Chapter 14
My TikTok account is flourishing, and it’s all thanks to Megan and her breadcrumbs. Aside from playing up to the hot, maybe-single guy thing, I’m actually inspiring people to look into a new career – be that onstage or on a cruise ship – and I’m making them laugh with my commentary. And without Megan there to help last week, I added a link in my bio to donate to two charities – cancer research and her princess charity – because what’s the point in having a platform if you’re not gonna make a difference?
Maybe I should have asked her first. But I also don’t want Megan thinking I did it to win some kind of favour with her. I sneakily asked Harvey what his mom does and got the name of the charity that way, and I only searched as much as I needed to get a donation link, because even though I could have used the name of the charity to find out more about Megan, I can’t betray her like that.
Jeez, I’m obsessed with her. To the point I wanna call Mom and tell her I’m falling for the sweetest girl in the whole world. I’m in deep with aHarvey. Holy shit. There’s a portal at the entrance of this ship. There’s gotta be. Because there’s no way I would have willingly fallen for a Harvey before I came back here. No way.
Wait – would marrying Megan make Eliza my sister-in-law when she gets married to Harvey? We could even have a double wedding…
Okay, okay, slow down, Parks. We need to work on something else before we start planning the wedding.
I haven’t rushed to find our moment since our trip to the cave. It’s gotta be organic. I know Megan likes to plan everything, but maybe being spontaneous is the way to go. I’m aware that with each day that passes, she’s probably worrying it’s never gonna happen, though, so if she’s free tonight, I might spontaneously go for a sleepover in her private cabin.
I’m partway through this morning’s breakfast rave, adjudicating the cereal-box challenge, when Harvey enters the room. His gaze sweeps across the dance floor as if he’s on the hunt for something. Then his eyes land on me and he strides over. Ohhhh shit. He knows. Took him long enough. I prepared myself for this fight, but now it’s happening, I’m not ready for it.
His eyes burn into me as he gets closer. Not the face. Anywhere but the face. I steel my spine even though all my instincts are telling me to cower, and I stare up at him, tall fucker that he is.
“You need to take that video down. Now,” he demands, his face stern, jaw ticking.
“What video?”
“Which one do you think?”
Could I have…? No. I didn’t. Please tell me I didn’t. There’s the content I created to post, and then there’s the private montage I made with all the pictures and quick clips I’ve taken of me and Megan, and that was never meant to see the light of day until our wedding. From the daggers in Harvey’s eyes right now, I’m guessing I must’ve selected it by accident. Shit.
“I really like her, okay? We’re taking things slow. She’s allowed to make her own decisions.”
“That’s the least of my concerns right now.”
So what’s he this mad about?
“I didn’t mean to post it. I’ll take it down, okay? I get that you’re pissed, man, but it’s not that big of a deal.”
He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, choosing his next words carefully. “The fact you still don’t know why it’s a big deal is the exact reason I told you to stay away from her.”
“Stop talking in riddles.”
“She came here for a break from the trolls, and you led them right to her.”
My heart thumps impossibly hard, but it feels like it’s in my stomach, not my chest. “What do you mean? What?—?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I frantically search my pockets for my phone.
“Not here. Go!” Harvey barks.
I waste no time and head out, knowing he’s taking over my shift. I rush below deck, and as I fumble to buy a Wi-Fi package along the way, I crash into Eliza.
“Tom!” There’s an urgency to her voice, like she was sent to track me down too.
“How bad?”
“Bad.”
FUCK!
I hurry to my room and load up TikTok. Holy shit, I’ve not had a video blow up quite like this. I don’t bother to look – I archive it immediately. Then I take a deep breath to calm myself down.
Okay, it can’t do any more damage than it’s already done.
What are you running from, Princess?
I promised I wouldn’t dig, but I’m buried six feet under now, so I have to at least claw my way out of the shit pile I’ve landed us in. Needing to face how badly I’ve hurt Megan head-on, I take a look at the comments:
Yesss, girlfriend reveal! FINALLY!
I swear she looks like Gemma from Love Lodge.
It is! It’s her! The link in his bio is for the same charity she supports. Looks like she dyed her hair and ran away to work on a cruise ship. That tracks after what she did.
Why is he dating that psycho slut?
Tom, RUN. Get out while you still can.
Ugh, it’s always the crazy bitches with no personality that get the nice guy.
So that really is her name. She wasn’t jumbling her words, she slipped up. Regardless, how can people be so cruel? What could she possibly have done to upset this many people?
The search bar at the top of the comments reads “Gemma Harvey Love Lodge”, and I don’t waste a second before clicking it.
What is all this?Because that’s not Megan. But it looks and sounds like her… Except she’s blonde in these videos. I scroll and scroll through what feels like thousands of clips of her in a ski lodge with a bunch of other people. Is this some kind of game show? One minute she’s fighting with some guy; the next she’s…fuckinghim? Then she’s in bed with some other dude, and then crying over the first guy. She’s screaming about junk food and sugar but is then shown eating that same stuff a few seconds later. Yet somehow she looks gaunt, like she’s wasting away, and there’s no life behind her eyes. The next videos show her sabotaging others’ relationships, shouting and crying, storming off, and rolling her eyes.
I thought I knew her, but she’s…horrible.
I swipe up again, needing to find proof this isn’t her, that it’s just someone who looks like her, but I don’t find it. What on earth was she doing on a dating show?
“Gemma’s nothing but another bogus fitness influencer trying to promote a healthy lifestyle for show, while stuffing her face with crap and then sticking her fingers down her throat when you aren’t looking,” some girl says in her video with tens of thousands of likes and comments.
What?She doesn’t have a problem with food, does she? I think back to the day she went out with her team. There’s some kind of hang-up there, for sure. I’d put it down to anxiety rather than an eating disorder though. And she’s so into her fitness…which is how a lot of people control their weight when their eating is being monitored… But she got ice cream with me the other day. I guess I don’t know if she kept it down. I ache to think of what she might be doing to herself and wonder how many more secrets she’s been able to hide from me.
I can’t find her actual profile on TikTok, so I Google her, only to be confrontedby some of the most horrendous headlines. I should stop. I know I should stop.But then I find a link to an Instagram account – which I click – and confirm the woman I know as Megan is actually this Gemma person.
1.5 million people know who she is. And I was kept in the dark. Hurt cuts me like a knife.
“You would hate me if you knew me. Because everybody does.”
She tried to warn me, and I ignored her.
So have I met the new version of her or some fake so-and-so she’s impersonating until the noise dies down and she can go back to her normal life? I’m all for self-improvement, but a leopard never changes its spots. How long does she think she can keep up this new act? And what will it take for her real colours to show one day?
My head is spinning. I don’t know what to believe anymore, but I know what I have to do. She may be in the wrong for letting me get so close to someone she isn’t, but I fucked up by not checking my content before leaving that cafe – though I’m almost glad I didn’t now, because who knows how much longer she would have strung me along for? – and I owe her an apology.
I head to her room with my tail between my legs and my guard all the way up. She opens the door a crack, sees it’s me, and then closes it. I glimpse enough of her to notice the redness in her eyes, and my heart breaks for her. The version of her I knew anyway.
“Meg—” Nope. “Gemma. I think we should talk.” When there’s no reply, I continue to plead my case. “I didn’t mean to post it. It was an accident. I’ve taken it down. I’m so sorry. Please, just tell me how I can handle this.”
The door opens, and I step inside. My nerves prickle with unease. I should sit, but I’m almost scared to, so I stand awkwardly in the corner of the room while she sits on the edge of her bed.
“How do I fix this? I can do my best to put out the fire, but I’m scared I’ll only stoke it more.”
“You say nothing. This is it. This is the ultimate engagement opportunity for you. You posted a mysterious video with the most hated woman in the UK and deleted it. Everything we’ve been working towards was for one big video to kick it all off, and it’s finally happening. Now you have to stand back and watch the dominoes fall.”
“I can’t do nothing.”
She shrugs. “Yes, you can. Let them talk, let them feel sorry for you, and let them debate how on earth someone like you ended up with someone like me. People are going to make it their mission to analyse every single one of your videos now – in addition to whatever tales the scum who stalked me before I left decided to weave – and they’re going to tell their versions of the story despite having no involvement in it whatsoever. And then the next bunch of people will listen to all those theories and come up with even more. We’re not in charge of what’s next. They’ve lit their torches – you’ve just got to run with them now.”
“But at the cost of your safety? No. I want to make this right.”
“I promise you, defending me will only make it worse. So the two options you have are to give up and disappear or to keep going and let them get bored of asking,” she says, matter-of-fact.
Neither of those options feel like enough to repair the damage I’ve done.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, meaning it, but I’m not able to bring myself to comfort her with more than words.
Our eyes lock onto one another’s as the seconds drag on, and then something in her expression hardens.
“You believe it, don’t you?” she asks quietly, and I can’t tell if she’s amused or distraught. “What did you see?”
I don’t know where to start. I haven’t taken a second to process what I saw, nor to decide how I feel about it. I saw enough to see she’s not the person I thought she was, but I’m pretty sure I don’t need to state the obvious.
I sigh, completely defeated. “I didn’t even know your name.”
“So that’s that then.” There’s an edge to her voice as if her barriers have gone up too.
“I just need a second to take everything in. Is that allowed?”
She stays where she is but stretches out her arm, presenting the door to me, her expression completely flat.
“Are you offering me time or demanding I leave?”
She lowers her hand and turns her gaze on me, and it’s so empty it’s as if she’s turned to stone. “I don’t think it matters.”