Chapter 11 #2
“All right, I’m up first,” Cooper says with a clap of his hands, rubbing his palms together as he grins at me. “But I personally doubt the comment sections have anything on you, Eva.”
I flip my hair, shooting him a baleful smile.
Text pops up along the screen, and he leans forward, squinting as he reads it. “ No one tell Freud but I’d call him Daddy. ” His eyes light up and he looks straight at me. “Did you know that ‘Spank me, Daddy’ in Dutch is ‘Geef me een klap, Papa’ ? Can you imagine whipping that out in bed?”
It takes me a beat to process that. “Do you let every intrusive thought win?” I blurt. “And Freud was Austrian.”
“Yes, of course,” Cooper says, waving away my argument. “But can you imagine him working through that kink with a Dutch patient?”
I laugh, then disguise it as a cough, trying to hide my smile from the camera. The tension in my shoulders eases a bit. Maybe this won’t be as brutal as I was thinking.
Cooper holds my gaze, a glint flashing in his eyes that says we’re in this together, then he clears his throat and reads the next one. “ You know a man holds too much power when you crave being teabagged by him. Oh my. Okay. Are these mean comments or unhinged thirst comments?”
“Jesus Christ, did you write these about yourself?” My face twists in annoyance.
His eyes shoot wide and he shakes his head. “Despite circulating rumors, I have never actually craved being teabagged by anyone.”
“We’ll bring in a polygraph for our next video.”
“Aw, Kitten, you’re always so eager to figure out the next time you’ll see me. It’s sweet.”
My mouth falls open in a mix of surprise and indignation, but Cooper’s laugh is a magnet, pulling me closer to the screen. With a start, I straighten my shoulders, chancing a quick glance at William’s thumbnail, then back to Cooper. My stomach swoops when I realize William looked pleased.
“Okay, last one,” Cooper says, wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead. “ I feel —Oh god, this one is going right for my jugular.”
“Read it, coward,” I tease, returning his look that we have each other’s backs in this.
Cooper wilts for the camera, but carries on. “ I feel like if Rylie Cooper had facial hair his mustache would never connect with his beard… That one really does hurt. Not that I’m saying it’s true or anything… but I can’t say it isn’t either.”
“The only thing worse for a man than facial hair commentary is a hairline critique,” I say with a solemn nod. “Rest in peace, friend.”
Cooper’s face lights up like a kid on his birthday. “Eva Kitt, am I your friend ?”
I blink a few times, trying to connect his overjoyed expression with my statement, my mind tripping over itself in the process.
“I—No. I mean… What? Stop.” I try to wipe my features to neutral, leg bouncing under the table in an effort to dispel whatever silly demon has recently possessed me because, against my wishes, Rylie Cooper does feel a bit like a friend lately.
Which is utter nonsense.
“I’m your frienddddddd ,” Cooper croons like we’re children on the playground and he’s accusing me of French-kissing him. “Oh my god, Eva, you’re so obsessed with me.”
“Can we cut for a second?” I snap, eyes bouncing between Aida and William. She’s smiling like she’s watching a rom-com; he’s smiling like a shark that sniffed blood.
William’s face falls into a scowl and he unmutes himself. “Why are you cutting? That was great content.”
“I just, uh, really need a second,” I say, sweat trickling down my back at the scolding and the sudden surge of generally nice feelings toward Cooper.
William shakes his head, the disapproval of it gripping me by the throat. “This is journalism, Miss Kitt, and I’d appreciate some professionalism. You have to lean into a moment, expose its truth. Or are you not up for the task?”
I open my mouth, not sure how to respectfully express that I don’t think a recorded Zoom call where we read social media comments actually counts as journalism, but his expression has me slamming my jaws shut and nodding in agreement.
“Right. Sorry. You’re right. I just had a moment where I was too in my head. Sorry. I…”
“You’re doing great,” Cooper says, the low tenderness in his voice surprising me so thoroughly I flinch. I slant a look at him, and his expression is serious, fixed on me. “That was fun, but Eva’s right, we should cut the friend stuff. It undermines our whole back-and-forth schtick.”
“I’ll make the editorial decisions on the content of the company I’m running, thank you,” William says in a stony voice.
I catch Aida’s eyebrows dipping, and I can tell she’s wondering if that’s true or if she’ll have to work through the night to get everything edited and uploaded herself at the rate Soundbites demands.
Cooper holds up his palms, leaning back. “Not trying to overstep—”
“Your gait isn’t long enough,” I mumble.
He shoots me a good-natured eye roll. “But I did want to gently remind you my contract states I have a not-insignificant say in the final content put on the site,” he continues.
This is news to me, and my instinct is to be resentful that he has some level of protection and control in this thing while I’m floundering, but Cooper’s jaw is set, muscles poised in false relaxation contradicted by the protective glint in his eyes that I realize is for… me.
Indignation and anger flash across William’s face, but he smooths it into something placid, a hint of a patronizing smile on his lips. “Of course. And this is something that can be discussed over email instead of taking up significant filming time.”
“Right,” Cooper says with a genuine kindness, attention slipping from William back to me. “It’s Eva’s turn to get roasted, isn’t it?”
There’s a simmer to his voice, a hint of teasing that tickles down my spine. I tense my shoulders against it. “Taste of my own medicine, I’m sure you’d call it,” I reply, getting back into my apathetic character.
“Only if I were clever enough.” Cooper’s grin is so crooked and goofy I almost laugh. Aida counts us down again to start.
“All right, let’s see,” I say as my first mean comment pops up.
I rapidly skim it, trying to fight a frown.
“ She seems like one of those girls that smell overwhelmingly like artificial vanilla ,” I read in a monotone voice.
I offer a catlike smile to the camera. “I actually smell like expensive perfume and disdain, but thank you for thinking I’m that sweet. ”
“Your breath always smells like peppermint, so they aren’t that far off,” Cooper chimes in.
My head jerks back. “What are you talking about? Vanilla and peppermint are totally different scents. Also, don’t smell my breath, you creep.”
Cooper purses his lips and shrugs, fighting a flirty smile. He’s such a scamp and I want to strangle the insufferable cuteness out of him.
I focus instead on the next comment. “ She’s like a skunk always ready to spray.
Girl chill you don’t always need to go so hard .
” I blink a few times, trying to tamp down the twist of pain in my gut, but I keep my cruel smile in place.
“Right. Because the second a woman makes a retort or a sarcastic comment, she’s overreacting and being too sensitive.
Men pick fistfights at bars over less but I’m the one who needs to chill. ”
“For what it’s worth, I like you piping hot, Eva,” Cooper says, his voice more soothing than teasing. It irritates me all the more.
“Oh, good. You know how I live to please you.”
Cooper’s wounded expression has me wondering if maybe I am a skunk.
I read the next one quickly as a distraction.
“ I’m praying for Eva. Not for anything good to happen to her but that she falls in a ditch.
” Wow. Okay. That’s kind of… awful. Whatever.
I can recover. Quick as light in a vacuum.
“Wishing for that too, girl. Anything to escape this post-capitalist hellscape, am I right?”
Cooper’s face is much more somber, and I don’t know how to respond.
William calls cut. “I didn’t love the latter part of your reaction. Let’s try a fresh take with a different one.”
“Uh, really?”
“I’m sure we can smooth it out in post,” Aida argues weakly.
William doesn’t visibly react. “Another one.”
After a beat, Aida counts me down again. Gritting my teeth, I start to read. “ She looks like a — No. I’m not saying that.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not going to read something derogatory like that about sex workers. It’ll need to be a different comment.”
William stares at me, skin taut and jaw clenched.
“Fine. But I do ask that you not be unnecessarily difficult about this. We all have other important things we need to get to and this recording is eating up more time than anticipated. My mother led me to believe you would be a professional about all of this and I’d hate to report otherwise. ”
I feel so abjectly mortified, I just sit there, praying my lower lip doesn’t start quivering.
“Well? What’s the holdup, Aida?” William snaps, gaze flicking to her. “Feed out another.”
Aida jumps, hands darting to her keyboard. In her panic, she must hit some wrong buttons, and a series of comments start popping up on the screen.
Someone PLEASE get this girl a muzzle i cannot with her
She’s literally so gross to me
Listening to her talk makes me believe women’s suffrage was a mistake
It’s such a shame and embarrassment that we give platforms to girls with nothing else going on besides being passably pretty.
They hover there for a few seconds, but it feels like I read them a thousand times, and they become an instant, awful mantra that etches into my bones.
“Shit. Sorry.” Aida frantically clicks away the text bubbles.
“I…” I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. I feel so small, so laughably tiny. My insignificance is like a fresh slap to raw skin as my mind repeats people’s worst opinions about me.
“I’m sorry, but I find this pretty fucked up.”