Chapter 43 Lee

Lee

Lee had been ignoring her phone, rolling back and forth in Regan’s bed, unable to sleep. When she picked up her device, she saw that Francine had called six times…and proceeded to call again as Lee stared at the screen. “Hello?” said Lee, her voice hoarse.

“Lee! I’m glad you answered. These photos are something.”

“What photos?”

“From…Villa Mercedes? You, in a nightgown, looking absolutely—”

Lee sat up, head pounding. Fragments of the night before came back to her—the cemetery, the fence, the club.

The glorious feeling that everything made sense, and was snapping effortlessly into place.

Lee put Francine on speaker and opened Instagram.

There she was inside Villa Mercedes in a ripped nightgown, eyes bright with mania.

The comments ranged from concern to mockery to artistic appreciation.

Raw and beautiful

This is what real pain looks like

Lee Perkins serving GLAM even in crisis

Mental health awareness queen

She was viral again. Not for her talent, not for her work, but for her public disintegration, packaged and consumed as entertainment.

“Lee?” said Francine. “Are you there? Are you there, Lee?”

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