Sing For Me

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Whore of Babel-on

*Prior to posting this chapter, I've edited the ending of Ch26! You might want to go back and read the final ¼ of a chapter so things make sense!

Author's Note: I'm trying to get the final chapters of SFM drafted and posted by the end of the month! Once they're up, I'll do a full editing pass. My apologies for any spelling, grammar & continuity errors in the meantime <3

Hell. 

Well, that would be the understatement of the century.

The paparazzi camped outside our apartment all night, the glaring lights and constant buzz of circling drones making it impossible to sleep.

Getting up the next morning, I found Trix and Abbey in the kitchen, black coffees in hands, both with dark circles under their eyes and huddled over Trix's laptop.

Trix snapped the lid of her laptop closed as soon as she noticed my presence. Although I appreciated the gesture of protection, it didn't really help—every five minutes there seemed to be a new hit against my name on google.

Megan Robertson: The Next Yoko Ono

Megan Robertson: Band-wrecker

Megan Robertson: The Whore of Babel-on

Each time I refreshed the results on my phone, the statements stabbed a little further under my skin. For some reason, everything that had happened had turned the media's perception of me from the Golden Mystery Girl to Public Enemy Number One with as little evidence as one minute and fifty-three seconds of audio.

I pressed my hand against my forehead. "I don't suppose you two got any sleep then, huh?" I said, filling my own mug with lukewarm coffee.

Trix looked at me wailfully. Abbey yawned and shook her head.

"I don't think they're going to let up for at least a couple of days. Maybe you should call in sick?" Abs suggested.

I shook my head. "Can't. I won't be able to make rent if I don't go."

Trix and Abs exchanged a look.

"We can cover this month," Trix said.

"Seriously," Abbey added. "You've been through enough. I really don't think you should go out there right now. I've overheard some of the things they're saying down there. And... it's not good. Not good at all."

Abbey bit down on her thumbnail.

I sighed, gulped down my coffee and refilled my mug. "I appreciate the concern, guys—really, I do—but..." I paused, trying to find the words. Abbey and Trix had always been real with me—it was about time that I gave them the same respect. "I just... if I stay here, I'm just going to think about things. About him. And the headlines. And... everything. I don't... I don't think I can cope with that without going batshit crazy."

"Well, isn't that's why best friends and Netflix were invented?" Abbey grinned.

My heart ached. Netflix wasn't going to be enough of a distraction. And I couldn't be around Abbey without thinking about him, either. Worrying about him. Wondering if he was okay. It was like my best friend had become the most imminent reminder of the worst experience of my life.

I closed my eyes for a second. "I just... I can't let this define me; or control my life. I at least have to try." I said, pulling myself up to my full height. "I can't just shrivel up and die all because a few media outlets and a bunch of people on the internet want to blame me for helping them see through the façade of the thing they loved."