Page 71 of Wicked Temptations
@Josh4evergod the TENSION between these two
@yaassdaddySimon can hunt me anytime
@thirsttrap2000RIP #TheHunters but honestly #Simash hits different
@simashforeverforget jude this is the pairing we deserve
I locked my phone and tossed it face down on the table. That last one sat in my gut like spoiled food, and I’d had to go out of my way not to look at their profile image. If I knew what they looked like, then I’d risk recognizing them in the pack, andthenI’d have to fight myself not to deck them for their audacity.
Simon didn’t give a shit about any of it. He’d seen the posts, laughed them off with easy confidence I couldn’t imagine having. When someone showed him a particularly explicit comment during costume change, he’d just grinned and said Amanda would get a kick out of it. Like the whole thing was a joke that didn’t touch him because he was so secure in who he was and who he belonged with.
I picked the phone back up, unlocked it and kept scrolling because apparently I hated myself.
More posts. More GIFs. More people losing their minds over something that didn’t mean anything. There were so many dark romance comparisons, and I’d seen myself edited into almost every song Bad Omens had ever released. I didn’t love those, but they were my favorites. Those videos typically featured Jude.
But then I’d hit the other side of the discourse. The backlash.
@crowdaddy_foreverThis is bullshit I paid to see JUDE
@itsapizzawhere are the refunds? false advertising much
@smishsmash#Simash shippers are so disrespectful. Jude literally got INJURED and you’re celebrating his replacement?
@44trucks44some of us actually care about the original Hunters dynamic but go off I guess
@hateithereYou thirsty bitches need to go back to your shitty toxic porn books.
The comments spiraled into arguments. People defending Simon, people attacking the complainers, people demanding their money back, people calling those people entitled. There was a whole goddamn war waging over something none of the participants actually understood or had any right having an opinion on. It was frustrating, and I’d never wanted to become a keyboard warrior so much in my life.
I pushed the urge back and kept scrolling until I found Jude’s account.
My stomach lurched.
Active thirty seconds ago.
He was online. Right now. Watching this same shitshow unfold in real time.
I clicked through to his profile. He hadn’t posted anything new, but he’d liked a few comments. All of them were supportive messages wishing him a quick recovery or saying they missed seeing him perform. Sweet stuff. The kind of thing that probably felt like a lifeline when you were stuck at home watching someone else take your place.
I stared at the screen until my vision blurred. My finger hovered over the message button, but what the hell was I supposed to say that I hadn’t already tried? He’d read everything I’d sent and responded to exactly none of it.
The door swung open, and Riley rolled in. She looked like she’d had a rough night, and she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and dropped into the chair across from me without asking.
“Kids, man,” she sighed, and I felt her obvious relief in my bones. We were all on our feet constantly, for hours on end, butat least most of us had good, supportive shoes. I had no clue how she managed to skate around all night; she had to have leg muscles of steel.
“You would think,” she went on, spitting the words out like venom. “That parents wouldn’t bring their screaming little crotch goblins to an after-dark horror show. But noooo. Let’s bring the brats and then complain that they’re going to have nightmares because they tried to wreck my set, so I had to chase them to teach them a fucking lesson.”
I tried not to laugh. Riley’s hatred of kids was legendary. Clearly, she had no intention of being a mother anytime soon. I can’t say I blamed her.
“I swear to fucking god,” she muttered, taking a deep gulp of water. Her crazy eyes flashed as she looked around the room, and honestly, age be damned; sometimes I was afraid she’d givemenightmares. “Simon still on the phone with Amanda?”
“Yeah.”
“How could they possibly have so much to talk about? He called her last break.”
She wasn’t wrong, and I’d wondered the same thing countless times since getting to know Simon.
I shrugged my response and scrolled through more of my feed. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to her, but I—well, didn’t really want to talk to her right now. I was too busy wallowing in online shit.
