Thirteen
T he DM I’m waiting for arrives the next morning.
@Stephanie: Why don’t you swing by this weekend if you’re free? I’m sure Natalia would love to meet you. Just let me know when you can make it.
We go back and forth about when a good time would be to meet today, and then she sends me an address.
I’m going to meet Natalia Aguilar today.
“Tell me again why this artist is so important?” Julian asks on the road. He’d insisted on driving us when he found out Krystal and I were meeting an “internet stranger.” “Can’t you just do the scavenger hunt without her? You don’t even have the rest of it planned out yet.”
“For one, I want everyone to know that my asexual identity means just as much to me as my lesbian identity,” I explain to him. “I read a couple of interviews Natalia did back when she was first gaining popularity. She talked about how she’d get comments on social media that her identity was ‘made up,’ or that she was using it as an excuse to profit off the art she was creating with queer themes.”
“The call is coming from inside the house,” Krystal says from the back seat.
“Exactly.” I nod. “It’s like the handful of comments I still get on a regular basis. There are people who genuinely think I’m lying about never being kissed, who get so pissed every time I say I’m asexual. The other day, someone said it was because I’m afraid to call myself a lesbian with my full chest. That I need some kind of buffer between myself and the word. Others just think I’m a special snowflake.”
“I’m sorry, Angela.” Julian glances over with a frown.
“I could replace Natalia’s work with something else that still tells people I don’t give a fuck whether they believe asexuality exists or not. The problem is I wouldn’t know where to start, and I can bet my entire savings account that nothing will be able to move me like Natalia’s art.” I shake my head. “There’s also…”
“What?” Krystal asks when I trail off.
I have this absurd fantasy in my head of what it would be like to befriend her. Us hanging out, talking about our identities together and not worrying that she isn’t going to know what I’m talking about, or that she won’t be able to understand me. The same way I can talk to other aces online, except she’s here . In the same city as me, where we can meet to go get coffee and talk to each other face-to-face, on a human level, without a screen between us.
It’s too tempting not to at least try.
“Let’s just see what they have to say,” I tell them. “Stephanie reached out to me for a reason. Maybe they already have some ideas for how to incorporate Natalia’s work in the scavenger hunt. If the vibe is off, we’ll leave and you’ll never hear me bemoaning the loss of the mural ever again.”
Krystal nods when I turn to look at her, but Julian’s expression doesn’t change. Not even when he says, “She could be a serial killer for all we know. Yeah, online she’s supposedly this great artist, but maybe that’s just a cover for the murder house we’re about to walk into.”
I roll my eyes at Julian’s assessment, but it’s not lost on me that I could be completely delusional here. What do I really know about this person aside from how her art makes me feel? And is that enough foundation to build a friendship on, or is this a parasocial mess waiting to happen?
“She lives in a studio apartment,” Krystal adds from the back seat. “And I’ve met her before. Didn’t get any killer vibes from her.”
“None you could pick up on, at least,” Julian says. “But how much can you really learn about someone from one meeting?”
On that morbid note, Julian pulls into the parking lot of an old apartment building and stops the car a yard away. The building doesn’t look much different from the Google street view I’d looked up earlier.
“This is it.” Julian turns to me with a dry smile. “Try not to get killed. That’ll be super awkward to explain to your parents.”
“As usual, your support is unparalleled.” I send him a sugary grin before opening the passenger side door. “Here we go.”
“If you’re not back in twenty minutes, I’m calling the cops.”
“No interest in coming with us on the off-chance Natalia is a serial killer?” I narrow my eyes at him. “Here I thought you were playing the part of white knight in insisting you tag along.”
“What’s knight-ier than calling the authorities from the safety of the parking lot?” He rests a lazy arm against the steering wheel, flipping his phone in his hand. “There’s no hope for you if I’m in that apartment when she’s on her killing spree. I’ve got your back.”
“A yard away from the building, you have our back,” I deadpan. “Sure, Jules.”
“So, we’re agreed.” He smirks. “Have fun.”
In a couple of strides we reach the stairs, climb up the steps, and arrive outside apartment number 215. I’m bracing to knock when my mind blanks out.
“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Krystal asks.
I shake my head, mind reeling. Damn Julian for getting in my head. It’s not that I actually believe Natalia is a rabid murderer, but what if this meeting doesn’t go the way I’m hoping?
“Come on.” Krystal rings the doorbell and grabs my hand. She squeezes once, assuring me that everything will be fine. “You never know unless you try.”
When the door cracks open, I recognize Natalia immediately from photos I’ve seen of her online. From what I can gather, she’s around my age, and her dark hair is pulled up in a bun at the top of her head by a giant velvet scrunchie. She’s wearing leggings and a tank top, and her feet are bare. She crosses her arms over her chest, face scrunched in confusion.
“Hi.” I step forward, letting go of Krystal’s hand to hold out my own to Natalia. “I’m Angela Gutierrez. Let me just start off by saying I’m a huge fan of your work.”
“I can’t imagine how you found me, but I won’t have any new pieces to share until the next First Friday.”
I’m confused for a moment, and then flummoxed when she shuts the door in my face.
My confusion is echoed in Krystal’s expression, so it’s at least good to know I’m not the only one thrown here.
“What the hell was that?”
“You said she and Stephanie were roommates, right?” Krystal asks. “Did Natalia not know you were coming?”
I pull out my phone and read Stephanie’s last message again.
I’m sure Natalia would love to meet you.
On my second read, it’s not a definite indicator that Natalia was expecting me. It’s not even an indicator that Natalia knows who I am, despite Stephanie’s assurance that this meeting would be okay.
“I figured Stephanie told her about me.” I shake my head. “Should we try again?”
A second later, the door swings open but it’s not Natalia on the other side. “Angela! So glad you could make it.”
“Stephanie, hi.” I take in the woman’s fair skin dotted with freckles and light brown hair falling in waves past her shoulders, immediately recognizing her from her profile picture. “Is this a bad time?” Odd, since this is the time we planned to meet.
“No, please.” She opens the door wider and gestures us inside. “Come in.”
I glance at Natalia, who offers the couch with a reluctant wave of her arm, before taking a seat in the armchair beside it. Krystal and I take seats on the couch next to each other. We’re cramped even closer together when Stephanie takes a seat on Krystal’s other side.
“This is my friend Krystal,” I say to Natalia, who barely looks up. “We actually went to the Tower of the Americas a few days ago because I wanted to show her the mural you painted. It’s beautiful.” Was. But I’ll get there. “It’s actually how I discovered you. I’ve probably spent hours going through your online portfolio.”
“I already told her you’re a fan of her work,” Stephanie says from the other side of the couch.
“You wanted to show your friend that mural?” Natalia’s head snaps up.
“That’s the one.” I nod as Krystal’s knee shakes slightly, pressing her thigh even closer to mine.
“But you’ve already seen it.” For a moment, I don’t realize that Natalia’s gaze has slid over to my side, and that her next words are directed at Krystal and not me.
“Wait, when did you see it?” I turn to Krystal in surprise, but she doesn’t seem to have heard me. I recalled how I caught a flash of recognition in her eyes. I thought I’d imagined it.
“That reminds me.” Natalia turns her back on us and makes her way over to the desk shoved in the corner of the living room. “I came up with a suitable replacement for you after all.”
“What is she talking about?” I ask Krystal once Natalia’s back is turned. Her face is impossibly close to mine. When she turns to me, we’re practically breathing the same air.
“Remember the mix-up I told you about?” I nod at her. “The piece she gave me—”
“I’m in a bit of a slump, so you’ll have to forgive me. I don’t make a habit of being six months late on commissions,” Natalia calls out as she riffles through a filing cabinet. “Here it is. Sort of a twin to The Woman in Wanting , you could say.”
She hands Krystal an eight-by-ten print of the most breathtaking piece of art I’ve ever seen, aside from the mural I’ve grown abnormally attached to. The same colors and overall style are used in this piece, but the woman in it is undoubtedly different from the one depicted in the mural. The features of her face are different, her hair sleeker and straighter, but her expression is… sad. Her eyes are closed in anguish. A delicate hand is raised over the outline of a beating heart inside her chest, as if shielding it.
The Woman in Waiting , the title below it reads.
“It’s beautiful,” Krystal says, staring at the print in awe. Then, as if shaking herself out of a trance, she says, “Thank you.” She’s in the middle of digging through her purse when Natalia raises a hand.
“Six months late, remember?” She shakes her head. “This one’s on me.”
Finally, Natalia turns to face me. “If Stephanie is to be believed, I guess this belongs to you, then.” Her hand dips back into the filing cabinet before she hands me a print, the same size as Krystal’s. It’s an exact rendering of the mural that was washed away, only in clearer, more vivid detail. The Woman in Wanting , the title above it reads.
“You’re giving this to me?” I ask, even as my fingers clutch it tighter. I may not know why she’s giving me the print so easily, but there’s no way she’s getting it back from my greedy hands if she changes her mind. “I don’t understand.”
“You were right,” she says, but not to me. “It wasn’t yours after all.”
“That’s the one she gave me originally.” Krystal nods to the print in my hand. “She gave me The Woman in Wanting .”
“She did ?” I glance down at the print in my hand, then back at her. “That’s why you recognized the mural. I wasn’t sure, but I thought…” I shake my head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You told me how much that mural meant to you,” she explains. “It didn’t feel right to tell you about the way I grimaced when Natalia first showed it to me. It’s not that I hated it or anything, just that it… didn’t resonate with me.”
Meanwhile, it resonated with me so strongly it led me all the way to Natalia’s apartment.
“I don’t usually allow for do-overs, especially not for that particular round of commissions,” Natalia says.
“The All the Ways to Be Queer series?” I ask. Both Krystal and Natalia nod. “I heard about it, months after the fact, but still. People submitted a paragraph detailing their experience to queerness, and then got a specialized art piece. I read about how one person even got a blown glass frog. I would’ve loved to commission something from that series.”
“Well, congratulations.” Natalia smiles dryly as she takes her seat again.
“The mural might’ve been washed off, but I thought you should still have a piece of The Woman in Wanting ,” Stephanie says. “Not that it’s any consolation prize, but—”
“No, it’s better ,” I protest, looking between them before landing on the artist in question. “I can’t even begin to thank you.”
“I’m happy you like it,” Stephanie says. “Natalia—”
“Let’s cut to the chase, then,” Natalia interrupts. “I know why you’re here. You’re the content creator who thinks it’s a good idea for some godforsaken reason to date the entire internet.”
“That’s one way to put it.” I let out a nervous laugh. “But I’m concentrating more on the scavenger hunt right now. I thought it might be a great way to meet other queer people in town and ultimately have my first kiss. You know how much your art means to me.”
“So I’ve been told.” She glances at Stephanie and a look crosses between the two that I can’t decipher. “She’s been talking about you all week.”
“Because it’s the perfect way to get you out of your rut,” Stephanie says. “I thought if you could just hear her out—”
“Don’t get me wrong, your story is very compelling,” Natalia says over her friend, turning back to me. On Krystal’s other side, Stephanie crosses her arms over her chest and mumbles something I can’t hear. “It would have to be for you to have amassed the kind of following in the amount of time you have.”
“Thank you?” I exchange a look with Krystal, confused about where this is going, but the pit forming in the base of my stomach knows the truth before I do.
“I’m afraid Stephanie invited you here under false pretenses,” Natalia says. “I can’t help you.”
“If you would just listen to what they have to say—”
“You know how this story goes just as well as I do,” Natalia tells Stephanie, shaking her head slightly before turning back to me. “I can’t help you with the scavenger hunt, but I can give you some advice. I’m sure you’ve heard all about what happened to me by now.”
“I’ve only read articles about you alluding to… what happened, but I don’t know the full story,” I tell her. “I get it, though. People are so miserable that when they see you thriving and happy online, they have to take you down. I get messages like that all the time.”
“You don’t get it.” She rises from her seat. “What you’re experiencing now is only a taste of what’s coming the second you stop giving your audience what they want. Quit before they tear you apart. That’s my advice.”
“You want me to quit?” I burst from my seat, and then we’re eye to eye. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry about what happened to you, but that’s not—”
“Not going to happen to you?” She huffs a laugh even as her eyes narrow. “If you really believe that, you’re a fool. The signs are already there. There are rumors circulating online about your past.”
“Rumors about my…” I take a step back from her, stunned. “ What? ”
“Men who you’ve supposedly dated and flirted with and ghosted, claiming the story you’ve created online is all a fabrication. Oh, you didn’t know about that?” She raises a brow. “Then there’s the woman you brought with you. I don’t believe you’ve mentioned Krystal at any point in your videos.”
There are no words to explain how completely bizarre it is to hear about my history of flirting with men and infatuation with Krystal from a perfect stranger. She’s not totally wrong, except for the fact that there was only one guy I ever dated, not that I count it as “dating” at all.
“We’re just friends,” Krystal says, rising to put herself between me and Natalia. “I’m helping her put on the scavenger hunt. Why would I do that if we were something more?”
I’m still wondering why she’d go through the trouble myself, especially after what she told me about her past relationships. If she really believes love isn’t for her, why is she so interested in whether I find it or not?
“Where did you hear these rumors from?” I ask Natalia.
“For better or worse, my For You page is now a fan of any topic relating to you. There are people claiming to know you in some capacity making videos about you now. For good measure, I searched your name on Reddit and found even more bullshit.”
“They’re not true,” Krystal says. “Obviously these people will say anything for their ten minutes of fame.”
“You really think these people care about the truth?” Natalia lets out a sharp laugh. “Anyone familiar with comphet can put two and two together to explain the way Angela has interacted with these men in the past. As for whatever’s going on here”—she waggles a finger between me and Krystal—“maybe you’re friends, maybe you’re something more. What I do know is there’s nothing that breaks down a parasocial relationship faster than even a whiff of deception.”
“How am I deceiving my audience by being friends with Krystal, exactly?”
“I don’t know. How many friends do you hold hands with and make moon eyes at?”
Oh no. Do I have a habit of making moon eyes at Krystal without even knowing it?
“I get it, okay? You smell smoke, and that’s why you don’t want to help me. You’ve been through your own internet dogpiling already. I can imagine you don’t want anything to do with another in the making. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
“You still don’t get it.” She shakes her head before I turn to leave, and when she looks up at me, her eyes are shining. “I’m not your enemy here. I’m not saying you’re deceiving anyone.” Natalia steps forward as I step out from behind Krystal’s back. “I wasn’t either, but they still came for me.”
“This is ridiculous!” Krystal protests, crossing the room to face Natalia. “Are you really this bitter over what happened to you? The internet has the memory of a gnat when it comes to stupid shit like this. Are you really gonna let it ruin your spirit like you let it ruin your career?”
“Hey!” Stephanie steps in front of Natalia. “You’re going to need to watch your tone. This isn’t what I invited you here for.”
“What did you invite me here for anyway?” I ask her. “I don’t get it. I thought Natalia was on board to help with the scavenger hunt. Clearly she has no interest in having anything to do with me.”
“Stephanie still has hope for me.” Natalia rolls her eyes before facing her roommate. “Which makes her more foolish than you, Angela.”
“I may not have liked the way she yelled at you, but Krystal has a point,” Stephanie says. “You don’t have to let them win. It hurts me to see the way you mope around this apartment. You haven’t picked up a brush in weeks . Dropping out of First Friday was the last straw. I had to do something .”
“Wait, you dropped out of First Friday?” I ask her.
“Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn’t.” She shakes her head. “This slump has been killing me.”
“If you would just try —”
“Nothing is working !” Natalia kicks the coffee table so hard, the glass falls and shatters. The three of us stand here, stunned and silent, until Natalia exits the living room without another word.
“We should…” Krystal looks between me and Stephanie. She nods her head toward the door and her voice lowers to a whisper. “We should probably go.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Stephanie motions us to follow her. Outside, she shuts the door behind us with a soft click. “I’m so sorry about… well, about everything. She’s been like this since she quit social media last year. I didn’t understand it. She was at the height of her career, but I guess it’s true what they say.” She holds my gaze, and a shudder runs through my body as she says, “What goes up must come down.”
There are so many questions I want to ask, but I don’t even know where to start.
“You thought I’d be able to get through to her,” I realize. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Don’t be sorry yet,” she says. “I still think you can.”
“But why me? Natalia and I don’t even know each other. What makes you think I’ll be able to change her mind?” I ask. “Because of the mural?”
“Because there’s nothing that matters more to her than community,” she explains. “There was a time when she would’ve jumped at the chance to be part of this scavenger hunt. She’s not herself, and I…” She sucks in a breath. “I’m worried she won’t ever be the same again.”
I want to ask her again, what happened ? Natalia has already proven she wants nothing to do with me. Stephanie is wrong, and so am I. There’s nothing I can do to convince her to be part of this.
“I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do.”
Just as I’m about to turn away, she reaches for my arm. “Wait.”
I turn back to her.
“Let’s exchange numbers at least. I know you’re on a timeline, but maybe something will change. I’ll let you know if anything does.”
“All right.” I nod, but inside I’m not as hopeful as she seems to be. Natalia turning me down is one thing, but I still have the rumors she mentioned to look into. As it is, I have to figure out if the scavenger hunt is still salvageable, or if it was DOA from the very beginning.