I hadn’t agreed to launch anything... I hadn’t signed a form or a contract or even whispered approval in my sleep, but that didn’t stop her... Jynelle went ahead and hijacked my name, my blurry Pinterest board of vague business fantasies, my half-formed dream I was still too emotionally constipated to claim... and turned it into an event with a guest list, a red carpet, and an actual goat in a hoodie... I drove up to the venue and I swear on all that is holy and unholy there was a line... a line of influencers... like ring-light-wielding digital warriors ready to fight for a skincare PR box and a glittery cocktail... and Jynelle was there in a floor-length leopard robe and sunglasses that could blind God, holding a clipboard like she was running Milan Fashion Week instead of my accidental
