Chapter 25: Two Blind Mice

Eric kicked up his feet on the couch and scrolled back through his DM history for the timestamp he was seeking. It must have been around noon when he'd sent Tessa that first DM – five minutes after @EricThorn had tweeted his #HappyHoliday message to the world.

12/3/13, 11:57 AM

Taylor: This fandom is so f'ed up.

Tessa: What happened?

Taylor: They're animals. Bunch of bitches in heat.

Tessa: Who?

Taylor: The fangirls!

Tessa: OK....

Taylor: I think I might vomit.

Tessa: Are you going to tell me what happened?

Taylor: I mean he's a human being. Can't they just wish him a Merry Christmas? It's disgusting, some of the shit they tweet at him. 

Tessa: Well I wished him a Merry Christmas.

Taylor: Did you reply to him? I didn't see.

She'd answered by sending him a screenshot of her most recent tweet:

Tessa H (@TessaHeartsEric)
@EricThorn All I want for Christmas is to see a smile on your face tonight. Love you! Merry Christmas!

Eric felt the corners of his mouth quirk upward in an involuntary grin as he re-read the message. What was it about Tessa? She must have some kind of supernatural power, the way she could slice through his mood and reduce him to a grinning idiot with a few simple words.

He hadn't put it quite that way at the time.

Taylor: You're a sweetheart. The rest of them can rot.

Tessa: Oh, so I'm not a bitch in heat?

Taylor: I wasn't talking about you. You know you're a special case.

Tessa: Not really.

Taylor: You're isolated. You're on twitter for therapeutic reasons. That's different.

Tessa: You think I'm the only Eric Thorn fan that's here for therapeutic reasons?

Taylor: No? Who else? Are there crazy ones I should know about??

Tessa: Everyone I talk to is on here because of something. Teenagers who don't fit in at school... lonely housewives whose husbands are never home... You don't think they feel isolated?

Taylor: It's not exactly the same thing.

Tessa: People join fandoms to connect with other people. We're all here because there's something wrong in our real life. Something missing.

Taylor: So they tweet smut about a celebrity? Couldn't they join a book club or something?

Tessa: What "they"? You think you're so different?

Taylor: Oh no. I'm not part of this fandom. My username is @EricThornSucks. This is not a fan account.

Tessa: Then you tell me, Taylor. What are you even doing on twitter?

Taylor: I'm talking to you.

Tessa: "You help me deal with my shit. I help you deal with your shit."

Taylor: What are you quoting?

Tessa: I'm quoting you. That's what you said when I asked you what you wanted. So don't tell me you're not here for therapeutic reasons too.

Taylor: Wait, are you mad at me right now?

Tessa: No. I just wish you didn't have this holier-than-thou attitude sometimes. I honestly don't get where it comes from.

Taylor: I'm sorry. I just feel bad for the guy, that's all. How is all that filthy stuff supposed to make him feel?

Tessa: I don't know. Probably flattered.

Taylor: Did you see that one who's been tweeting lately? @EricThornPorn? She doesn't even bother with words half the time. It's just a picture of female genitalia made out of parentheses and brackets.

Tessa: Oh her. Yeah. She's kind of scary.

Taylor: See? No one's tweeting dick pics at Ariana Grande. If they did they'd get arrested. But Eric's a guy, so he's just supposed to be "flattered."

Tessa: Ohhhhh. I think I might know what this is really about...

Taylor: I'm guessing you probably don't.

Tessa: Yes I do.

Taylor: What?

Tessa: You're jealous!

Taylor: Yeah, Tessa. That must be it. I'm jealous of Eric Thorn. Because it's every guy's dream to have a bunch of psychotic women tweet parenthetical porn at him.

Tessa: :)

Taylor: What's that for?

Tessa: You're kinda cute when you get all riled up

Taylor: Well, you're kinda cute in general, but that doesn't mean I'm smiling right now.

Tessa: Liar

Taylor: :(

Tessa: Oh stop. It's not like Eric ever even sees his mentions. I'm sure he has people running his account for him.

Taylor: I guarantee you he sees some of it.

Tessa: Why? He never replies. He barely even tweets at all anymore.

Taylor: And why do you think that is? Seriously, he could tweet the word "Lamp" and 1000 girls would reply within 30 seconds asking him to sleep with them.

Tessa: Lamp?

Taylor: You know it's true.

Tessa: No. I think they'd mostly just ask him to follow them.

Taylor: Right. "Follow me!!!! (so I can DM and ask you to f*** me!!!!!)"  Isn't that the whole reason people ask celebrities to follow?

Tessa: I think you're overgeneralizing

Taylor: And then they complain that he never follows fans. Hmmm. Go figure.

Tessa: But he wanted to be famous! That was his dream. I'm sure he loves the attention.

Taylor: You don't know that.

Tessa: And you do? 

Taylor: He was just a kid when he got his record deal. Do you think he really understood what fame would be like? Like to the point that it's not even about the music at all? It's just about his pecs and how he did his hair that day?

Tessa: That's not true

Taylor: Be honest. Would you have any interest in him if you didn't know what he looked like?

Tessa: I talk to you, don't I? Because you have interesting things to say. And so does Eric. I listen to his music every single day.

Taylor: You must be the only one then...

Taylor: I'm telling you, Tessa. He could literally make a music video where he strips naked and hangs himself from a meat hook next to a bunch of sides of beef...

Taylor: And none of these so-called "music fans" would even get the irony. To hell with symbolism...

Taylor: They'd all just see him with his shirt off and scream "he's so hot!" and post a bunch of screenshots on Instagram.

Tessa: Are you done?

Taylor: Sure.

Tessa: OK Taylor. Then let me ask you this. Why does he put his sex life into his song lyrics, if he really feels so objectified?

Taylor: What sex life??

Tessa: Um, have you heard Aloe Vera?

Taylor: You think that song's about a woman? C'mon Tessa. You're smarter than that.

Tessa: Pretty sure it's not about a man.

Taylor: Not a man... maybe THE man.

Tessa: Wha????

Taylor: There's more than one way to get screwed. That's all I'm saying.

Tessa: OK. So... now he got screwed by THE man?

Taylor: "You said baby take your clothes off. Get rid of those tan lines."

Tessa: I'm so lost right now.

Taylor: Who told him to take his clothes off?

Tessa: How should I know? Ariana Grande? :P

Taylor: All I know is, he was just this shy kid with an acoustic, and then he got signed by a major label, and the next thing you know he's prancing around the stage half-naked all the time.

Tessa: Wait. So you think his record label told him to take his clothes off?

Taylor: Think about it. "I fell asleep to the sound of your voice whispering to me."

Tessa:  So he feels like they seduced him with a bunch of sweet talk?

Taylor: Maybe

Tessa: But the rest of it? "You left me there to blister. Ran off with the only key?"

Taylor: Right. They locked him in. To his RECORD DEAL.

Tessa: OMG Taylor. Are you kidding me right now?

Taylor: What? It totally fits!

Tessa:  Talk about projecting.

Taylor: How is this projecting?

Tessa: Because YOU feel trapped by YOUR job. You're talking about YOU. Eric Thorn is not YOU. Get it through your head!

Eric laughed out loud now as he read her message again. Projecting. Tessa's favorite word. She thought she was so damned smart.

"Oh Tessa," he chuckled at the phone. "Tessa, Tessa, Tessa. I love you."

His breath caught in his chest for a moment as he realized what he'd said. Just a figure of speech, of course. He didn't really mean that, did he?

Did he?

Tessa: You seriously think Eric's out there somewhere getting ready to go on live TV tonight, and he's secretly hating every second and wishing he could quit?

Taylor: Hey, you're the one who's always saying how unhappy he looks.

Tessa: But because of a girl or something. Not this! Not because he secretly hates being famous! I mean, he could just walk away if he hated it so much.

Taylor: Yeah. And you could just go for a walk outside right now if you hate being cooped up in your room so much.

Tessa: Not funny.

Taylor: I'm just saying, life isn't always that simple. Sometimes people get trapped by circumstances beyond their control.

Tessa: That's got to be one of the most depressing things you've ever said :/

Taylor: Sorry.

Tessa: So why did you start a fan account if you think we're all secretly driving Eric Thorn to suicide?

Taylor: It's not a fan account. It's a hate account. How many times do I have to explain this to you?

Tessa: Right. And I'm sure it makes him feel really warm and fuzzy when he's scrolling through his mentions and sees a tweet from @EricThornSucks.

Taylor: I thought you said he never sees his mentions.

Tessa: Whatever

Taylor: Aha!

Tessa: You're a jerk :P

Taylor: Yes, but an entertaining jerk. Admit it.

Tessa: Eric Thorn doesn't suck. You suck.

Taylor: I agree with the second half of that statement.

Eric smiled again as his eyes scanned down through the rest of their banter. She really did have him giggling like a schoolgirl, didn't she? Just like Maury said. . . .

What else had Maury said?

"Write them a love song about something real."

It wasn't the worst advice. The faintest spark of an idea had just popped into Eric's mind. Maybe. . . .

He'd called the song Snowflakes, but maybe that was the problem. Maybe it should be Snowflake. Singular. A song about feeling cold and alone, and finding that one perfect snowflake in the middle of a raging blizzard.

A love song?

Was it possible?

But what else could it be? He couldn't deny that he thought about her all day long. Didn't matter what he was doing, or with whom. All he ever wanted was five minutes alone to talk to Tessa.

Eric squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, afraid to examine the thought any more closely. All this time, he'd used his loneliness to justify this connection he had with her. He felt just as isolated as she did, in a way. He talked to her because he needed to talk to someone. Anyone.

But it was obviously more than that. There was a reason he kept coming back to her for more. The lives they led could not have been more different, but something between them resonated. Two blind mice who'd both stumbled into their own traps, and now they'd gotten stuck.

The details didn't matter so much, did they? He didn't know the exact details about her life either. She still hadn't told him what had happened to cause her agoraphobia.

But he understood somehow, without having to be told. He understand her, and she understood him. Not because of some sixth sense. It was because, deep down, they were the same.

She sensed it too, he knew. She'd said it herself in one of her messages. He'd been blustering about the fans, but she'd knocked the wind right out of him. Her words had come back to haunt his thoughts all afternoon.

"We're all here because there's something wrong in our real life," she'd said. "You think you're so different?"

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