The camera shutter is a annoying sound. Click. Click. Click.
"Chin down, Lucrecia. Give me 'look.' Give me 'i am the most gorgeous women ,'" the photographer, some guy named Marcus, barked from behind his lens.
I did exactly what he wanted. I tilted my head, let my eyelids heavy-up, and looked at the camera. It's a talent, really. To look that interested while your feet are screaming in six-inch stilettos and your scalp feels like it's being ripped off by three pounds of synthetic blonde extensions. My "sweet and caring" persona—the one that earned me my first five million followers—was tucked away for the day. This shoot was for a high-end jewelry line, and they wanted the "Narcissist"
By the time I escaped the studio, the sun
was sinking, turning the city into a hazy, smog-filled gold. I climbed into the back of the car, my movements stiff. I reached up and started yanking the pins out of my hair, hissing as they caught on my natural tangles. I rubbed my face with a makeup wipe, smearing five layers of foundation into a muddy mess.
God, I was exhausted. Actually more than that I wanted to die my bones felt stiff and were hurting alot
I checked my phone. The notifications werent stopping any time soon "Queen." "Literal Goddess." "How is she even real?" I scrolled past them, my thumb hovering. I was looking for him . I didn't want to admit it, but my eyes were scanning for that specific handle: fox16unknown.
I'd blocked him two days ago. I'd finally had enough of the "obsessive" DMs. But it was almost as if I had gotten addicted to him i wasn't even able to sleep without thinking of him.
The elevator ride up to my penthouse was silent. I leaned my forehead against the cool mirrored glass, staring at my reflection. My blue eyes looked bloodshot. My skin looked pale under the harsh LED lights. I looked like ugly maybe i was ugly afterall.
When the doors dinged on my floor , I stepped out, my keys in my hand. I reached for the handle, but I didn't even have to turn the key.
The door was already open.
A cold shock shot from the base of my spine to my skull. I stoppe and stood there in the hallway, clutching my bag tightly. I started trying to find an explanation so i wouldnt have to face the terrifying one. Maybe the maid forgot to click it shut? Maybe its the wind? There is no wind in the building Lucrecia I thought to myself.
I pushed the door open. My apartment was dark, except for the glow of the city lights pouring through the windows. Everything looked perfect. Until it didn the air felt... heavy almost suffocating.
Then I saw something.
On the kitchen island, sat a black box. It wasn't there this morning. I walked toward it, my legs shaking. I wanted to turn around and run, but there's this sick curiosity that comes with being a narcissist. You can't stand not knowing what someone thinks of you.
I opened the box a big mistake.
The smell hit me it smelled like blood
I stared down at the red velvet lining, which was soaked in a dark goey liquid. Nestled in the center was a tarnished silver necklace. A little fox charm. The left ear was chipped—I'd done that myself when I was young. throwing it in a fit of rage because the other kids called me a "orphan"
I hadn't seen this necklace in over a decade. I'd lost it the day I left the orphanage.
I felt nausea seeing it.I reached in, my fingers getting stained with the dark liquid as I pulled out a small, cream-colored note tucked underneath. The handwriting was neat and chillingly familiar.
Unblock me, Little Fox. I don't like being ignored. This is the last time I am forgiving you for trying to abandon me.
— fox16unknown
the "Little Fox" part made me let out a scream.Nobody knew that nickname. Nobody. Not even my manager, not even my "friends." It was a secret i buried with him.
I dropped the box on the floor. grabbed my keys and bolted.
I didn't wait for the elevator to arrive; I took the stairs, nearly twisting my ankle on every landing. I stumbled into the parking garage, and tried to start my car. While driving i tried to convince myself it wasnt true that he wasnt true, checking the rearview mirror every three seconds, convinced I'd see a pair of headlights following me.
By the time I reached Ciara's place, I was sobbing. I pounded on her door until she opened it, looking confused and half-asleep her short black hair tossed her black eyes full of sleep.
"Lu? Its like 2 am.. What the hell happened to your hands?" she asked, her eyes widening as she saw the dark stains on my fingers.
"He was in there," I choked out, collapsing onto her entryway bench. "He was in my house, Ciara. He left... he left the necklace."
Ciara went white. She grabbed a towel and started wiping the blood off my hands. "That's it. We're going to the police. I don't care if you dont wanna go but this is serious. This guy is a psycho. You need a psychiatrist, Lu. This isnt healthy"
I sat on her sofa, wrapped in a blanket that she gave me. As Ciara paced, talking about restraining orders and security details, my mind went back to the beginning of the dms.
Four years ago
I was nineteen. I'd just aged out of the system with nothing but a suitcase i wanted to be soneone people admired.I started posting. Little videos on internet trying hard to be someone...something.
And there he was. fox16unknown.
He was my first real fan.He noticed the smallest things. "I love how you rub your noise when you're nervous." "your hair looks longer" and what not
And god, I loved it.
I know it sounds pathetic now, but back then, I was a girl who had never been anyone's favorite. I'd spent my whole life being the "extra" kid. To have this anonymous person treat me like I was the sun—it was intoxicating. I looked forward to his comments. I'd refresh my feed just to see if he'd seen my latest post. I'd heart his DMs. I even started talking to him.
I'd fed the fire. I'd invited him in because my ego was bigger than my common sense. I loved being the center of his world because I wasn't the center of my own.
But then, the "sweetness" turned into somethig revolting.
By the time I hit my first million followers, he started getting possessive. He'd DM me photos of myself from across the street. He'd tell me he didn't like the guys I was hanging out with. He'd tell me he knew I was a narcissist, that I only cared about the fame, but that he was the only one who loved the "real" me sometimes he would say things i was too scared to acknowledge.
And now, he'd proven it. He wasn't some random creep who found me on the Discover page. He was actually a secret i tried bury in past he was the nightmare that refused to leave.
" I think he is back" I say timidly to Ciara looking down at my now clean hands
All color drained from her face as she yelled " No..no..no that cant happen we all buried him years ago...it cant be"