Derek’s words, “We’re going to war together,” still hung in the air of my kitchen—a vow made in the fragile morning light. We had barely moved, standing in the wreckage of our personal awkwardness, now united against a common, unknown foe.
That’s when the phones erupted.
Not a call. A synchronized, violent eruption of buzzes and chimes from both our devices on the counter—a digital barrage of notifications.
The war hadn’t been declared. It had already begun.
The cold dread that followed was immediate. We looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. He reached for his phone. I reached for mine.
My screen was a waterfall of alerts from gossip blogs, social media tags, and news alerts. The first headline made my stomach drop.
@ManhattanGossipGal: OMG SPOTTED! Sterlin
