22. THE ONE WITH FRANKIE’S MOM
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE ONE WITH FRANKIE’S MOM
HexedHeroine is tagged in a post: Read a rec from Hex that changed my brain chemistry last night… I hope she knows the good she brings to our lives!
Comment: I hope she knows we wanna know what’s going on with @WestParkerComedy
Comment reply: It’s been 72hrs dude chill let them breathe
The first step to moving forward, to changing this narrative and molding it into something I can work with, is facing it.
But before I face anything, I make a cup of coffee and roll a joint on my couch, because I’m not dumb enough to go to war with my emotions without either.
I start easy by responding to a few texts from friends. They’re mostly worried about me, which is endearing, but I’ll be fine, I tell them. It’s just a viral video!
Gaslighting myself won’t work forever, but it’s working for now, so I’ll take it.
I don’t have any blood family of my own who checks in on me, not since Grams passed.
She was all I had left. I was eighteen before starting senior year, so I was legally an adult, but couldn’t afford to live on my own, finish up my last year of high school, and stay on track for admission to the college of my dreams, while also mourning the loss of the woman who raised me.
If it weren’t for Frankie’s parents taking me in like their own, I’m not sure where I’d be.
They started calling me their plus-one when Frankie and I became best friends my second year of first grade. Most days after school, I’d go back to the Sullivan’s while Grams worked nights at Winn-Dixie, and she’d pick me up after her closing shift.
The message from Frankie’s mom has tears stinging my eyes from the very first line. It’s from Sunday night, getting mixed up in all the others I’ve been ignoring.
Marcia
Hi JoJo! Franceska said not to call you (How did she get so bossy?) but I wanted to check on you, regardless.
Marcia is the reason Frankie has a big personality, and she knows it.
I smile and puff a laugh through my nose.
Frankie’s mom is the oldest of six girls in an Italian-American family from New Jersey.
She was also one of the top Surgical Oncologists at Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida up until she turned seventy and decided it was time to join her husband in retirement.
The Sullivan’s left Florida a couple years ago and moved to Charlotte where Frankie’s two older brothers live, running their own private practice with their wives, and raising kids who will also probably all be doctors.
Marcia
Don’t answer that. Anyway, you looked stunning in the video, and I really think that West boy likes you Is the tattoo on your calf new? Love it!
I glance down at the lightning shattered mirror representing one of my favorite fantasy series. It is in fact new.
Marcia
I’m sorry this happened to you, but I know, in true Jo fashion, you’re going to turn this into something spectacular.
My vision blurs, but I blink the tears away so I can continue reading.
Marcia
I love you and am just as proud of you now as I’ve always been. Take back your power however you need, but please remember to take some time for yourself during all of this. You’re strong, not invincible. See you for Thanksgiving at the cabin?
I lose the fight against my tears and drop my phone in the fluffy black blanket across my lap. Marcia’s words strike something in me, reminding me I haven’t grieved what I feel I’ve lost.
So, that’s what I do—I grieve. I sit on my couch, and I cry.
I grieve losing a job I loved. Maybe not at the end, but when I left my secure position in marketing to transition to social media, I did. I had so much hope for my future at Vyce. I saw something the others lost to greed.
I grieve losing my protected online identity. I don’t have to lose Hex completely, but she’s no longer a secret, no longer someone I get to keep to myself. She’s no longer a comfort blanket.
Hex is strong, fierce, confident, and not afraid of what the world thinks of her. She’s everything Jo tries to be. Hex is who I wish I could be all the time, not a mask I wear when I’m scared.
And last, I grieve losing a man I just met, because I’ll never be able to let him in. West might be exactly what I need, but I’ll never know because I won’t let myself have him.
I can’t be left behind again. I’m sick of being hurt, sick of being traded in for the next best thing.
I’d rather be alone. I’m probably better off that way.
Once I feel like I’ve cried enough for the year, I respond to Marcia’s text, letting her know I’ll see her at the cabin in Gatlinburg for Thanksgiving, wipe my face, eat a gummy, put a cold mask on to help with facial swelling, and watch reruns of Game Changer until the edible wears off.
Then I force myself to pick up my phone again.
Staring at my screen until it goes black from inactivity makes me groan. “You’re being ridiculous.”
I tap the screen and it unlocks. This time, I click the first, and most popular app in my social media lineup and hold my breath.
The notification bar pops up showing numbers I didn’t think the app could count to across messages, followers, likes, and mentions. I check my follower count first, easing myself in.
I’ve had hundreds of viral videos before. I’ve gotten messages and comments ranging from real sugar daddy offers to, kill yourself, you dirty whore from accounts with no profile pictures.
Social media hardens you, and I always felt lucky that at least no one knew who I was, that I got to hide and let Hex tackle the hate, giving the piece of me who’s sick of being tough a break.
On one platform alone, I went from 1.2 million followers to 1.6 million. I gained over 400,000 followers in four fucking days.
I blink, expecting the number to change into something more believable.
A ton of my videos have spiked in popularity again, earning more badges from the app as a reward.
Fucking insane. This is an impossible scenario, an anomaly no one could replicate if they tried.
I’ll be at two million by next week if the trend keeps its upward climb.
I flip over to West’s account. He’s up half-a-million followers, teetering close to 700,000 in total. He’ll be getting the little magic M on his account soon.
We’ve both been silent, keeping our online communities chattering about theories and engaging with our old content.
They went crazy for the picture someone got of me in the yellow dress at West’s show. Thank fucking god I hadn’t given up and put my biker shorts back on!
Comment: Hex is the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life… And I’m a straight married mom of 4.
Comment: SLUT ALWAYS WITH HER TITS OUT
His profile picture is exactly what I’d expect from a comment like that.
Comment: She’s glowing, but pls @HexedHeroine plsss come back we miss you! What are we reading next??? We’re lost without you!
Comment: Marry her @WestParkerComedy or her book babes will
Jesus Christ, they’re shipping us. I’m being shipped with West fucking Parker.
And I better get used to it, because my job for the next two months starting Friday is to do whatever it takes to make Hex and West Parker household names.
A few of West’s videos have spiked to over a million views, and he’s been tagged in a ton of videos and pictures by fans.
The latest tag is a video from a comedy club in London called LOL.
“London, thanks for giving me a reason to laugh again! I’ll see you when I make it back across the pond, okay?
” His smile is infectious, warming my face as I watch him.
“Wear your seatbelt, don’t drink and drive, and tell your mom I said hi.
” He waves one last time, puts the mic back in its stand, bows to the packed theater, and disappears offstage before the video starts over.
LOLondon: Forever grateful the opener never showed up to a sold out show & @WestParkerComedy was funny enough to step out from behind the bar and entertain a crowd of two hundred on the spot with no performing experience and nothing planned.
This is West’s final home club show at LOLondon!
We miss you already! Don’t forget about us!
The video has over a million views.
I read some of the top comments, and not everyone’s nice to West. A lot of jealous looking frat bros comment things like: he’s not even funny! Or, I bet he’s compensating for a small dick!
This is child’s play compared to what I have in store for me, and I know it. I’m a woman who uses her body and sex appeal to her advantage online. People hate it.
If it’s a man doing it, it’s fine, encouraged even. The second it’s a woman then it’s a problem, and we should think about the children!
Plus, I can confirm the last comment is a billion percent untrue. West definitely has the biggest dick I’ve ever seen in real life, and he knows what to do with it. He also knows what to do with his fingers, and his tongue, and… Bad!
I shake my head like it’ll rattle the thoughts out, and then gather some information about West’s account, making notes in the app I had him download for organized storage. Getting into a work headspace is good for me. It’s giving me a task to complete, keeping the anxiety at bay for now.
From West’s tagged videos, I find the one that started it all.
Twenty million views. In four days.
My most viewed video is six million, with lots over the million-view mark scattered in.
We’re going to have to try to get a few more videos like this on tour…
I let it play, setting my phone’s volume to max. I feel like I’m seeing it through a new pair of eyes now, catching details I hadn’t the three times I’d watched it standing in my kitchen with an audience.
The video starts with West on his knees, then cuts to him pretending to pray. “Do you want me to beg? I’m already on my knees.” West’s voice is deep in person, but it registers even lower here.
Objectively, if this weren’t me but another woman, I’d definitely ship them too…
I’m in my chair, arms crossed, looking as uninterested as I could possibly be. But what I hadn’t noticed while it was happening or when I watched the first times, was the corner of my lips pulling into a playful smile as our banter intensified.
It catches my leg grazing West’s and the clench of his jaw when it happens. He towers over me, phone in hand, and bites his lip. I had to have blacked out to miss that the first time—I’m a complete sucker for West and his lip bites. “Joey, you dirty, dirty girl.”
All the details I’d missed haven’t been missed by our millions of viewers.
I finally take a plunge into the comments.
Comment: I think at least 1,000 of these views are from me
Comment: Who’s writing this book? I’ll preorder it RIGHT NOW!
Comment: Anyone else really sad Hex got doxxed? Hope she’s okay!
There’s an assortment of bookish accounts who comment something similar.
Some defend against people blaming West, while others dog me for all sorts of reasons, but the biggest question people want answered is, are West Parker and HexedHeroine dating?
I come across candid pictures of myself throughout the weekend in the comments. In the yellow dress at the bar after night one, in the black mini coming out of the club after night two.
It’s jarring, going from being masked to having my face plastered all over with the name Josette Daniels attached to Hex.
I’m not sure if the complexity of this situation has hit me yet or when it will, but I’m back to feeling semi-numb as I continue to peruse our accounts.
My DMs are as I expect them to be: messy and overrun.
Before I exit though, a profile picture catches my eye. I tap on it so fast my phone doesn’t catch the urgency, and I have to tap again.
It’s the girl who posted the video, and the message is from Saturday—the morning it went viral.
HanahJane99: Hi Hex, I’m Hanah. I understand if you read this message, never respond, and block me, but I needed to personally apologize for what’s happening.
I’ve been a fan of West’s since his first Boston show last year.
I thought the interaction between the two of you was electric and maybe he’d get some views from it.
I truly had no idea who you were, and figured if you were an influencer with a big following, it wouldn’t matter if people recognized you…
I realize now it absolutely did matter, and I might have ruined someone’s life.
I’m so so so so so so sorry.
I click on her profile picture, navigating to the video of her super cute and fluffy dog. It’s got five million views with thousands of comments tearing her apart.
I rest my hands in my lap, sighing. “Fuck.”
It was an accident. It wasn’t done with malicious intent. It was a young fan hoping to give their favorite comedian exposure, and now she’s being bullied on the internet by people who have taken my silence as a need to protect me.
I lock my phone screen, get off the couch, and cross the apartment to my second bedroom. I open the closet door, flip the light on, plug my phone in at the desk, and turn some music on.
I can’t wait any longer to take Marcia’s advice.
It’s time to take my power back.