Beth takes me by the elbow. “Melanie,” she chides. “We don’t have problems. Not in public. It’s unbecoming.” She gives me the side eye. “Jesus. Who raised you?”
“But I do have a problem.” I hold up my phone. “I only have eight hundred and two followers. I need to have more.”
“Have you been posting?”
I show her my feed. I feel a wicked rage for recognition building.
She studies my photos and then says, “You probably need to reconsider your filters. Remember I said sunny and bright?”
“But how do I get followers?”
“My God,” she huffs. She crosses the ballroom. I follow on her heel. “Give me the phone.”
I hand it to her and watch as her fingers work their magic. “Here,” she says. “I just bought you ten thousand.”
“That’s it? Ten thousand? You said some people have millions.”
Beth look
