Chapter 33
33
May
Something is wrong.
Engagement is sagging. I want to blame it on the algorithm, but I’m not sure if that’s true.
A growing portion of my audience says that I don’t feel like Chloe anymore. That something about me has changed. That my vibe is different. That I’m less authentic. That they’re unsubscribing.
It’s fucking bullshit. If only they could see how hard I work behind the scenes to keep up the facade, all the hours I’ve spent watching Chloe’s old videos to replicate her mannerisms. It’s not easy emulating a boring lifestyle vlogger with a vanilla personality and a permanent smile. Yet all people do is complain, complain, complain.
At first, I could ignore these comments, shrug them off as trolls.
But then Fiona sends me a link to a video this morning: Have you seen this?
It’s a YouTube video made by Samantha, an ex-fan. The Dirty Truth About Chloe Van Huusen. It’s an hour and ten minutes long.
Samantha has 1.2K followers. The video has been up for five days and its only garnered a meager 10K views. But the reach isn’t what bothers me. It’s the content.
The video starts with Samantha telling pleasant stories of how she used to be my biggest fan, buying all my collabs and attending my meet and greets at VidCon. But what follows is a forty-minute psychotic manifesto detailing how I’ve changed in the past few months. How I’ve become shallow and obsessed with sponsorship opportunities. How I seem less authentic. How I even sound different.
But here’s the kicker: during the last twenty minutes, she makes the outrageous claim that I’m actually Julie Chan. Her proof? A deep analysis of Finding My Long-Lost Twin and Buying Her a House #EMOTIONAL , where she examines each second of the video, frame-by-frame like a fucking stalker, pointing out all our differences. Like how Chloe had a tiny birthmark on her right arm. How my nose is slightly bigger. How our teeth are different. Chloe had nice gums and a straight smile, while I had an underbite (which I’m fixing). How I pronounce certain vowels weirdly, drawing out the sounds. Or how I say like more than Chloe ever did and am less articulate in general—which is elitist as fuck.
Most of the comments seem to agree that the video, while entertaining, is a stretch. Akin to those Avril Lavigne clone conspiracies. That no one is sociopathic enough to switch lives with their twin, and that if it were true, I would have been caught already. But there are enough comments agreeing with Samantha that my mind tumbles into dark places.
How did she find out the truth? Did Auntie or Patrick contact her? I wouldn’t put it past them. They always take me down at my lowest point. Maybe this is a threat, a precursor to asking for more blackmail money.
I text Patrick: Do you know Samantha? Is it you?
He replies within a second, always on his phone: Send me $1K and I’ll let you know. I’m trying to get a new chara on Genshin. The gacha is fucked.
I text: fuck u. And send him the money.
He replies: I’ve never heard of Samantha. Should I?
As much as Patrick is scum, there’s no reason for him to lie about this. It doesn’t benefit him or my aunt if I get caught.
But this means Samantha came up with these conclusions organically. This isn’t good.
A few weeks ago, I would have clambered to the bathroom and curled up in a ball to hyperventilate, but my time as Chloe has changed me. The exercise, positive affirmations, social safety nets, and community have given me an intrinsic sense of confidence and control.
I close my eyes, take a breath, and feel the earth beneath my feet, propping me up.
When I open my eyes, I come up with a plan of attack to discredit this idiotic theory before it grows legs. I can’t call out Samantha directly. I’ve been on the internet long enough to know about the Streisand effect. The more I bring attention to it, the more I’m fanning the flames.
I need to be rational and methodical. Drive awareness without naming her specifically.
I decide to address the video on Instagram live, since those who tune in are usually my most loyal fans. Sitting on my kitchen floor, where I look the most distraught and vulnerable, I paint blush around my eyes and rub them hard so they look bloodshot.
Then it begins.
My Chloe Crew trickle in. I pretend to want to converse with them by teasing future video ideas and giving birthday shout-outs.
The whole time, I’m waiting for an inevitable comment about my appearance. And then I get it.
You look sad today. Are you okay?
I jump at the opportunity.
I read the comment aloud like I accidentally saw it. Pause, for dramatic effect. Sniffle and rub my eyes. “Honestly, guys… it’s been a really tough time for me.”
The love showers in.
Omg? Are you okay?
We love you Chloe! Everything will be all right!
“I’ve seen a really, really hurtful video this week… I understand that some of you feel like I’ve changed,” I say, to my eight thousand viewers, “and that’s because I have. Grief is something that changes someone from the inside out. You can’t compare the Chloe I was before Julie’s death to the Chloe I am now. I-I even saw this video…” I duck out of the frame and drop saline into my eyes, heave a few breaths. “This video, you guys… it was, like, really mean. Like, vicious. The person was claiming that Julie took my identity.” I shake my head again, distraught. “I don’t know what type of sick, sick person would ever say that. How could someone ever accuse my sister of doing something so heinous?”
I sigh, like I’m making a confession, like it’s hard to go on. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m not just a face behind a screen. I’m a real person. I can read comments and watch videos. And words affect me. Hurt me. If you feel like I’ve changed and you don’t like me anymore, that’s your prerogative. You can always unfollow me. But there’s no need to send hate or make such distasteful videos. Especially not about someone as innocent as my twin.”
Omg! Don’t cry!
Are you talking about that video from Samantha?
Can someone DM me a link?
Is this about Samantha?
You still look stunning!
I love you Chloe!
You are so pretty even when you’re crying. I love how authentic you are!
Hearts cloud up on the corner of the screen from likes.
The Belladonna group chat goes crazy.
Ana: I can’t believe someone would make such a terrible video.
Kelly: ugh. Even I think it’s gross.
Lily: Call me if you ever need some support.
Iz: my heart breaks for you.
Maya: Some people are so psycho.
Emmeline: I’m so sad for you, Chloe. Remember we are here. We are family!
Angelique: That video is so disgusting. I made a story in support of you. I think we all should do the same.
Sophia: Good idea!
Ten minutes later, eight of the Belladonnas—such angels—have posted a story in support of me, defending my actions and publicly shaming an unnamed content creator who hurt my feelings. (Bella Marie has been silent. She’s away in Norway. She’s probably too busy.) But the internet isn’t stupid. Subtlety doesn’t exist in social media. Everyone knows exactly who I was talking about and my Chloe Crew love me enough to blindly bombard Samantha’s comments.
By the next morning, Samantha takes down the video and sends me a DM apologizing, saying she feels terrible, that she never meant to hurt me.
I don’t feel bad at all. This is what you get for cyberbullying someone.
I leave the message on read for three days until she has to private all her accounts. Then I send her a reply: Thank you for reaching out. I know it’s not easy to apologize, even when we do something wrong. If you are ever feeling depressed from this situation, feel free to use my link for one free therapy session at BetterTherapy. Love, Chloe V.