Paranelope, a ghost hunter who's been cancelled for faking evidence, must discover the truth behind a local cryptid in order to clear her name.
--
Penelope, better known as the ghost hunter PARANELOPE to her millions of followers, has only ever want...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You seem energetic," Liam said, chewing on a leftover waffle as he watched Penelope flit around the room. "Did all the maple syrup fry your brain or something?" Her dad had offered him the leftovers when he arrived and Liam didn't even hesitate.
"No," Penelope said defensively, though she did feel very bouncy. Maybe it was the sugar, or maybe it was the nerves. Soon Liam's uncle Henry would be coming over to the little rented cabin to sit down for his interview. Whatever the reason, Penelope was thankful for the burst of energy. There was still so much to do.
There was a lot of pressure for this interview to go well. She had already announced it on Twitter—though she hadn't revealed just who she was interviewing—and from the constant buzzing of her new phone on the living room coffee table, Penelope could guess that her viewers were excited.
Her last two videos, the live stream and the follow-up she had filmed the night before where she described what she had seen, had been doing particularly well. And judging by the response, it seemed many of her critics were coming around. And the ones who hadn't... well, they were still watching anyway, eager to see where it all went. Even the trolls—or Daevon's stans—were keeping an eye on her, which Penelope didn't mind. Hate watch or not, a view was a view and it only propelled her higher.
And now, this interview was just as much a chance for redemption as it was for Henry.
It had to go well.
While Liam continued to munch on his waffle scraps, Penelope began to rearrange the sparse furniture in the small living room for a proper interview-ready setting. She pushed the leather couch so its back was against the wall of windows. Outside the sky was moody and dark, like another storm was brewing. It made for a good, spooky backdrop.
"Almost ready for your big interview?" Penelope's dad said, appearing at the top of the stairs that led from the loft.
"Not quite," Penelope admitted. She surveyed her work, but she wasn't quite happy with it. Plus, she still had to set up her phone camera and make sure the new microphone she had bought this morning worked. She was suddenly kicking herself as she imagined it being a dud. Why didn't I buy a backup, or two, or three...?
