Page 11 of Not My Fault

Emily leaves and I head back inside to clean up the shop. It’s getting late, and I want to get home before the rain starts tonight. Emily surprised me—she isn’t some stuck up pop star, she’s really kind and thoughtful. It surprised me when she hugged me, but in a good way. I know it will be a while before I see her again, but I’ll be playing her music on the train ride home. I texted Cari earlier, but she still hasn’t replied. She’s probably too busy with Max to check her phone. I’m sure I’ll get a text in a few days asking to see me, so until then, I just have to be patient.

Locking up the shop, I put on my headphones and turn on Emily’s newest album. I grab my stupid non-MetroCard and head for the subway. I’ll be home in twenty-two minutes as long as the train wasn’t late. And the rain is set to start in thirty. I head down the stairs, through the turnstile, and check the screen for the latest updates. It’s all black, which isn’t uncommon. New York has a habit of putting up new screens and fixtures only for them to not work three months later and never get fixed again. It’s a waste. I’m about to check my phone for the train time when I hear it coming. Two bright lights in a sea of darkness, the loudrumble and the vibration of the ground all at once. The train stops, I get on and take a seat along the side of the car. It’s empty for this time of night, so I can relax.

It isn’t something I think about often, but I don’t like worrying about someone giving me a hard time on the train. Sometimes a transphobic person will think I’m trans and harass me for that, or other times I get people asking what I am. Both are rooted in ignorance, but it doesn’t hurt any less. I make it home scot-free and head straight for bed. Well, I check on the cats first and give them cuddles before we all go to bed.

Before plugging in my phone, I pull up the tattoo shop’s Instagram and upload Emily’s tattoo. She said we could post it and tag her public account, which will help the shop grow. So I make sure to refer to her as LULY in the post and press upload before going to bed. I put my phone on the charger and fall asleep.

In the morning, I’m woken up to the sound of my phone alarm going off. Nine-thirty a.m. on my non-work days. Sparks meows at me, and after I stop to pee, I get them their breakfast. Returning to my room, I check my phone and my eyes snap open when I see hundreds of notifications. Most of them are from Instagram but a lot of them are also texts.

RIVER: I knew you had game but damn

RAE: WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US?!

ISLA: DON’T YOU LOVE US?! JK, but good job bro

I’m so confused, I’m about to ask what the hell they’re talking about when my best friend, Kenzie, texts me.

KENZIE: You’re dating a lesbian icon, and this is how I have to find out?!

Attached to the text is a photo of a tabloid post that has a photo of Emily and I hugging outside the shop last night. I didn’t even know there was paparazzi around, let alone that they caught us. But it isn’t what it looks like. It was a friendly hug. Why was everyone freaking out about that? The headline says, LESBIAN SINGER CAUGHT HUGGING NEW BAE? Did people still use the word bae? Maybe they were trying to make sure not to mess up my pronouns. I keep reading.

Lesbian singer, LULY, was caught hugging unnamed partner outside local NYC tattoo shop, RARE's Tattoos. It is unknown if this is a new relationship or has been going on for a while. The couple seemed to be embracing before parting ways on the dark spring night.

Is this what passes for gossip these days? People are ready to believe anything they read, apparently, including my friends.

I text back the group chat with River, Rae, and Isla first.

ME: There is no tea, it was a friendly goodbye hug. She left her phone behind, I brought it to her, and she thanked me.

RIVER: We might have a little problem…

River attached a photo of all the DMs in the tattoo shop’s account. Most of them wanted to be tattooed at the sameplace Emily was, or to be tattooed by me. A lot of them were referring to me as the ‘hot’ tattoo artist. I wasn’t complaining about that, but I can’t believe all this came from one little misunderstanding. I guess it doesn’t help that Emily reposted about her being tattooed by me last night. I have her number and could text her, but in case this hasn’t reached her yet, I don’t want it to be weird.

RAE: Can only say that I’m jealous

ISLA: Me too

ME: This is too much, I literally just hugged the woman. Nothing happened!

Then I text Kenzie back.

ME: There’s more than meets the eye. I tattooed her yes, and we hugged, but that’s all that happened.

KENZIE: I believe you, but only because you don’t lie to me. However, the public won’t believe it.

Sighing, I start to get ready for work. Between picking out clothes and taking a shower, I have to put my phone on silent because it keeps going off, and I can’t keep checking it. I’m not one to enjoy the limelight. Like, I’m not opposed to it for the right reasons, but this all feels like a big misunderstanding. I get dressed, put a touch of gel in my hair, and head out for the day.

Even though I know it’s crazy, I feel like people are watching me on the train. Like they recognize me and are trying to place where I’m from. Maybe it’s in my head, but I swear I feel eyes on me. By the time I get to the studio, it’s crowded outside, and I have to squeeze through a crowd to let myself in. A few people cheer when they see me, and my eyes widen as I head inside.

“What the hell’s going on?” I say to River, noticing a tall security guard-looking man standing inside the doorway.

“This is one of Emily’s bodyguards,” River starts.

“She’s in your office and wants to talk to you,” Rae squeals.

“Okay…” I hesitate before heading for my office. I didn’t think to stop for coffee today with everything going on, and I feel like I was going to need some caffeine for this.

“Hey,” I say cautiously, opening the door.

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