Chapter 5 Miranda
Chapter five
Miranda
NOW
Shoshanna and Lauren sent the story of my “relationship” with Leo to an independent entertainment journalist they trusted. By early afternoon, pictures of me and Leo, along with our names, basic information, and a rough timeline of our involvement, were in the public sphere.
I made my account accessible to Lauren so she could help keep track of comments, grateful I’d never expanded to other platforms. We hid some comments that came in on the first day and turned off the ability to add new ones to older posts. It wasn’t a total scrub, but it made the trolls’ job harder.
Together, we crafted a statement that I posted alongside a carousel of ten pictures of Leo and me.
“You know me as @theadventurousmiranda, but my given name is Miranda Davis. I’m outing my identity because I feel the need to defend my friend, Stone Caseman.
I met Stone by chance during a trip I took with some friends last fall.
At the time, his videos were just starting to take off.
I’m not interested in being a more well-known public figure (hence why this is the first time I’ve put my name on this page), so I asked him to make sure I didn’t appear in his videos or on his socials.
While I value Stone’s friendship, the main man in my life is Leo Wymack.
Leo and I met two years ago. Technically, we’re family since his brother is married to my sister, even though we live in different states.
Our relationship has been mostly long-distance, like my friendship with Stone, but it is quite serious.
I’m asking my followers, other commenters, and members of the media to please stop insinuating that I am anything other than Stone’s friend.
I wish the best for him and Naomi. Thank you for reading, and I hope you will excuse me while I return to my life as a person with no desire to be in the public eye. *heart emoji*”
The good thing about the statement was that it was worded to be somewhat true. I had met Stone camping near Laguna Beach, and I had requested we keep our relationship private from the beginning. And since meeting, we’d spent significantly more time apart than together.
Leo looked over my shoulder as I posted it.
“Can I veto that picture of me in the car?” he complained. “I have, like, twelve chins.”
I tittered. “You’re not usually self-conscious.”
“I’m golden until eight chins.”
“Shoshanna thought it would be a good one to use because it’s so candid.”
He spread his arms wide. “Oh, well then. Pardon me. I suppose if the wise and all-knowing Shoshanna said it…”
“Stop being difficult.”
In the picture, Leo slept in the back seat of his truck.
I remembered the day. During one of our long drives, we pulled over at a rest area.
I’d reclined the front passenger seat and leaned back so the frame captured both of us.
With my head practically in his lap, I held the camera above us, making a peace sign and duck face while Leo dozed in the background.
I understood why the PR team thought it was a good choice to prove our closeness.
It certainly looked intimate. But Leo made a fair point that he’d been sleeping in a funny position, and multiple chins could be counted.
“I suppose it’s fine,” he grunted.
“The one of us at Marley and James’s wedding counterbalances it,” I argued. “You always look amazing in a suit.”
He blushed—just a little. “Thank you.” Picking up his phone, he sat down next to me on the couch. “I have an account, but I don’t post on it. I only use it to follow people. Do I need to?”
“I talked to Lauren about that. She said no. If anyone asks, we’ll just say you’re not on social media. With your obscure handle and profile pic, no one would guess it’s you following me.”
Leo’s profile picture was the fruit-bowl-apocalypse painting in his hallway.
“Out of curiosity, what do you plan to say if anyone asks about the Hawaii picture?”
“The idea is to not address it directly. I’m not going to answer any questions.
No need for me to linger as part of the story.
We want to keep reminding people that Stone and Naomi are the famous ones here.
If Stone gets asked, he’s supposed to just say we were in Hawaii at the same time and watched the sunset together.
Basically, say as little as possible and hope that all the other stuff makes his holding me look less sus.
My feed during that time is shots of me body surfing and hiking in the jungle, so it’s easy enough to make the argument that it wasn’t some romantic watch-the-sunset trip. ”
“It’s not a perfect plan, but I think you’re right. It’ll fade.”
“Definitely not perfect. But probably easier to manage than trying to pretend the people in the picture aren’t us, or that someone manipulated the photo.”
“It’s crazy how we can’t trust pictures anymore.”
“No idea what you’re talking about, Leo-Bear. Sabrina Carpenter definitely has six fingers on her left hand and wanted to be the face of the cannabis shop on the corner.”
Chuckling, he opened the app on his phone to confirm that my statement popped up on his feed. “Is Stone going to repost this?”
“Hopefully, he won’t have to. He’s releasing his own version, essentially confirming what I say here.”
Leo rubbed his thighs. “So what do we do now?”
“Lauren will monitor the responses. She suggested I stay off the internet for at least a day, and I think that’s good advice. Until this blows over, Shoshanna wants us to be seen together as often as possible. Now that the public is watching, we should go places and hopefully get noticed.”
“I’m assuming that means you want to go out tonight?”
I nodded. “I’m in town until Sunday afternoon. Since you’re doing me the favor, you can decide what we do. As long as it’s somewhere people might see us.”
“Great. Because I have an idea.”
My cheeks lifted. “That was fast.”
“Because it’s obvious. Early birthday celebration for you.”
I startled. I’d practically forgotten my twenty-seventh birthday was on Monday. But of course Leo remembered. He grinned, and I wondered what he had up his sleeve.
Whatever it was, I didn’t care. He’d already given me the greatest birthday gift by sharing this burden with me.
“What should I wear?” I asked.
His expression brightened. “You know Seattle embraces the full hoodie-to-tuxedo range of acceptable attire pretty much anyplace. And you look beautiful no matter what. Just put on whatever you’d normally wear on a date.”
“Date, huh? Really committing to the role?”
“I’m really trying to.”
20 MONTHS AGO - MARCH
Leo was visiting Los Angeles during the break between school quarters.
It would be the first time I’d seen him in person since New Year’s.
My apartment didn’t have a second bedroom, but I’d bought a pull-out couch for the living room and some cozy blankets so he could stay with me.
He’d offered to get a hotel, but with our time already limited, I wanted to spend as much of it together as possible.
Over the past three months, I’d tucked away bits of intel about what Leo liked.
I’d stocked the pantry with spicy wasabi peas and Hawaiian coffee.
There were extra-large towels in the bathroom.
A basket of paperbacks I’d finished that I knew he’d enjoy sat on the coffee table.
He could take those back to his apartment.
We’d texted every day, and video called once or twice a week. Sometimes our conversations were ridiculous, with stupid GIFs or me complaining about my classes. Other times, they felt like therapy.
For a long while, I’d been toying with the idea of being more insistent that the true me wasn’t the outdoorsy, thrill-seeking person my friends assumed I was. Even if it upset them or changed their opinion of me. Verbalizing my frustration about that to Leo over Christmas had intensified the urge.
As I slipped cases on the new pillows I’d bought for the sofa bed, I realized how much I was looking forward to being the Miranda only Leo knew for the next few days. Adventurous Miranda could sit the heck down for a minute.
In fairness, it was my fault I’d fallen into the habit of hiding my authentic self.
When I arrived at college my freshman year, I immediately fell in with a friend group of exuberant, kind-hearted students who viewed Southern California as a playground for all things active.
I went with it, telling myself I’d purposely chosen a college far from home to face new challenges and make discoveries.
And what was more challenging than being around folks who spoke casually about the hedonistic joys of zip-lining through clouds or conquering class 5 rapids?
Excited to be so readily adopted into a tribe, I didn’t put a lot of thought into whether it was the right fit. Instead, I leaned into that identity.
To the rest of the student body, our group was fun and chill—“hippies” and “granolas.” We were the good-vibe people who got invited to every party, but offended no one when we didn’t show up. It was easy.
It helped that my mom and sisters seemed proud.
They’d been worried I’d use my newfound freedom and distance from home to experiment with more nefarious activities, so my stories about running a Halloween 5k in a vampire costume or falling off a surfboard fifteen times before finally being able to stand amused them.
I reveled in their approval, in being seen as strong and capable, and not just the happy baby of the family.