It had me hooked

I cleaned the damn mug and sat back down in the chair, not even bothering to check for my siblings. Whatever, it was peaceful, so I wasn't about to ruin that by getting up and searching for their loud asses. I slumped into the chair, feeling kind of drained but too restless to sit still. And guess what? My fingers somehow found their way to my phone. Of course.

Facebook, here we go again.

I opened it, and yep, there they were—my Facebook boyfriends. Plural. Because apparently, having one wasn't enough for these dudes. I didn't even want it like that. It just happened. I'd tell a guy, straight up, that I already had a boyfriend, hoping that would be the end of it. But nah, they'd be like, "Oh, so? You can have two."

And at first, I was like, what the fuck?, but it kept happening, and somehow I ended up with…what? Eight? Yeah, I think I have eight boyfriends now. I didn't even like half of them. But they'd keep messaging me, keep sending me these cheesy-ass love notes, and after a while, I'd just go along with it.

I scrolled through the unread messages. Jesus, there were so many. I started replying, because that's what I do now, apparently. But today, I don't know why, I started adding some sweet shit to my replies. Stuff I didn't even mean. It felt fake, forced, but it's like I couldn't stop myself.

"Hey babe, I missed you," I typed to one guy. Lies. I barely remembered his name half the time.

"I was thinking about you last night," I sent to another. Bullshit. I was literally thinking about how annoying it was that my phone kept blowing up with messages while I was trying to sleep. But whatever, they ate that crap up. They loved it.

I sat there, replying message after message, feeling like I was sinking into some weird black hole. I hated it, but I also kind of liked the attention. Does that make me a bad person? I don't know. Probably.

There was one guy, though—god, he was such a fucking headache. Every message from him was, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," or, "I'm so lucky to have you." And I'd reply with the same half-assed stuff. "Yeah, you too," or, "You mean a lot to me." Lies, lies, lies.

By the time I finished replying to the guys I could tolerate, I was exhausted. I didn't even bother with the rest. Some of them? No thanks. I didn't have the energy for their clingy shit. I ignored their messages and threw my phone onto the table.

I sat there for a minute, feeling like I'd just run a marathon, but all I did was text a bunch of dudes I didn't even care about. What the hell am I doing with my life?

I knew I should get up, do something productive, but instead, my mind wandered to my neighbor's house. Yeah, you already know what I always end up doing over there. I didn't even need an excuse anymore. But just as I was about to grab my shoes and head over, my phone buzzed again.

Four notifications. Fuck.

I stared at the screen, telling myself I wasn't going to check it. Don't do it, Angela. But my fingers were already reaching for the phone. It's like my brain was wired to respond the second it buzzed. I guess I was obsessed. Fucking obsessed. And I hated it. But there I was, opening the app again.

The notifications were from—surprise, surprise—three of the boyfriends and some random dude asking to add me. I sighed. Couldn't these guys give me a break? One of them had sent like four voice notes in a row. God knows I didn't want to hear whatever nonsense he was spewing, but I tapped on the first one anyway.

His voice crackled through my phone's speaker, "Hey babe, I just wanted to say I love you so much, and I miss you. I can't wait to see you again…"

I paused it halfway through. Ugh, fucking gag me. I didn't even know what to say to him, but I couldn't just leave it on read. That'd be too obvious. So I quickly typed something back.

"Miss you too, babe. I'll listen to the rest later, I'm a little busy right now."

Lie. But whatever. It shut him up for the moment.

The second notification was from the guy I actually kind of liked, if you can believe that. He wasn't as annoying as the others, and we actually had some decent conversations sometimes. But lately, even he was getting clingy. His message just said, "Morning, beautiful. Hope you slept well."

I smirked, typing back, "Morning! Yeah, I guess, though I stayed up late again, haha. How about you?"

Keep it casual, I reminded myself. Don't get sucked in.

The other two messages were from guys I couldn't even remember. I didn't bother replying. Just left them on read, because at this point, what difference did it make?

By now, I was in too deep. The obsession was real. I knew I should get the hell off my phone and go outside, do something, anything other than this. But it's like Facebook had a grip on me, and I couldn't break free. Every time I tried, the notifications would pull me right back in.

I closed the app and leaned back in my chair, feeling frustrated as hell. This whole thing was a mess. I didn't even know what I was doing anymore. How did I go from wanting one boyfriend to juggling eight? Eight. What the actual fuck, Angela?

I needed to get out of the house, clear my head. Maybe I'd head to my neighbor's place after all. Anything to get away from the constant buzzing of my phone.

But even as I stood up and grabbed my shoes, I could feel the pull of my phone. I glanced at it, wondering if I'd missed any more notifications, if someone was waiting for a reply. No, stop, I told myself. Just leave it.

I shook my head and headed for the door, determined to escape, even if just for a little while. But deep down, I knew I'd be back. Because no matter how much I hated it, Facebook had me hooked.

Fucking hell.