Bad Date

by Ellery Lloyd

She has always said that fame is the price she’s prepared to pay for doing what she loves, but her son doesn’t owe the world shit.

A no will always turn into a yes if you only persist—that’s what my mother always said.

They really should teach kids more in school about online safety, make them aware that any old weirdo could be out there, talking to them.

Poor Fay too—from the court papers, Danny Stone sounds like a violent psychopath. She really can’t pick them, can she?

They don’t stop when you ask them to, when 32you tell them she’s scared. That she’s not eating, not sleeping. That she’s scared for her son’s life. They don’t stop when lawyers send letters. They don’t stop when the police tell them to.

They’re never subtle, these guys. Not very bright either, most of them. Some even use their own names, or at least reuse the same fake name across accounts—podcast reviews, social media, one-star fake vet reviews. Online Mortal Kombat. That’s how I identified Oliver Sharpe.

I wonder if this is the weekend she confesses who she really is. I’ve been practising my surprised face in the mirror.

And then they leave, and she falls apart. You’ll do the same. But I’ll break you before you get the chance to break her.”