Page 8 of Fangirl

Me: I don’t appreciate you questioning my intelligence. I wasn’t eventhat mean. I genuinely asked if anyone knew whether his acting range went beyond what we’ve seen on-screen.

Okay, in retrospect, it’s a leading question that implies he has the emotional range of celery, but I didn’t actually say it.

Me: You fans should be a little less sensitive.

For good measure.

His reply comes almost instantly.

Mod002: Less sensitive? That’s rich coming from someone using “AnlonDeservesBetter” as a username.

I suck in a breath, my cheeks burning.

Oh, that lands.

Mod002 is looking for war.

I crack my knuckles again, gearing up for battle, when I see the three dots bouncing on the screen, another message incoming.

Mod002: Full disclosure: I’m not a fan. I couldn’t care less about Jake Hollander or his roles. I’m a paid mod.

I narrow my eyes at the screen, unsure if that makes things better or worse.

Me: Obviously not a very good one if you let the threats go on for that long before closing the thread. I’ve got hundreds of hateful emails to delete.

Mod002: Consider this a lesson in internet warfare.

I blink.

A lesson?

Me: Oh, so you did me a favor by letting them rip me apart?

Mod002: Please. I shut it down before it got too bad. You’ll survive.

Me: Right. Because death threats are just mild inconveniences.

Mod002: If I reported every overdramatic stan in this forum, I’d be out of a job.

Damn. That one is cocky. He has to be a man.

I mutter at the screen, my fingers twitching to type back.

Then I glance at my now-empty coffee cup.

Nope.I do not have enough caffeine in my system for this.

I stand up and head for the coffee machine, scratching Pea behind his ear as the cup starts to fill.

The warm, soothing aroma of robusta permeates the room, grounding me.

I huff out a small laugh. “That boy is an ass… but it’s entertaining.”

I enjoy bantering through the screen.

If this happened in real life?

I’d stammer an apology and walk away, cursing myself for not putting my foot down.