“So what now? We have the Innovative Media subscriber lists. What do we do with them?”
I reached into my bag that was splayed open on the floor and pulled out the thumb drive Gary had slipped to me the day before. I thought briefly about a porn virus taking over my work computer, but I jammed it into the side of the computer anyway.
While Monica talked, I waited for the files to open. I wondered if they’d be searchable.
“Well, things are evolving even as we speak. Innovative Media has moved into a space far, far bigger than LessThan. And there is still time to stop them. This will be the new focus of my piece. We are rapidly tweaking the angle and we want to use real bullies in the piece. We want to expose Innovative Media before they become even bigger than they already have become. There is a movement within Innovative Media for some other strategic app takeovers.”
“Something worse than LessThan?” Tears for Corelle stained my cheeks.
Why?
How?
An hourglass twirled on my screen while the drive fought to be readable by my computer.
“Innovative Media needs more than LessThan. Its appeal has already waned somewhat and they are focused on the next big thing.”
“What?”
“It’s more of a question of how, rather than what.”
“I’m not following.” I cleared my throat and tried to set aside my grief for Corelle while I waited for the file on my computer to open.
“They’ve started a pyramid scheme of sorts. They’ve already beta tested it and it seems to be out in the world already. They have an app used to issue trophies, buttons, words of the day, memes of the day, exclusive GIFS. And then, because it’s linked to LessThan and Innovative Media, it has enough PR juice to get kids to sign up. To the tune of millions. To the tune of tens of millions, actually.
“After IM connects enough teens to their app, they create a new app that pulls those millions to a new product. They keep making the former product obsolete. Each app is like a gateway to more sophisticated apps. The earlier versions reward their followers with freebies and virtual goodies that can eventually only be used in the new versions of the app. Four and five levels in, the apps range anywhere from $10 to $100.
“Why would anyone pay that kind of money for virtual trophies?”
“Membership is considered a privilege—a status symbol, and those who can’t afford it are shamed mercilessly online.”
I was gobsmacked. “Why are people doing it? Spending that kind of money on a digital app?”
“Why did we spend money on cigarettes? On the latest trend of the day? Why do today’s parents spend money on college admissions experts? On Porsches?”
I shook my head. Was this all part of the same spectrum as a useless app?
Monica certainly seemed to think so. “They are buying belonging. Buying membership into an elite, exclusive community.”
“How exclusive can it be if everyone belongs to it?”
“Right. Exclusivity is the great lie that draws them in like moths to a flame. Once everyone belongs, the community no longer becomes exclusive; all the current users are mocked as irrelevant, and a new app pops on the market under the IM umbrella. Everyone wants it. The stakes get higher. The cost gets higher.”
“When the cost gets higher, does the club become smaller?”
“Only temporarily. The peer pressure seems to feed the thing. Eventually it becomes wider and wider until its community resembles something like 50 million as well. And then the cycle begins anew. Like I said, it’s still in beta—but this is the model and it’s working with beta testers. And we have learned that some of the kids are being rewarded with $100 ‘refund’ checks to their accounts sporadically throughout the year—to select VIP members.”
“This is insane. There’s no way this could be a viable unchecked thing in this day and age.”
“Oh, I assure you, an ever growing billion-dollar a year industry would disagree with you.”
“Even with the era of helicopter parents watching over their little precocious tots like hawks? How are they not stopping this?”
“Stopping it? They’re feeding it. Where are the teenagers getting their money? From mom and dad—mostly with permission. There is nothing that tugs at a parent’s heartstrings more than a teenager who isn’t fitting in with the crowd. The parents are buying them apps for Christmas, birthday, Hanukkah, and bar mitzvah presents. This is as harmless as candy crush in their eyes until Johnny is asking for membership to a $100-a-month digital app that he believes—and now mom and dad are starting to believe as well—defines his very worth.
“There are reports of taxable withdrawals being taken from 529 funds and parents incurring whopping tax penalties just to fund the app pyramid. And it’s only in beta right now.”
“Come on. This is a lie. You’re a liar.”
“Really, Aby? Think about it. These are moms and dads whose glory days are long over. Who remember all too well what it was like to be the least popular kid in high school—or worse—to be the most popular one day, only to have it taken all away the very next day. This app scheme is fed by an insecure generation raising the next insecure generation. And frankly, Aby, there are some powerful people who don’t mind a new source of federal tax revenue that seems to be happening with very little whistleblower attention.”
“Holy hell. This is starting to sound bigger than me. Bigger than all of us. I’m going to have to talk to Jude about this. I don’t want to keep this from him.”
“Well there’s a brand new twist that’s developed since we first spoke, Aby. Here’s the problem now. IM—they are courting Out The Bullies. Out The Bullies is working on some new app development outside the Out The Bullies forum, and IM wants to buy it from them. A merger of sorts.”
“Well that’s crazy. How could Out The Bullies be thinking of selling out like that?” I didn’t trust the defensiveness creeping into my voice.
“It’s business, Aby. Out The Bullies is a business and they want to stay in business.”
“Well, I am going to—we are going to have nothing to do with them from here on out. I knew it was all too confusing. Don’t call me again. I’m done playing games with you, Monica.”
I took a second too long to hit the disconnect button. Or maybe I knew exactly what was coming next.
“Aby, Out the Bullies has been openly supporting Jude Birch. Out The Bullies is thinking about selling out to a company that is going down spectacularly in my exposé. So you could see how this could make Jude look.”
I saw the room spin. I thought about my seemingly innocent coffee meeting with Laila. The one I did on his behalf. And now I’d unwittingly gotten him mixed in with this mess.
The file on my computer screen finally opened. Sheet after sheet appeared at the bottom of my screen, dated with month ranges going back a year. I went back to the first one—to the earliest subscribers available and typed in one word, Donny.
The result popped up quickly. Field A: IAmDonny; Field B: Kylie Rutter
I gasped so loudly, Monica asked, “You ok? What’s going on, Aby?”
I toggled out of the subscriber list and googled Kylie Rutter. She had a daughter, Deirdre Rutter, who was a senior at Corelle’s school.
The one Corelle had attended.
Kylie Rutter was more than owned by Innovative Media. She was a paying customer. Likely buying status for her daughter, who had probably killed Corelle with meanness.
Did Laila know about Kylie Rutter’s daughter? Did she know any of this? Did she trick me into getting mired in this mess? I gripped my hands. Was Laila working for Out The Bullies? Maybe lining up a little gig for herself after the election was over? A very lucrative one for a company that Jude would now be beholden to if he actually won this thing?
I opened and closed my grip on the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. I wanted to wring Laila’s neck. And then I wanted to wring my own.
And who were these people who would do anything t
o survive high school?
I knew exactly who they were.
And I wanted Jude to defeat them.
“Where should we meet? I want to bring you this thumb drive as soon as possible,” I managed to whisper through tears.
The Washington Truth, dated July 15, 2018
Excerpt from the Op Ed piece, by Nate Essuzare
…For the last several years, we’ve seen a growing backlash against an entire generation of parents known as “helicopter parents.”
This generation of parents who “hover” protectively over their offspring, lining up college admissions counselors in elementary school, handing out little league participation trophies to the entire team, while simultaneously investing in sports camps for junior and little miss, with costs rivaling the family car, have been under fire from far too many of us in the media for too long.
I’d argue it’s time to celebrate—and not dismiss—the helicopter parent.
After all, these are the parents we wanted as children. While our parents were climbing corporate ladders, rebelling from their post-War, middle class ancestors, we were inhaling second-hand smoke, eating lead paint, and getting sunburns. We were clamoring for attention, and coming up short.
Who are we to judge the new generation of parents giving their kids exactly what we always wanted?
Chapter 20
Monica mentioned a coffee shop in Adams Morgan and I agreed it sounded inconspicuous enough.
“How will I know you?” I asked.
“The old fashioned way. I’ll introduce myself to you.”
I arrived early and ordered a matcha green tea. An attractive woman about my age was standing in line behind me and I wondered if that was Monica. She looked at me blankly as I stared back at her perhaps a little too often.
Monica in fact turned out to be a plain-looking woman considerably older than me. She walked in and approached me as I was sipping matcha.
“Aby. It’s a pleasure, finally. Monica.”
She was efficient with her words, and sat down across from me without ordering anything. I reached into my bag for the thumb drive, and handed it to her.
“I still don’t understand how this whole thing is going to work.”
Monica leaned in and whispered.
“Ok. Here’s the thing. This thumb drive is even more valuable than we once thought. It contains subscriber lists to both IM and Out The Bullies.”
I felt had. My mouth went dry, and large drops of sweat slid down my armpits. I thought about grabbing back the drive, but Monica had already dropped it into her oversized bag.
I hadn’t really known what I was looking at. I hadn’t looked for anything but Donny.
“Innovative Media is now courting Out The Bullies. IM is hoping for a giant merger that will drive business away from all other social media. But these two companies have already taken a large portion of the market share of new social media apps, as these subscriber lists prove.” Monica tapped her bag containing the evidence.
“If Innovative Media succeeds, it could create a monopoly and accomplish more in the next year than Mark Zuckerberg accomplished in the last decade. In creating their monopoly, they will drive up prices astronomically. They will have made money on the insecurities of teens, to the tune of billions.”
“Wait. Aren’t monopolies illegal? I feel like I learned this in a high school economics class once.”
“Yes and no. You have to prove it first. Remember when everyone said no one would let two giant satellite radio companies merge?”
“XM and Sirius?”
“Yep, they used to be the only two satellite companies on the block, and they got the Department of Justice to agree they could still merge because of other competition in the market from free radio and other radio apps. Innovative Media and Out The Bullies are going to make the same argument, but the truth is they do have a monopoly in this space, and they are hoping the Department of Justice turns a blind eye to this.”
“Department of Justice?”
I felt a sinking feeling, and wished I still had that thumb drive in my possession.
“Yes, that’s who makes these decisions.”
“I guess a litigator from the DOJ’s D.C. U.S. Attorney’s Office would be quite a valuable point of contact for IM and Out The Bullies, yes?” I felt pure dread.
Monica nodded slowly.
“And clearly, Innovative Media is looking for some support from the man who’s made himself a name on the biggest internet litigation of this decade?”
“I think that’s fair to say.”
“Jude will never go for it. He’ll press for litigation. He’ll never support IM.”
“Well, I think that’s why they are so hot to acquire Out The Bullies as opposed to another competitor. Previously, IM never really gave Out The Bullies the credit they deserved. That’s how Out The Bullies was able to function under the radar for so long and grow their company.”
“So, what made IM interested in them?”
“Well, frankly, Aby, the fact that they supported Jude in this election. And that he didn’t shun their support. I think that has established them as a real player in this game. At least as far as IM is concerned.”
I looked up at the ceiling. I’d done this. I’d been played, and I had to accept it. The question was: by whom exactly? Laila? Out The Bullies? Monica? All of the above?
“And there’s more.”
Of course there was.
“IM’s new model is to recruit new members to the app. You get credits paid in badges; but now, for certain members, money is showing up in their accounts, and because their accounts have to be linked to an automatic debit app called PayUp, they are able to access the money instantaneously. It’s literally becoming a windfall for those members who recruit new members.”
“You mean, it’s become an actual pyramid scheme? App users are getting lured with real money, now?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Why is no one reporting it?”
“No one can prove it. It’s only happening to a select number of teenagers and they are recruiting like mad. New members buy the app for $2.99, but they are secretly promised a windfall later on if they sign on and recruit new members. No one will talk about it online in social media. Only in the newest IM beta app.”
“Well, how did you find out about it?”
“The Watchdog Group—you met one of them at 2319—is helping us.”
Monica read my expression. “Aby you’re on the right side here. They are the good guys. So you’ve done a good thing.”
“Dear God. What is really going on here? Monica, it’s time you come clean.” I could hear the panic in my own voice. I thought about Gary who seemed a little erratic in the house, insulted that I wasn’t more impressed with his espionage skills, and then following me and rapping on the window crazily before giving me the thumb drive. I remembered his warning about all the competing agendas at issue here.
“Oh, I assure you this is legit and completely on the up and up. The Watchdog Group uncovered the largest pyramid scheme in the country last year. A so-called health food company selling caffeine pills masked as herbs to teenagers too broken to resist. They had become the biggest drug dealer in the United States in just a couple of years. Watchdog outed them and now they’ve moved on to IM and Out The Bullies.”
“Couldn’t Watchdog be a brand new tech company trying to get rid of their biggest competition? I think we have to be a little skeptical about this. We can’t take their word for it. In the meantime, if teenagers are being taken advantage of, there are actual channels we can go through. We don’t have to wait around for some competing tech company posing as a watchdog group to gather up so-called evidence.”
“I don’t think you understand. IM is working with very influential people. How do you think they even got funding or access to this type of information—this type of technology? They couldn’t have done it without help at the top. They have friends as
far up as the White House.”
“The President? Come on. This sounds crazy. Like some kind of conspiracy theory. Two shooters. The government planned 9/11. You’re not one of those reporters are you?”
“I’m simply interested in the truth, Aby. And I know you are, too.”
Every time I thought Monica knew me, understood me, she went and said something that contradicted that.
“Monica, if that’s even your name,” I took a defensive dig unnecessarily, “that’s what police stations are for. I’m done being the voice of righteousness for the world.”
“Let’s just say, Aby, that IM has very powerful friends. And if you think you can waltz into a D.C. police station and ask them to stop investigating their current homicide investigation for this so-called emergency, you’re being pretty naïve.”
“Well can’t we report them? Like, I don’t know, to the Better Business Bureau? Or the FTC? Or whoever is in charge of this sort of thing?”
“Absolutely—and we have. We’ve filed all the paperwork we could. All the right agencies say they will look into it. But in the meantime, real damage is being done. Right now, IM looks to be as harmless as Snapchat—rewarding users with trophies and hearts and virtual badges. But we know an increasing number of those users are getting monetary deposits marked only as “refund” directly to their PayUp accounts. We are even trying to ascertain whether PayUp is complicit in all this. We have documentation from four parents who, as part of a local activist group, set up accounts pretending to be teenagers, and received PayUp payments.”
“Four? Out of millions? This doesn’t sound very convincing. If this conspiracy is so far reaching, why aren’t more people coming forward?”
“Why aren’t more teenagers coming forward to say they’ve gotten windfalls of payments made to their PayUp accounts so we can stop it from happening? Is that really what you’re asking, Aby?”
Why We Lie Page 16