I tidied my makeup and hair using the camera on my phone, rolling my eyes at the live image it captured and reflected. I much preferred my professional makeup artist and his skills. My comfort zone involved coordinating outfits, picking suitable accessories, and otherwise sticking to the fashions. In other words, it meant staying in my lane.

Ready, I logged into UpTube, surprising my followers with a live stream. As the number of fans quickly rose into the tens of thousands, I smiled, putting on my welcome-to-my-wonderful-life face. My almond-shaped brown eyes and the expertly placed eyelashes grabbed my attention much like they've done the masses.

Beyond the forced smile and the intact veneer, I was aware of something bubbling beneath the surface. I couldn't put my finger on it, but a part of me didn't want to dig deeper in fear of discovering a harsh truth I wasn't ready to face.

Luck was on my side, especially since meeting Nolan fresh out of graduate school with a degree in business management. Luck was him seeing potential in me, taking a chance on what I offered, and putting all his skills into catapulting my career. Luck was falling in love with such a stunning, intelligent, boss-type who looked out for my best interests despite the ten-year age gap. What right did I have to complain when so many people would die to be in my position?

The comb of my hair extension dug into my scalp and I ignored it and widened my grin. "Hey, guys. It's Rhea here." My bright teeth lightened up the screen even if it was by slim contrast. "I just wanna pop in to say sorry for missing the live stream earlier. Let me tell you, fashion week is such a super big week for me and I'm doing everything to prepare and bring you all such amazing looks. I was so fortunate to have Nolan here to fill in for me earlier." I angled the phone to allow Nolan to lean into the frame. "Don't know what I'd do without him."

"Hey, guys!" His grin made me smile wider.

I watched the hundreds of messages scroll by in the chat. Most of the comments were different variations of the same thing.

"You're beautiful."

"She's so pretty."

"I heart Rhea and Nolan."

"Rhea and Nolan forever."

"Stunning."

"#Couple Goals."

Only a few messages dared to ask, "How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

"Aw, thanks, guys. Uh, I'm actually feeling..." I shook my head, absentmindedly rubbing my temple until I noticed and stopped. Portions of my dream replayed in my head—thick blood-red hair floating around the woman's head like tentacles—and I questioned how honest or cryptic I should be. I leaned forward, getting comfortable on the sofa. "Have any of you ever experienced something so unbelievable it made you second guess yourself?" Instead of searching the comments for answers, I continued. "I mean, you believe you have a good head on your shoulders. You're a smart person, right? You know you're making the right decisions, but it's like a guilty conscious or something that's keeping you from seeing what's right in front of your eyes? Well, maybe you see it, and you know it's there, but you doubt it, and feel like it's best to ignore it and move on?"

Curious to see if they could relate, I scanned the incoming comments as they zoomed by.

"Are you ok, Rhea?"

"Is she talking about her relationship?"

"We stan Rhelan! Rhelan forever!"

I imagined the viewers behind the keyboard and wondered what their young and receptive minds might have conjured up. Maybe they didn't understand, or worse, maybe they didn't care. They showed up for a good time, that meant they wanted fun and fashion. No one wanted to discuss serious matters at a time like this.

I didn't clarify their questions and concerns, feeling comfort in the fact no one besides Nolan knew I may have stroked out and began seeing things. There was no need to go any deeper than I had, anyway. I mostly needed to vent, to get those thoughts and feelings off my chest.

My eyes shifted from the comments, and I thought aloud. "I mean, I guess ignoring it would only do so much, especially if I know the truth. I must sound crazy, but..." I stared ahead at a misty, shadowy shape as it materialized in front of me. The faint outline of a humanoid body hovered feet above the ground. I shook my head and looked back at my phone, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

The comments continued rolling in. "What's wrong, Rhea? Are you okay?" Over and over, messages filled with concern and curiosity scrolled by. "What's wrong with her? I don't think she's well. You look like you saw a ghost."

I shook my head, on the brink of letting it all spill out of my mouth, but knowing better. "There's just so much I wish I could share with you—" the phone disappeared from my hand before I could finish my thought.

"Nolan!" I stared at the phone in his hand as he turned it off without so much as a pause. "Seriously?"

"What are you doing?" He shook his head, frustration etched into his forehead with a couple of worry lines. "You're supposed to rectify your previous mistake. Not make new ones. Rambling on like that is going to make you lose your sponsorships. All the big brands."

"I was just talking, Nolan." I glared at the black screen of my phone in his grip. "When did talking become such a bad thing?"

"No, you were not just talking. You were going on a tangent about nonsense, and we can't have that." He huffed, pacing back and forth by the coffee table. "You need to remember you are a professional, not a fucking high school vlogger."

"What are you talking about? Why are you so angry?"

Talking to my fans and being personable, and even relatable, had always been a part of my brand. That's how I started on UpTube, by sharing my thoughts along with my fashions. There were probably many members of my audience that preferred I didn't share my thoughts, but regardless, that part of me had been a part of my time as Rhea since the start.

"You were gonna tell them about that woman you thought you saw." He paused and shook his head. "That's crazy, Rhea. We can't have your fans or the fucking industry elite thinking you're losing your mind. You know how important this week is to your career. You can't go around telling everyone you're having a mental breakdown."

A mental breakdown?

"I wasn't gonna say anything." I scoffed, not surprised that we couldn't go one weekend without an argument. The look on his face said so much. Did his intense stare come from a fear that I was getting sick or concern about the business? I extended my arm, displaying my palm. "Can I have my phone back?"

"I think I'll hold on to it for the time being." He pocketed it.

"You got to be joking." I waited for another angry remark, but he silently strolled back toward the kitchen instead. Maybe I would try a different tactic, using the magic word. "Can I please have my phone back?" I didn't know what I would do with it once I got it, but having my property back in my grasp had become my mission.

"I'm only looking out for you, Rhea." His calm voice took me off guard, although it was direct. "You'll thank me later."

My mind immediately took me back to an argument we had a few weeks ago. After I had made a batch of red chili chicken wings and invited him to sit down and enjoy them with me. Instead of indulging, he grabbed my plate as soon as I lifted a chicken wing from it and tossed the entire dish into the trash. His only explanation? "I'm looking out for you. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

"Nolan, give me my phone." This time, I put fire behind my words. "Just give it to me."

He paused, staring unblinkingly. "You want your phone back?"

"Yes."

"You want it back that bad?"

"Yes. I do."

He pulled it from his pocket. "Then bloody have it." He drew his arm back and pitched the phone through the air like a baseball. It met its target, landing in the center of my gut.

I buckled over from the sudden blow, clutched my stomach, and gasped for air. Not caring for the phone anymore, struggling for a proper breath had become my sole concern.

"Aw, fuck." He rushed to my side. "Sorry, Babe. I didn't mean to—"

I shrugged his hand from my shoulder and pushed him away as I made my way to the bathroom, where I closed the door behind me, locking it. He had promised, sworn, and vowed not to hurt me again. He lied.

~~~

Please share your thoughts in a comment! What would you do or say if you were Rhea?