Page 8 of Fangirl
Me: I don’t appreciate you questioning my intelligence. I wasn’t eventhat mean. I genuinely asked if anyone knew whether his acting range went beyond what we’ve seen on-screen.
Okay, in retrospect, it’s a leading question that implies he has the emotional range of celery, but I didn’t actually say it.
Me: You fans should be a little less sensitive.
For good measure.
His reply comes almost instantly.
Mod002: Less sensitive? That’s rich coming from someone using “AnlonDeservesBetter” as a username.
I suck in a breath, my cheeks burning.
Oh, that lands.
Mod002 is looking for war.
I crack my knuckles again, gearing up for battle, when I see the three dots bouncing on the screen, another message incoming.
Mod002: Full disclosure: I’m not a fan. I couldn’t care less about Jake Hollander or his roles. I’m a paid mod.
I narrow my eyes at the screen, unsure if that makes things better or worse.
Me: Obviously not a very good one if you let the threats go on for that long before closing the thread. I’ve got hundreds of hateful emails to delete.
Mod002: Consider this a lesson in internet warfare.
I blink.
A lesson?
Me: Oh, so you did me a favor by letting them rip me apart?
Mod002: Please. I shut it down before it got too bad. You’ll survive.
Me: Right. Because death threats are just mild inconveniences.
Mod002: If I reported every overdramatic stan in this forum, I’d be out of a job.
Damn. That one is cocky. He has to be a man.
I mutter at the screen, my fingers twitching to type back.
Then I glance at my now-empty coffee cup.
Nope.I do not have enough caffeine in my system for this.
I stand up and head for the coffee machine, scratching Pea behind his ear as the cup starts to fill.
The warm, soothing aroma of robusta permeates the room, grounding me.
I huff out a small laugh. “That boy is an ass… but it’s entertaining.”
I enjoy bantering through the screen.
If this happened in real life?
I’d stammer an apology and walk away, cursing myself for not putting my foot down.
