Ch. 28 - Secret Hater

Chapter Twenty-Eight – Secret Hater

Fez and the camera guy were back at it, and that meant at his place. Jamie took in the duo as he pocketed his phone. All the way from the studio where he practiced he had browsed through the shorts Cottontail had put together for him, posting one and scheduling more for later, as advised by his not-producer.

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked. "Do you really want to feel the wrath of my drumsticks?" He knew he was joking, but that didn't mean that they had to know that. As long as they believed him to be dangerous, he was less at risk of becoming their mark and toy. According to Cottontail, who appeared to be in possession of the true gospel when it came to reality shows and the people behind them, these guys thought he'd be easy and play right into their hands. That remained to be seen.

Fez made a face as if he had just eaten an entire lemon. The camera guy moved his mouth slowly, chewing gum, with the same impassive look in his eyes. There seemed to be nothing that could surprise or rattle that individual. To himself, Jamie could admit that the dude was giving him the willies a little bit. Outwardly, he needed to show them that he couldn't care less.

"Angus gave us an earful," Fez said and rolled his eyes. "We're here to play it the way you want."

"It's okay, you guys don't have to bother anymore. I'm in charge of what shorts I'm going to post from now on."

To his surprise, Fez's eyes shone with glee. "Are you sure? Because Angus told us you know absolutely nothing about reality shows."

Jamie shrugged. "That's true. But I know what sort of person I am, and that's what I'm going to show the people who are watching your show."

"We just saw the short you posted like twenty minutes ago. Can you think of anything more boring than that?" The way Fez angled his head convinced Jamie that he was talking to the camera guy.

No reply whatsoever came from the bovine looking young man, who continued to chew slowly on his gum like he couldn't be bothered to reflect on such things. Jamie would swear they should record that kind of interaction and sell it as some sort of comedy show with would-be mafiosos as protagonists.

He was not impressed. Instead of hurrying to justify his position or defend himself, he waited. After all, he was an expert on waiting for other people's reactions; it was a good survival strategy, and it had helped him navigate the world just fine until now. Why was Cottontail insisting that he was an innocent when it came to interacting with scumbags like the ones in front of him? He knew enough about people and how to handle them.

"Sorry that you had to come all the way down here," he said cheerfully. "I'm sure there are many other participants that can barely wait to become viral. I hope you guys weren't in charge of me alone."

"No, we have plenty," Fez said with importance. "Are you sure you don't want our help at all?"

"I've never been surer of anything in my life," Jamie said with emphasis, looking to match the other's annoying attitude. "I'm a drummer. I love music. That's what the show's audience needs to see and hear from me."

Fez put a hand over his mouth, stifling a fake yawn. "Okay, if you're so sure, I can't stop you. It's your funeral."

Jamie frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll never win this show with your attitude."

"Maybe I'm not interested in winning."

"Maybe you're the wrong person for the job."

"And what job is that?" Jamie took a step toward Fez, enjoying the way the guy immediately cowered. It took Fez a second to recompose himself and pretend he hadn't just pissed his pants, afraid that Jamie might punch him in the face. That sort of overreaction was too much, but Jamie enjoyed it.

"Entertaining people," Fez replied, crossing his arms and putting his chin up. "With a name like Jamie Vayne, I was expecting a lot more from you."

"Oh, I disappointed you," Jamie drawled. "Well, let me put it this way. Sorry not sorry. Are you guys done here? 'Cause I still have a life outside of LiveFeed."

Fez chuckled as if he knew shit. "Too bad you're not using the space we're giving you on our platform, Jamie. It's called LiveFeed for a reason. You should always be posting."

"Why? Is that what the others are doing?"

"Check it out for yourself. Let's go," Fez ordered the camera guy. The heavyset young man turned slowly, still keeping his eyes on Jamie like he was trying to intimidate him.

Jamie followed the duo with his eyes until they disappeared from view. Then, he started checking the LiveFeed platform.

His competition was no joke. The show already had over one hundred participants and, as Cottontail had warned him, some of them were influencers with a lot of experience under their belts. They were posting everything from jokes, masked ads, and cat videos, to personal confessions and announcements for livestreaming sessions.

For a moment, he felt a jolt of unpleasantness. There was a certain desperation in the way these people were acting. The more experienced ones hid it better; the amateurs were as transparent as glass. The question was, which category did he belong to?

With a shrug, he stepped inside. His shift at the coffee shop would start soon, and he didn't want to keep Janet waiting only because he was a star in the making. Above everything else, he wanted to be the same good and nice person who wouldn't put celebrity above what made him a decent human being.

But those people were posting a lot. Their engagement was also non-negligible. Jamie checked the feed quickly. What were those people on?

***

Hearst observed the flow of short videos by swiping up and up, increasing the speed of his fingers, while his annoyance mounted. How many were there? Around fifty, by the looks of it. He went back to check the first.

"Yeah, he's a nice guy, but--"

The first guy's voice was interrupted to be completed by several others.

"—his kissing could be better—he doesn't always understand—there's just something about him—I don't think anyone could ever love someone like that."

The videos had been taken around the Sunny Hill campus, which gave them credibility, but he wasn't sure that those guys were students there. At least, not all of them. But all of them spoke about Jamie, shitting on his reputation… when their words were taken out of context.

He stopped at another that appeared to follow a different format. The guy had his back to the camera, and it was all dark, so only his silhouette could be made out. "Yeah, I mean, like, I put my all into that, and I thought I could change him, you know? I mean, he does know how to charm a guy only to sweep the rug out from underneath his feet."

The heartbroken lad continued singing the same tune. His voice was modulated to make it unrecognizable, and also to lend the video a more ominous feeling than what it would have otherwise had. He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. What looked like the same guy appeared in several more short videos, and they were all focusing on Jamie's having had seduced him only to abandon him at a later date.

In and of themselves, the videos were consistent, they all seemed to be saying the same thing, although nothing really incriminating was said. Who was posting those? They were on the main feed of LiveFeed, so they had to come directly from the producers or whoever was behind the wheel at that hour of the day. There were an awful lot of them, too, and with very few exceptions they were directed at Jamie. It displeased him how much like Xpress's efforts in the beginning to tarnish Jamie's reputation they were. They lacked substance, but they drove home a point. Jamie was, according to them, a conniving bastard who only cared about getting his rocks off while completely ignoring the other guy's feelings.

He pursed his lips as his mind struggled to make sense of this approach. What were the reality show people trying to accomplish with this sort of content? There was definitely engagement on them, because likes and comments kept pouring in. Everyone and their mother pitched in with personal stories – not about Jamie, thank fuck – but about things that had happened to them.

"Fucking relatable," he whispered under his breath. It didn't matter if Jamie was so nasty a guy that he couldn't tolerate the mere idea of becoming someone's boyfriend or not. All that mattered was that people could hate on someone who seemed to resemble an asshole in their lives to some extent.

And Jamie now had a freaking secret hater. That guy with the masked voice had to be the key to the stuff that was going on right now. They knew their stuff for sure, because there was not one direct accusation that could get Jamie in hot water for imaginary reasons. The videos only provided the atmosphere required to make someone highly unlikeable.

It was too perfect a scheme to ignore. Too soft to cause outrage, too pointed to shrug off. It was insidious and efficient. That reminded him of something… or better said, of someone.

Without thinking twice, he grabbed his phone.

"Are you behind this?"

His brother sounded as if he had just woken up from a nap. "You'll have to be more specific than that for me to answer your question."

"Are you Jamie's secret hater?"

"Secret hater? What the heck are you talking about?"

He was stewing in his own anger, but he needed to remind himself that it had never been easy to beat his brother at this game. Their fights as kids had later transformed into endless arguments and always ended with one winner left on the battlefield, and that was his brother Wen. Even if their dad always insisted that they call each other by those ridiculous names, he had preferred to call his older sibling Wen because it made him more human.

"Check the LiveFeed platform, the main feed," he said curtly. "Tell me you had nothing to do with it."

He heard a sigh from the other end. Now he only had to wait. The next thing he knew, his brother was chuckling. He sounded so insufferable that picturing him with a broken nose was barely a strong enough option for revenge.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, little bro, but this tops everything you've ever written about Jamie Vayne. You just don't have what it takes, admit it."

"Now that you've amused yourself," he said, barely containing his anger, "tell me what were you thinking by meddling in this LiveFeed business?"

"As flattered as your assumption is that I have anything to do with this might make me feel, I cannot assume ownership. You should work on Xpress's template to make it work with shorts. Or maybe you should just throw everything in the trash and start over."

"It sounds tempting. By the way, I've always considered Xpress your baby. Don't tell me you suddenly stopped caring."

"I'm growing out of that phase. There are bigger fish to fry in the world."

"Really? It looks to me like you wouldn't mind having Jamie crucified for stupid reasons."

"Your indignation soothes my soul. Do you have the hots for Jamie Vayne, little bro? I'm starting to suspect that more and more."

"Even gossip journalism should have limits," he said through his teeth. "Do you swear you have nothing to do with this?"

"Are we twelve?" Another sigh followed. "Okay, fine, I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die. Do you feel better now? By the way, you should watch all of these, because they offer some excellent material for your gossip page. Seeing how little interest that thing elicits these days among your peers, we should consider it your personal fail."

"I'm not going to write about Jamie Vayne again," he promised. "You can't make me."

"Fine. Suit yourself. Other people can do a much better job than you do anyway. I mean, this reality show is really going to be Jamie's doom."

"And why does that make you sound so happy?"

"You're the one who's taking all of this too personally," his brother accused. "As a professional, I can appreciate the hustle these people are putting in to take Jamie down a peg or two. It's what he deserves. Who does he think he is, believing he can waltz in and become a celebrity just like that? By the way, I'm looking at his shorts and they're getting zero attention."

That stung. He had personally helped Jamie with those; maybe they weren't at a pro level or anything, but they weren't half bad, either.

"Negative things will always get more attention," he said out loud.

"Exactly. I'm so touched. It looks to me like you're learning, and that you are capable of listening to your big bro for a change."

"I've said nothing to that effect," he protested.

"But you believe it, and that's all I want from you. Thanks for waking me up. Seeing Jamie getting what he deserves through no one else's fault but his own is really making my day. Do you want to meet up later?"

"No," his reply came as a knee-jerk reaction. The last thing he wanted was to see his brother's smug face and listen to his incessant drivel.

"Suit yourself." Even if he tried to make himself sound like he wasn't affected by that blunt refusal, it was obvious his brother cared enough to feel offended.

"Yeah, I will."

Damn, had Jamie seen these? He needed to work on the guy's fragile ego. Jamie liked to think that he wouldn't be hurt by such things, but he didn't know himself very well.

It didn't matter. Jamie would get all the comfort he deserved for enduring such a fate at the hands of those unscrupulous producers.

***

People were giving him some very strange looks. Jamie was always comfortable in his own skin, so that sort of atmosphere was unnerving, to say the least. Had Xpress written some new fairy tales about him? He checked the phone, but before he had a chance to go to the website where the little campus publication was vomiting its hallucinations on an almost daily basis, his eyes grew wide at the number of notifications. Apparently, people were tagging him left and right.

That meant that his drumming shorts were getting attention. It was great and put a smile on his face, but that faded quickly as he began to wade through all the comments mentioning him.

He set his jaw hard. So those people at LiveFeed were making him the guy who got the most shit out of all their one hundred and more competitors. He didn't care about the reason, but he needed to set some idiots straight.

No one would answer his calls, without a doubt. Jamie felt so disgusted and frustrated that he wanted to give up, but that wasn't like him. He wanted to get Angus or Arthur on the phone and give them a proper earful. When had he signed up to be the target of all that?

Angus, to his surprise, picked up right away.

"My favorite LiveFeed competitor," Angus greeted him cheerfully.

"Why? Because I'm somehow easy to shit on?" Jamie asked through his teeth.

"Wow, wow, someone's in a mood. You're a star, Jamie. We're making you into one."

"Really? How? By getting all those people to say untrue things about me? I don't even know half of them. And why are their words edited like that? They make me sound like I'm a big scumbag."

"What are they saying, really?" Angus asked. "What's so untrue?"

Jamie had to stop and consider his next words. "Well, they say--" What were they saying?

That he was not boyfriend material.

That he didn't commit.

That he refused to be more than a calm port in a storm.

Not in such nice words.

But still.

"Jamie, Jamie, Jamie," Angus said with affection. "Any attention is good attention. Have you checked the engagement on the shorts you uploaded? The ones where you play the drums and have fun making music?"

Not for the last half hour. "I know," Jamie said, feeling sober all of a sudden. "The numbers don't look that great. I have some likes, but no comments." He rubbed the back of his neck to get rid of the annoying prickling sensation on his skin. "I will upload more, and they'll get more--"

"How about you look now?"

Jamie had to put Angus on hold to do that, but his producer didn't mind.

He is pretty gorgeous.

Damn, those guns, oh, momma.

I'll take getting disappointed by this guy any day.

I can fix him; I know I can. Gimme a chance, Jamie baby!

It went on and on like that.

"But none of these comments refer to what I'm doing," he said as he went back to his convo with Angus. His temper had just gotten a cold shower, and he couldn't deny it.

"They are checking your profile, Jamie. They hit that sweet, sweet like button, and they're commenting on your videos. That's engagement for you, Jamie. They like you. They want to be with you."

"What about my music?" Jamie asked, too dumbfounded to continue arguing his point of view.

"They'll listen to your playing the drums, don't worry. They'll recognize your name when it comes up. You'll sell your music because you're known."

"Are you sure about that?" He was the one sounding unsure now.

"I'm in the business of making stars, Jamie. Trust in me, and you'll go far."

He couldn't deny the logic of Angus's words, and he couldn't continue arguing against them. So why did he feel like he had just signed a deal with the devil?

TBC