Before I say anything, I’ll start with the obvious. If you post this video to your website, I won’t care,” he said, smug. “But then of course, my offer will be off the table.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching casually as if he made video bribe offers all the time. When he returned to his posture, he sighed. “Alright, here’s the story, Pretty.”
Amanda blushed. She then covered her own cheeks, embarrassed by herself yet again. Only FilmFreak shortened her username to just “Pretty,” and it was fine when he did because it was his lazy Internet-speak. But hearing the word come out of Liam Brody’s mouth made her momentarily giddy. She couldn’t even help it. Guess he’s a good actor after all.
“I’m not sure if you’ve heard of an upcoming movie called A Soldier,” Liam said, scratching his chin. He seemed to be growing out some facial hair, as if he needed to look manlier. After that thought passed, Amanda realized that she had in fact heard of A Soldier because her favorite actor in the world, Dylan Hardy, had been briefly up for the role. “It’s an incredible script about John Parker Camden, a Pararescue jumper in Iraq. Based on a true story, too. He was from Nebraska – the model soldier, husband, father. An absolute hero,” Liam said. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought and his eyes drifted elsewhere. Look at me, I’m so thoughtful and forlorn, Amanda narrowed her own eyes at the screen. Mm-hm. Definitely a good actor.
“You might’ve guessed at this point that I’m in the process of auditioning for this role – against some pretty heavy competition. But I know I’m the only one who can do the part justice, and it’s not just because I’ve dreamt of working with Terrence Rambis since I was a kid watching Bouncing Betty – which was his first ever war movie, in case it sounds to you like a porno or something.”
It did. A snort escaped Amanda’s lips, forcing her own hand to fly to her mouth. She silenced herself, not about to let his act entertain or fool her. Playing likeable was his job, and he was a charmer by nature. It was the only reason women continued falling for him despite his dating history. Amanda straightened her face and studied his facial mannerisms before he continued speaking. His eyes drifted elsewhere again and he gave a short, laughing smile.
“Me and my older brother Logan swore we’d join the Air Force together after watching that movie. We were eight and ten back then, but he actually went through with it,” Liam said. As he did, Amanda Googled “Logan Brody air force.” The results she found echoed the words that Liam spoke. “Pararescue training has a ninety percent washout rate but Logan made it through. And since then, he and his units have saved so many lives in Iraq and Afghanistan that it’s sometimes hard to comprehend. The admiration I have for him is something I can only hope I’ll inspire in someone at some point. Maybe my kid, if I have one. In the future. Who knows.” Liam cleared his throat. “That’s why it would mean so much for me to land this role because aside from working with a legend, I’d be honoring two amazing men – John Parker Camden and my brother, Logan.”
Amanda blinked at the screen. For a moment, she had forgotten where she was and why she was hearing the story. It was surreal to remind herself that it was being told solely for her.
“But getting back to the point, Pretty,” Liam looked directly into the camera, making Amanda want to lower her eyes. “It’s hard to get a second audition for such a dignified role when America knows you best as a…” he clicked around his computer for a bit and squinted, reading off of his screen. “A ‘womanizing douchelord.’”
Amanda snorted loudly. She had been the first one to peg him as such on HDU, and for some reason, “womanizing douchelord” just caught on with users. It became his official nickname, and he their mascot of misogyny.
“And finally, to explain why you didn’t receive an email from my publicist – it’s because she was against this idea. She’s by the books, but I’m going behind her back for the first time because I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than I want this role, and I’ll do anything for the things that I want.” Liam bit his lip back for a split second before adopting his demeanor of confidence once again. He smiled, another smirk this time. “So, let me know, Pretty, if that explanation
suffices.”
Abruptly, the video ended. Only then did Amanda hear her heart pounding. Had it been the whole time? Probably. She had just had her first celebrity encounter, and it was nothing she could have ever imagined – and she often did a great deal of imagining what her first celebrity encounter would be like. Though in her fantasies, it was with the sweet and adorable Dylan Hardy, not the sleazy and manipulative Liam Brody. More than anything now, Amanda found Liam manipulative.
She had been so ready to post his video directly to HDU, to singlehandedly bring down his image as she had already been doing. But then he started speaking. Acting. His moves were so clever, so deft. Those humble smiles, the thoughtful gazing. The story about his brother and Bouncing Betty. She would be doing him the biggest PR favor in the world if she posted his video to HDU, and he knew it considering the smirk he had allowed himself towards the end of the message. He knew what a winning performance he had just given, and so did Amanda. She also knew her users. Most would be easily swayed by the seeming image of a bad boy gone good for his country. She wasn’t going to let that happen. He would have to pay her for that kind of publicity.
But of course, he was offering to and she simply couldn’t accept it. Moderating HDU was all she had anymore, and while she had only been in contact with the people that owned HDU via email, she felt loyal and obliged to them. Once upon a time, she had been just an obsessive user of the site with far too much time on her hands, until her devoted Internet stalking was rewarded with an actual job by the owners who needed a new and inexpensive moderator. At the age of nineteen, she was controlling the public images of stars by what she allowed or didn’t allow onto the site. It was beyond thrilling to know that people – even celebrities, whether they admitted it or not – were tuning into HDU from all parts of the world. And all because of the posts she put up in Merit, Missouri. The power she had made the $200 a month paycheck worth it. It was better than the $150 she started with. By her third year, she had been granted a raise because of her status as by far the post popular moderator on HDU, liked best for strangely enough, being nice. Perhaps that was why users put so much trust in her hatred of Liam Brody – he was the one person she loathed, so it had to be for good reason.
After several minutes of groaning and swearing and calling downstairs to her mother that she was fine, really just fine, Amanda began to compose a response in her head. With her jaw clenched tight, she started typing.
Mr. Brody,
If you don’t land the role of John Parker Camden, please take comfort in the solid performance you just gave me in your video, which would be Oscar-worthy were it something that I was willing to share with the world.
Alas, it isn’t. Sorry to disappoint – I could tell that you threw some extra charm in there just in case you ended up on HDU. Unfortunately, they’ll never see this video and I still won’t censor the types of stories I post about you, so your project was in vain. If it’s any comfort, I doubt Terrence Rambis would care about your public image as a womanizing douchelord if you were actually a good actor who was right for the part. Maybe you just don’t strike anyone as a small town family man, and maybe it has nothing to do with the fact that you date six swimsuit models at the same time. Maybe it’s just you.
If you’re really hell-bent on reversing your image, perhaps you should you just pluck out a plain Jane from some grocery store and make her your wife. The uglier, the better.
Best,
PK
It was necessary to remove herself from the house after sending her last response to Liam Brody, even if it meant going out in public and seeing neighbors. If she didn’t, she would do nothing but sit on her bed with her laptop, staring at her inbox and refreshing it over and over and over. It wasn’t a routine too different from her usual, but on this particular day, she would be doing it with an urgency that would probably give her a brain aneurysm or something.
She was too distracted to care about the fact that she’d unconsciously driven to L.J’s Diner. As she sat alone in a booth, mindlessly chowing down on a slinger, she thought about Liam. The worst she could do to him was to continue posting stories of his infidelities. But he was still an A-List celebrity, despite his reputation as a complete and utter asshole. There was little more damage Amanda could do, and she found that disheartening. The fact that she couldn’t destroy Liam Brody actually upset her.
“Who raised you?”
It was a good question. Her parents certainly didn’t bring her up to be so hateful. Only as Amanda contemplated the answer did she realize that the inquiry had come from an actual voice, not one inside her head. She snapped her head up.
“Oh, hello, Mrs. Mueller,” she said politely, expertly hiding her dread. Tandy Mueller was the friendliest and rudest person that Amanda knew. She was Merit’s chattiest neighbor, an impressive title considering the stiff competition.
“Darling, I know your mother did better than to raise a child who comes into L.J’s of all places and ignores everybody trying to say ‘hello!’” Tandy’s manic smile no doubt hid her true disapproval of Amanda’s behavior. “We just about fell off our chairs when you walked in, Mandy!” She reached out and played with a lock of Amanda’s auburn hair before stroking her cheek. Amanda tried not to recoil. “Sweetheart, how on Earth are we supposed to hear stories about your adventures in St. Louis when you’ve got yourself holed up in that house every day? You can’t possibly expect us to get them from Megan. That gorgeous girl’s got a life to live!”
And I don’t? Amanda frowned. Her shoulders slumped as she answered her own question. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy… writing,” she answered. It wasn’t entirely false. She did add commentary to each of her posts on HDU, and that counted, didn’t it?
Tandy cooed. “Oh honey, good for you keeping yourself busy. Better to be active than idle when you don’t have a job.” As if that weren’t enough, she added, “Not everyone can be a cheerleader for the Rams! ”
Amanda dug her nails into the seat of her booth and forced a nod of agreement, trying not to glare as she looked up at Tandy, at her terrifying cornflower eyes and the spider lashes that framed them to look even more manic than her lipstick-adorned smile. She, as a middle-aged mother, had always been strangely obsessed with Megan’s life, as early as Megan’s first year in middle school. She practically idolized her. It was strange and pathetic and irritating that a grown woman could be so childish, but it wasn’t as if she was the only one.
“Have you been watching the Rams?” she asked, herding her young sons over and seating them across from Amanda in her booth. They kicked at her legs from under the table. “We watch all the time at our house so we can see Megan on the sidelines. I have to pause the game whenever I see that pretty face and just think, ‘I used to drive this little girl home from school when her mom had to work late, and now she’s a star on TV,’” Tandy recalled with breathless amazement. “And it looks like she got taller! Did she get taller?”
“I didn’t notice,” Amanda said, breaking the yolks on her fried eggs with a jab of her fork. “Maybe she grew a few inches since I moved away.” She never bothered sounding logical around Tandy. She just said whatever qualified as conversation, hoping it would be sufficient enough to be soon left alone.
“Well, I bet she could model now because – oh, oh!” Tandy yelped so loud that the diners who weren’t already looking turned over. “I remember what I wanted to ask you about.” Her pudgy fingers curled around her lips like an excited schoolgirl. “Your mother told me that you had found yourself a boy over in St. Louis!”
Please, no. Amanda grit her teeth. That was the last thing she wanted to talk to Tandy Mueller about.
“And if you somehow managed to find yourself a boy, that Megan must’ve found herself a man!”
Amanda swallowed hard. Actually, that was the last thing she wanted to talk to Tandy Mueller about. She averted her gaze and quickly signaled to her waitress for the check.
“Well? Did she or did she not?�
� Tandy persisted, poking Amanda’s cheek with her finger. Amanda swatted her hand away hard, making a loud smack sound that prompted more than a few gasps.
“She found herself a boy,” Amanda answered tartly, standing on her feet and pushing past Tandy. “Mine.”
~
Amanda’s cheeks burned red as she tried to start her car in the parking lot. Through the windshield, she could see every face in the diner staring out the windows at her. She had literally shoved past Tandy Mueller and marched out of the chiming doors, hot tears brimming in her eyes because she was quickly regretting her decision. Within fifteen minutes, the entire town would have heard about her outburst, solidifying her status as Merit’s newest nutcase, their latest recluse who would die alone with forty cats. She would replace old Ada Bayliss as the punch line of every joke, and the town would start speculating about her probable meth and pill addiction. There would be rumors about her on the town Internet forum within the hour. With a single agitated gesture, she’d hit Merit’s rock bottom.
But she couldn’t help storming out. She couldn’t take any more of Tandy Mueller or her gossip minions. They as adults had loved picking on her since she was in middle school. She was their easy target – Megan’s quiet but sarcastic sidekick who alienated older people with her odd humor while Megan won them over with a bat of her lashes and a lilt of the voice.
That was how she got Brandt, Amanda thought, hiccupping as she recalled the way her first real boyfriend used to look at Megan. She had never thought to worry then, too convinced that his love for her outweighed his lust for Megan. And she figured it wasn’t a big deal – in high school, she had gotten used to her one boyfriend’s wandering eyes around Megan. It wasn’t as if anything ever happened. It was impossible – she would’ve known immediately in such a small town.