“jen_xoxo tagged you in a tweet.” I stare at the screen and wonder who this Jen person is. I don’t remember following her. I don’t even know her. I open the notification and clicked on her profile. I stalk her for a bit and now I remember. She was my seat mate back in sophomore year. It was advanced Algebra III. It was a special class, the kind for extra credits. I’m usually not the type to go and grab some extra credits but I was failing my Algebra 1 classes due to tardiness and late submissions of homework. If I wanted to pass sophomore year then I needed some extra credit. There were other easier alternatives to get extra credit but it involved socializing and that wasn’t my best suit so, I opted for advanced Algebra III even if it risked my brain from overheating. Enough flashbacks and back to the notification. I went back to the tagged tweet and there I see a post of another account and under that was a picture of two females just getting out from the local hardware store, Homebuds. Why would she tag me in this? I read jen_xoxo’s caption to get an idea on why on earth would she tag me in a tweet when
1. We are not that close and,
2. The last time we spoke was a year ago.
Our interactions were solely out of necessity which is why I am confused that her name is suddenly in my notifications. I read the caption, “Dis u?”. Okay, now I’m really confused. Why the hell would she - oh no. I suddenly remember last week. It was a Tuesday. I had no classes in the afternoon and mom had asked me to go shopping with her for a bedside table and some pillows for her new couch that she ordered from her designer friend in Switzerland. Nordic design is the trend now in the furniture industry, apparently.
I look back to the photo. I look at it closely, squinting and zooming in on the picture. Sweet. Baby. Jebus. It really is my mother and I leaving the hardware store. It looks like a paparazzi took it. Could have they followed her here? I look at the picture again and it looked like the photo was taken from a perspective that one couldn’t see if they were being photographed. What was I wearing that day? I look like I shop at the kid’s section on Urban Outfitters and my face looked distorted. Do I really look like that in real life? Meanwhile, my mother looked effortlessly stunning even with her face covered. She dressed secretly and yet she looks better than me. I was just visible enough for someone to recognize if they look long enough. Wait, this was posted on Twitter. Twitter is a social media platform with thousands of users. I click on the original post of the photo and it was posted by the official twitter page of Vanity Faze with it’s blue check mark and thousand of followers. In the photo’s caption, it stated “Elusive actress, Carol May spotted in a small town in Louisiana with someone who could be her daughter!” Oh, god. It just sinked in. Thousands of people have seen and read this post. Thousands of people could already know the real identity of my mother. Thousands of people could already know where we live. Thousands of people might already also know me. Is it just me or does the air seems a bit thin? I read the comments and I wish I didn’t read them. It was full off criticism.
“Carol’s fashion sense is flunking just like her career.”,
“Her clothes looks like it came from a donation from the dollar store.”,
“She looks like a hanger.”,
“Looks like she isn’t the only one with body issues.”,
“If that’s her daughter then she must be adopted.”,
“She’s peaking and it shows.”
The hunger that I was feeling was suddenly replaced by nausea. How can people be this hostile? The air in my room is non-existent. Dreadful thoughts start to cloud my mind. There is too much going on in my brain. The room is quiet unlike my mind which is currently full of shouts and screams. I’m starting to feel light-headed. I want to scream but the habit of not breathing is kind of getting in the way of that. My mind is loud. The paranoia thoughts are seeping it’s way into my system. I try to think of something else but I can’t. Those darn tweets keeps replaying in my head. I want to breathe. How can I breathe? I dig my nails inside my palms to feel anything other than this.
“Roni?,” someone called. It was my baby brother. He only calls me this when something is wrong. I snap out of it and looked at the door. All I can see is his silhouette. I haven’t turned the lights on in my room because I was too busy having a panic attack.
“Hey, Vin,” I said to him in a soft voice. I turned my lamp on to brighten up the room a bit. I look at my palms and there was some red marks. My nails have made its way into the skin of my palms. Thankfully, it was not that deep and it just looks like a scratch.
“It’s time for dinner,” Vincent said.
“Okay, you go ahead. I need to wash my face first,” I replied.
“Okay, can you be quick?,” Vincent asked with a concerned tone.
“I’ll be down in a minute, why?” I head towards the bathroom door and lean on the doorframe waiting for his response.
“Mom is being frantic. Dad is having a hard time helping her to calm down,” Vincent replied.
“Okay, I’m going to wash my face now and head down in a sec,” I said to him.
He closes the door and I go to the bathroom sink. I look at myself in the mirror and I try to calm myself down.
“Everything is going to be all right.”
“The tweets are not real, they are just words said by bots. People who hide behind a fake account.”
“You look fine and so does you mother.”
“Nobody’s going to know that you are the daughter of a famous actress and you can remain invisible and out of the spotlight.”
“You’re mother has connections and that tweet will seem like it never even happened.”
I took a deep breathe and turned on the faucet. I splash the cold water onto my face and take out this Korean green tea facial wash my mother got me from her trip in Seoul, South Korea. I haven’t used any other facial wash besides this one and since then my acne cleared out. After washing the residue off my face, I grab my towel and pat dry my face. I read on the internet that this is better than rubbing your face because this way it doesn’t irritate the skin and is more effective on preventing lines on your face. I take one last look at myself then headed down stairs.
As I was nearing the kitchen I could hear my mother’s frustrated sighs. Dad was trying his best to console his wife. I see him rubbing my mother’s back. My mother was talking to someone on the phone. I think it’s her manager.
“No, for the past years I have been living quietly here in Hawkins, my family have been at peace here. Why did this happen just now?! You promised me nobody would find out where I am!,” mother said in a frustrated tone. Her and father were at the kitchen counter. Their backs turned against us. Vincent was sitting down at the dinner table waiting for them. I make my presence known by sitting beside him.
“Hey, Vin,” I said to him
“Hi.” He sounded so tired. I look at the table and the food has already been set up.
“Are you not going to eat?,” I asked him.
“No, I’m waiting for them to be finished.” He points to the direction of our parents.
“Well, we can go ahead.” I reach for the meatloaf and as I was about to put some on his plate he pushed my hand away.
“I don’t want to eat without them,” he said.
“Are you not hungry?” It was already past seven and usually we eat dinner at six.
“I am but, I don’t want to eat if we are not complete in the table.” Vincent answered.
“But you’ve eaten plenty of times when we are not complete.” I responded.
“Yes, but I want to eat with us being complete this time. I have an announcement.” he explained.
“Okay, we’ll wait for them to be finished,” I said. I could hear his stomach grumbling but he didn’t want to eat yet so we waited.
It has been 10 minutes and the food is starting to get cold. I look at Vincent as he sighs. We need to eat now. I stand up and approached them both. I talked to mom first.
“Hey mom, let’s eat first.” I say to her in a low voice as she was still on the phone.
“You and your brother go ahead, don’t you see I’m busy at the moment?,” she said sharply.
“Honey, I think our daughter is right. We should eat first, it’s getting late,” my father said in a calm voice.
“What part of “you go ahead” don’t you understand?!,” mom said harshly.
“Vincent won’t eat without you guys.” I try to stay as calm as possible, not matching her attitude.
“Vincent, are you not going to eat without us?” Mother turned around to face my brother.
“No, not without you guys.” Vincent replied.
“Don’t be so hard-headed and eat. I’m still dealing with something here. You and Veronica go ahead without us.” She glared at Vincent.
“I just want to eat dinner with all of us complete here in the dinner table!” Vincent shouted.
“Stop being so stubborn and eat!” Mother was now also shouting.
“Honey, the children just wants to eat with us. You can go back to finishing that conversation later,” dad said but, she ignores him.
“I don’t want to eat anymore!” Vincent stands up and storms out of the kitchen.
I look at my mother disapprovingly and so does my dad.
“Can’t you just eat without me? I’m having a hard time already with this damned thing on twitter.” Mother sighs and brushes her hair in frustration.
“You don’t get it, Vincent had something to say and he wanted all of us to be there for it. Didn’t you wonder why he was so eager on getting us all to sit down and eat together?,” I asked her in a sharp voice. Mother just stayed silent. I wait for her response but she just continued talking on the phone when she noticed that her manager was still on the line. Father and I exchanged glances before he went to the dinner table to clear it out. I grab some meatloaf to bring to Vincent upstairs.
I knock on his door waiting for his approval to let me in.
“Hey, Vin. It’s me, V. Can I come in?,” I said.
“Come in,” he said.
So, I did. I opened the door and he was at the floor playing with his Legos.
“Hey, bud. I brought you some meatloaf.” I sit down beside him.
“I’m not that hungry anymore,” he said but then his stomach grumbled.
“I don’t think Mr. Belly agrees.” I point to his stomach and tickle it.
“Hahahaha, okay maybe I am.” He admitted and he let me feed him some meatloaf.
“Why were you so set on having us all in the dinner table anyway?,” I asked him.
“Like I said, I have an announcement.” He said with his mouth full of meatloaf.
“Okay, tell me about it after eating and don’t talk when your mouth is full.” I wipe his mouth clean and wait for him to finish eating.
“Okay, I’m done and full!” He exclaims.
“Soooo, tell me about this announcement of yours.” I lean in close, curious to hear what it was about.
“I was chosen to become the school’s representative for the state arts competition,” he said in a humble voice. I was shocked but not surprised. Vincent always had a talent for drawing. The reason I’m shocked is because he’s a shy kid and him being representative of the school kind of puts a spotlight on him. He’s slowly coming out of his shell.
“Wow, that’s amazing! Get out of here Vincent Van Gogh!,” I teasingly said to him.
“Alright, you can have my autograph since you’re my first fan.” He said jokingly matching my sarcasm.
“But, for real. I am proud of you, Vin,” I said happily.
“Thanks, sis! I just wish I could have also told mom and dad.” He sighs.
“Well, you can okay? It was just a bad time for mom.” I assure him.
“I feel hurt. I just wanted all of you to be present for my announcement.” Vincent expressed.
“I know, bud. What you are feeling right now is valid. Mom should have taken a break and ate with us first.” I console him. Vincent just sighed.
“Do you want some water?,” I ask him.
“Okay, wait here.” I stand up and went to fetch some water. I open the door to step out and I see mom standing outside.
“Hey, is he asleep?,” mother asked.
“Not yet, I went out to get him some water.” I replied.
“Let me do that for him,” she asks.
“Are you done being cranky?” I asked her.
“I am,” she said in a calm voice.
“Okay, I’m still going down to the kitchen to get some water for myself too,” I said and we go down together. She’s making hot chocolate with little marshmallows for Vincent. After that, we go upstairs together. She goes into Vincent’s room with the hot chocolate and the water on her other hand. I knock the door for her as she asks Vincent to let her in and he approves. I opened the door for her and I proceeded to my room to get some rest.