Chapter One
Gemma (Present Day)
Iknow I’m a joke to my family.
They think my job as an influencer is made up and silly. Dad is convinced it’s dangerous and not something I should do long-term, often lecturing me on putting my focus on school rather than my platform.
For me, though, it’s something I’m proud of. I built it from nothing and shaped it into something that not only awards me a viable income but also gives me a voice to help other people.
Sure, sometimes that help is showing my followers what moisturizer I use or my favorite lip gloss, but it feels bigger than that. One day, I hope to use it in a way that’s more impactful.
One day.
I’m not really sure how I’ll turn my content around without some blowback, but I’ll figure it out. It’s why I’m majoring in marketing at PMU.
What my family and followers don’t see is all that goes into maintaining and growing my audience. Each day, I spend hours strategizing content, researching what others are doing, and replying to my followers to cultivate and build solid relationships. So many girls my age and younger have reached out to me to let me know they aspire to be like me. It makes me feel good that I’m inspiring them, even if it’s just to feel better about their outward appearance.
I’m making my way through my messages when I come to a strange one.
@TwoCanPlayThisGame.
The username sends a chill down my spine.
I read the message, trying to make sense of it.
I see you. The real you. The you no one else but me sees.
I click on their profile to see what sort of person is sending me this message. From another girl like myself, it could mean something totally different than some random weird man. The profile, though, has nothing to offer. It’s a new account. They’re not following anyone but me and they have no posts. The picture is a screenshot of my profile page.
This is the kind of stuff Dad is worried about, but thankfully, I know how to handle it. It’s not the first weirdo to message me and it certainly won’t be the last. I quickly block the person and delete the message without giving it another thought.
I move on to more sweet messages about how my recommendation for an acne treatment helped one girl’s skin clear up and now she’s feeling more confident. As I read through them all—each one kind and uplifting—I can’t help but keep thinking back to the creepy message.
I see you. The real you. The you no one else but me sees.
It’s a scary thought. The real me, the girl buried deep beneath the perfect makeup, style, and smile, is insecure, feels smothered by her father wanting to keep her safe, and wants to be seen for more than a trophy. That girl isn’t as confident as the one she outwardly portrays for the internet. Knowing someone else might see her leaves me feeling exposed and raw.
I suck in a deep breath and exhale heavily. My nerves are brittle, making me feel slightly nauseous. Imposter syndrome claws its way up inside me, mocking me.
Who do I think I am?
Maybe I’m just a joke.
I give my head a sharp shake and look at my follower count that’s recently surpassed a million. I’m doing something right or these people wouldn’t be here.
With a quick check of my makeup, I turn the camera on me and push the live button. My smile is wide and bright—you can’t even tell it’s fake.
“Hey, Gems,” I say, waving at the camera. “If you’re new here, I’m @GemmaLovesUx2 and I’m dying to tell you about this new primer I just got. Your makeup will look as flawless when you go to bed as when you applied it in the morning. I’m telling you guys you’re going to freak out at how amazing this product is.”
The hearts and comments start flooding in, reminding me I am good at this.
I won’t let some creep torment me and throw me off my game.
I’m Gemma freaking Park.
I invented the game.
Family dinners each Sunday with all my siblings and their significant others are becoming quite a circus. Now that Jude got his porch fixed, even Grandpa and Violet come over. There are spouses, fiancés, fiancées, babies, dogs, and now old people. Everyone has someone.
Everyone but me.
I’m young, so it’s not like I’m looking to date anyone, but I can’t help but feel slightly jealous of my friend Willa, who’s happily married to my brother Callum. They have baby Bane, who is so cute and perfect. Willa’s not much older than me either.
And then, there’s my twin, Dempsey. At eighteen, he’s engaged to Mom’s best friend and local detective, Sloane Thurman. They don’t want kids from what my brother tells me, but they recently adopted an adorable puppy named Beauty.
Dad always said no pets.
The second Dempsey moves out, he gets one.
I’d stupidly assumed this past summer that starting at Park Mountain University, I could stay on campus and finally have my freedom. Dempsey got his freedom. Unfortunately, Dad made it very clear I’d live at home through college.
So unfair.
Luckily, he budged on his rules for the Tahoe he got me and Dempsey. At one time, we were only allowed to drive it if the other was in the car. But since Dempsey moved out and got his own car, the Tahoe would sit in the driveway, never getting driven unless Dad gave in.
The highlight of my day is when I get up and go to school. I’ve completed a whole semester already. It’s been so much fun meeting new people. Getting out from beneath my dad’s overprotective blanket is a plus as well.
“Gemma, sweetie, you’ve barely touched your lasagna,” Mom says from beside me. “You feeling okay? I can make an appointment with Dr. Thacker in the morning.”
Dad’s not the only overprotective one. Sometimes, even though it’s always filled with love, I feel smothered by my parents. It was worse for Dempsey. He could barely stand it and took off the second he was able to.
I’m stuck until I graduate.
Not because I don’t have the money or whatever. I have a trust fund, allowance money, fun money Dad gives me, and all my considerable earnings from my sponsorships. It’s just, I’m afraid of being lonely.
“I’m fine,” I assure my mother, giving her my most perfect smile that fools everyone, including myself sometimes. “Just nervous about starting a new semester tomorrow. One of the teachers I got is supposed to be really hard. He comes up with crazy projects that totally suck.”
“You’ll do great.” Mom reaches over and clutches my hand. “Get through this week and we’ll go get massages on Saturday.”
I do love a good massage.
“You’re a lifesaver, Mom.”
Dinner continues, every single person absorbed in their own personal happiness. I’m so used to deflecting my own emotions just to please my parents that sometimes I feel slighted.
Why can’t I just blow up at dinner and tell everyone off like Dempsey has before?
The thought of doing that, though, makes my skin crawl. I need to just get over my weird feelings lately. My parents have always been this way, but it’s not because they’re cruel. They just love us so much and want to protect us.
“Want to get up early and meet for coffee before your first class?” Tate, my brother Jude’s fiancé, asks from my other side. “I feel like we need to catch up.”
I love Tate. He’s perfect for my brother and really brought him out of his reclusive state. Tate fit right in with our family. It also helps he’s a therapist. This family needs lots of therapy.
Except me.
Dad says I’m perfect. I never do anything wrong and am always succeeding in whatever I do. What do I need therapy for?
Maybe he’s right.
Sometimes, when I’m about to get my period, I feel sorry for myself. I must be getting ready to start soon.
“Sounds fun,” I say, flashing him another perfect grin. “Maybe Dempsey will join us.”
My twin brother is now a coffee lover like me, Tate, and Willa. Tate likes to take credit for that win, but I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the fact Sloane is obsessed. Since Dempsey is obsessed with her, it makes sense.
“Oh,” Tate exclaims, “I forgot to tell you I hired Vada to plan the wedding. She’s hella expensive, but Jude says I’m worth it.” He sighs heavily. “The sad part is, we have to move the wedding to the fall in order to get everything I want. Jude says he’ll wait forever for me because I’m his everything.”
This time, my giggle is absolutely real. I love it when Tate preens about how much Jude loves him. It’s the truth, too. Tate’s ex was a monster, but my brother treats him like the prince he is.
“Do I still get to help pick out the tuxes you two will wear?”
Tate smirks. “Duh. You’re a bridesmaid. Part of the job.”
As he babbles about colors that would be so hot for fall, I can’t help but feel sad that he didn’t choose me for his maid of honor. I’m Jude’s sister after all. He asked Willa, and while I’m happy for her to be included, it still hurt. Even Tate, my adorable brother-in-law-to-be, has a better friend than me.
I hate that I can’t shake this icky feeling that’s coated over me lately. Since starting college, I always feel weighed down by a shroud of…something.
Unhappiness? Depression? Inadequacy?
Whatever it is, I don’t like it. No matter how hard I pretend that everything is fine or force myself to keep trudging through it with a smile affixed, it never really goes away.
I kind of wish I could schedule a meeting with Tate. An official meeting where I brain dump everything that’s bothering me so he can quickly tell me how to fix it. Once it’s fixed, I can move along business as usual.
Tate stops talking mid-sentence and frowns. “Something’s up, Gem.”
“Nothing’s up,” I say with another fake grin. “I just had this horrible thought of you choosing yellow.”
Tate’s lip curls up. “Ew. No. Don’t worry. I’m leaning toward lavender. Wouldn’t Jude look so hot in lavender?”
It’s my turn to balk. “Ew. Wrong bridesmaid to talk about that stuff with. I’m sure Aubrey or Willa would love to agree, but I think Jude and hot don’t belong in the same sentence. Don’t be disgusting.”
We both laugh and then Tate is being pulled away to a conversation with his hubby-to-be. I stifle a sigh and take a moment to appreciate this wild, crazy family I have. Most people would love to be me. I literally have it all: loving parents, tight-knit family, great hair, awesome car, financial means, and paid-for college.
I mean, a million people follow me because I’m a picture of perfection.
Except @TwoCanPlayThisGame.
That person claimed they could see the real me. The one beneath the polished exterior. The sad, confused, lonely girl.
Pulling out my phone, I quickly do a search for content creators who are known for positive self-talk. Once I’ve followed a few, I decide I’ll do a deep dive into their pages for answers on how to get myself out of this funk.
I can totally do it.
I achieve things all the time that seem impossible to others.
Tomorrow, school will start back up and things will get easier. I’ll be around new people, busy with homework, and free to just be me. All I need to do is get through tonight.
In the morning, I’ll be back to the Gemma everyone loves and adores both on the outside and the inside.
I’m allowed one bad day.
Only one.