The Do-Over(57)
Author: Suzanne Park
I shook my head. “Please don’t mention last night in any capacity. I never want to see red velvet cake again.”
She laughed as her phone buzzed three times in a row. “Jesus. How viral could that Carlthorpe Courier celebrity sighting blog post be?” She unlocked her phone and clicked a few times, then rubbed her chin. “Okay, so today just turned worse, which I didn’t think was possible.”
“Is it about me?” I asked.
She nodded. “This might be harder to do than I thought. But don’t panic. If I can spin a famous fashion TikToker’s rehab and a start-up founder’s random hookup as ‘self-exploration,’ I can help you through this.”
Nausea hit me hard when I saw the photo of Ethan and me leaving Solv’s Manhattan office building. It was on SpottedinTheBigApple’s Instagram account, which was a place where exclusive society news about moderately interesting celeb types who lived in New York could be found. It worked sort of like Reddit, where news stories that received the most likes and engagement would be the stories they showcase on social media. A year ago, it would have been an honor to be featured on SpottedinTheBigApple and I would have died to have a ton of “upvotes.” But now? It was a liability. Why was I even on their radar in the first place?
The first part of the caption under the photo poked fun at me for carrying one of those old-school leather portfolios under my arm that people used in TV show legal depositions.
Okay, that was kind of funny.
“At least you and Ethan look hot in the photo,” she added.
Not helpful, Mia. But yes, it is a good picture.
More concerning than the photo was the rest of the caption. “Spotted: Lily Lee at Solv HQ. Is she working on a secret (!) book? Interviewing employees or . . . interviewing for a position there? We did some sleuthing and scoured the job descriptions on Solv’s website and saw an open HEAD OF STRATEGY position, which we think makes total sense given Lee’s skill set. But there’s more! We also uncovered this recent blog post from Carlthorpe Courier about Lily’s latest whereabouts on the local campus. Why is she on campus four hours away if she’s also in NYC? More news to come (make sure you like and comment to upvote!).”
The post had just gone live in the morning, and unfortunately the engagement was high. There were people speculating on whether I was writing two books: one about tech companies and one about academia. Others thought I was consulting. And, of course, the trolls were out doing their thing, less speculating, more commenting about how I was an underqualified woman taking jobs away from more qualified men. So far, no one had put two and two together to actually connect my CS class with my internship candidacy at Solv. But it was only a matter of time.
I pleaded, “Give it to me straight. In your professional opinion and as my best friend, how screwed am I?”
She put her phone down. “Professionally speaking, it’s too early to say. I’d recommend that we get ahead of this, maybe post something in the next twenty-four hours about why you’re back on campus. We should have done that earlier, and damn, that’s on me for not thinking it might come to this. The level of disclosure is up to you, but I’d recommend being as honest as possible without disclosing all the nitty-gritty details. As a friend, I can offer you a giant hug and say I have your back no matter what.” Mia wrapped her arms around my body and squeezed. “I think I fucked up, I’m so sorry.”
I swallowed hard. “All of this is not on you. It’s on me too. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that adults like us wing it every day. Even though we pretend to have some control over our lives and good judgment from years of life experience, things just go wrong. For me, all the time. Mistakes happen. Risks don’t pay off. And we have to somehow keep going. Sadly, this will go on forever until we die.”
She let out a weak laugh. “Well, that was insightful, and disturbingly morbid. Maybe we need Beth in here for a pep talk. Any other ideas on what we can do to make this go away? My brain is not cooperating at the moment.”
Usually I was asking her for advice, not the other way around. “Maybe I should just run away, like Maria does in The Sound of Music.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I hate to break it to you, but there are no convents to run away to within driving distance of Carlthorpe. To be honest, I don’t even know if they exist in real life at all in this country, but we have other things to worry about than googling abbey locations right now. Oh! And remember? That crazy-ass Maria came back! I would have ghosted permanently.”
My shoulders slumped. “Yeah, true. Okay, how bad is all of this, really, on a scale of one to ten? Be truthful, like you always are.” I winced, anticipating her answer.
She flinched. “Ten out of ten. You get a perfect score.”
* * *
MIA AND I recorded the final take of a short video, coming clean about my college situation, and were trying to upload it when we realized it was too late.
I was tagged in several posts at once. Each headline read like a smack across the face.
IS LILY LEE A FEMINIST OR A FRAUD? Slap!
SENIORITIS STRIKES LILY LEE AS SHE RETURNS TO CAMPUS. Whack!
HOW LILY LEE’S EDUCATION HOAX FOOLED US ALL: WHY WE SHOULD BAN HER BOOKS. Punch! Thwack!
My hands trembled as I continued doomscrolling. Each of these clickbait blog titles and social media grabby posts read like front-page newspaper headlines, shouting directly at me, pronouncing me a huge fake and a pathetic scam artist to the whole world. Every major failure in my life that left me an insecure mess came roaring back into my mind. Getting knocked out of the citywide spelling bee, ironically by the word “disappoint.” Being second or third chair in the flute section all throughout high school band, never number one. And let’s not forget my sister’s MD/PhD, compared to my college dropout status. I couldn’t get a job. Couldn’t fulfill my book contract. And now I had no life to go back to anymore. Without my reputation and status, I had nothing. What I’d thought about myself for years was exactly how others saw me too.
Fraud.
Imposter.
Fake.
Everything was fully spelled out in the world exactly as I saw it in my head, in pithy sound bites in various news outlets and social media for everyone to see.
It was Mia who broke down crying first. “I’m so, so sorry I let you down. I thought we could get ahead of it.”
Mia openly showing her feelings caused me to burst into tears soon after, and the pressure compressing my chest, plus the sense of doom lodged deep inside me, let up a little as more tears flowed. Crying was more therapeutic than I’d realized.