Drowning

Five;

"I've googled you, you know?" Zahara says, sipping from another drink. I laugh.

"Why? When?" I ask, still chuckling.

"The day after we met. I was curious." she says. "You have lots of tattoos. Shit body, though."

"You're ruthless," I laugh, shaking my head.

"I'm just honest." she winks.

We'd been drinking alone for around an hour now. It was late, or early. But, either way, I wasn't quite tired yet.

"What else did google tell you?" I ask, sipping from my own drink; another whiskey.

"It told me that you have a large social media following," she says.

"Does that matter?" I ask.

"Nope. Just telling you what I found out." she says.

"Did you follow me? I don't really use social media, so I wouldn't have seen it," I admit.

"I didn't," she giggles. "Didn't want to seem weird."

"Ah," I nod. "Are you online?"

"Yes, I'm 'online', grandad." she laughs. "I use Instagram the most."

"Show me," I smile, curious to see what sort of thing she posted.

"Find it yourself." she says.

So, I did. I pulled my phone out, ignored all of my notifications, and opened up Instagram. I was immediately bombarded with yet more notifications, but I ignored those as well. I typed Zahara's name into the search bar, but a few came up.

"Surname?" I ask.

"Barton-Prifti." she says.

"Ah, I see you." I say, scrolling down.

I clicked on her profile. Private.

"Zahara," I chuckle. "It's on private."

"Oh, what a shame." she coos.

"Let me in!"

"Request it, then." she laughs.

I hit 'request', and Zahara took her phone and opened the app up.

"Hm, some weirdo's just requested to follow my Instagram. Do you think I should let him?" she says. I laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.

"You're impossible,"

"I've accepted him. I hope he doesn't try to talk to me," she says, smirking.

"I'm sure he won't," I scoff.

I began to scroll down her page, noticing that she had many photos of her with friends, and places she had been to.

"Your stuff is a bit more exciting than my page full of fight-promo," I laugh.

"It's just little snippets of fun days," she hums. "Are you going to unfollow me in a sec? I mean, that ratio you have going is quite intense," she says.

"What? 'Cos I don't follow many people?" I chuckle.

"Harry, you follow twelve people and have one million followers."

"I follow thirteen now." I say, smiling cheekily.

"I'm not going to follow you back." she says, smiling proudly to herself.

"Oh, is that so?" I say.

"It is so."

I lean in closer to her, my voice hushed as I spoke. "The thing about that, Zahara, is that I don't give a shit,"