chad - a Quackity fanfiction (Quackity x Y/N) Updates Friday, Saturday, & Sunday

Chapter 46: Famous

The relentless buzz of my phone pulled me from my thoughts as I sat in my dimly lit room, scrolling through messages and notifications that seemed to never end. My Instagram inbox had become a bottomless pit of messages from fans, friends, and even celebrities who wanted to connect. A small smile tugged at my lips as I sifted through the sea of digital interactions.

"Beyonce: Hey Quackity, love your content! Let's collab sometime."

"Nicki Minaj: Quackity, you're hilarious! We should do something together."

"Cardi B: Saw your latest video, couldn't stop laughing! Let's chat."

"Jungkook: Hey! Let's connect."

The messages from these icons felt surreal, almost unreal, and yet they were right there on my screen. Each message held its own weight, a testament to the power of social media and the reach it had granted me.

I chuckled to myself, shaking my head as I realized that my inbox had surpassed the 500,000 messages mark. The thought of responding to all of them was both exciting and daunting. But in the midst of this newfound attention, I found myself feeling strangely detached from it all.

In a way, the whirlwind of events and emotions had left me numb to the relentless tide of fame. The drama that had unfolded around my dating life and the subsequent reactions had taken their toll, leaving me with a sense of detachment. It was as if the storm had passed, leaving behind a calm that I hadn't anticipated.

As I continued scrolling, my eyes landed on a familiar name amidst the sea of messages. Y/N. The name that had once evoked a surge of emotions was now just another message among many. I opened the conversation and glanced at the messages that had piled up.

Y/N: Quackity, we need to talk about this.

The words were simple, yet they carried an underlying weight that I couldn't ignore. But as I stared at the message, I found myself hesitating. The past weeks had left me drained, and the prospect of another emotional exchange was something I was not eager to face.

I leaned back in my chair, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I typed a response, then deleted it. Typed again, and deleted it once more. It was as if the words were escaping me, slipping through my fingers as I struggled to find the right ones.

In the midst of this internal battle, the chime of my phone filled the air again, this time with a text message. It was from my close friend, Karl Jacobs.

Karl: Hey man, you good? Heard about the drama, just checking in.

I smiled as I read the message, grateful for the genuine concern that Karl was showing. Without hesitation, I typed out a reply, letting him know that I was doing okay, despite everything. The conversation flowed easily, a reminder of the relationships that mattered most to me.

As I set my phone down, I realized that the world outside was changing, and I was changing with it. The drama, the attention, the rollercoaster of emotions—they had all played their part in shaping me. And while I couldn't erase the past, I could choose how to move forward.

With a renewed sense of clarity, I finally replied to Y/N's message, acknowledging the need for a conversation. The detachment I had felt began to shift, replaced by a quiet resolve to face whatever lay ahead.