“Great,” I whispered. “This is just great.”
Not only did the parts of this monstrosity of a bed seem to be held together by some kind of super powerful dark magic, but now I was covered in dirt and sweat and I’d ruined the only casual items of clothing I had.
Grabbing my sandwich and fruit salad from the kitchenette’s counter, I tucked my phone under an arm, walked out to the sad and grisly porch that consisted of a single step, and plopped down. Something sharp pricked my ass, but I felt so helpless in that moment, so done, that I didn’t even bother moving. The leggings were dirty anyway. And it wasn’t like I could drop them in the washer because, turned out, there wasn’t one in the cottage, so whatever.
So whatever. I didn’t recognize myself.
With a sigh, I unwrapped my dinner and looked ahead as I chewed on the sandwich. I contemplated what was supposed to be the peaceful and beautiful expanse of nature before me, and saw this place for what it was. A few hills. A bunch of trees. An ugly cabin. A chip of rotten wood under my ass.
A gust of wind picked up, making me curl my legs closer to my chest. I took a new bite, recounting the winter clothes I’d packed: zero. I didn’t even own more than the one winter jacket that I hadn’t used in… years. Which was one of the things I loved about Miami.
I shook my head, deciding not to think about that. I’d make do with what I had. The nights and early mornings were growing cold the closer we got to October but it’d be fine. I’d have to be fine.
My phone pinged with a message, providing a welcome distraction, so I shifted my sandwich to my left hand and held the device up.
MATTHEW: Bad news.
Alarm surged in my belly as I typed my answer. I’d talked to Matthew on Sunday night, but besides providing him with a good laugh at the image of me, doing yoga—with goats, and without Cameron, who I still hadn’t mentioned to Matthew—there hadn’t been any developments on the #sparklesgate front.
ADALYN: It must be really bad if I’m not getting a goat gif.
MATTHEW: It kind of is.
A link followed that. I tapped on it with my thumb, and I was redirected to the site of an energy drink. I didn’t recognize the brand, so I scrolled down, wondering if he’d sent me the right thing.
That’s when the animation kicked in.
A colorful can rolled in, a slogan flashing underneath it in bold letters: CHOOSE ENTERTAINMENT OVER DIGNITY. The can shook then, trembled, as if about to burst, and poof, something materialized at the front.
With a disbelieving blink, I stared at the logo that had just been stamped on the container.
It was a simple illustration, but even that way it was impossible to miss the similarities. I knew what I was seeing. I recognized it. By now, I had watched the clip so many times that I could probably summon my face, jaw unlocked and expression unhinged, if I closed my eyes.
It was my Lady Birdinator face.
And turned out, I was on a can.
Dread and shock swirled inside me, making the few bites of turkey I’d taken turn sour.
MATTHEW: I’ve done some research. It’s a new energy drink company. Pretty small. Vegan. Miami based. Targeting Gen Z for the most part. They have been very smart about it. You wouldn’t make the connection if you haven’t watched the video. But…
ADALYN: But millions of people have seen it.
MATTHEW: I’m sorry.
A wave of nausea hit me straight in the gut at that I’m sorry. I didn’t want anybody’s pity. Not even Matthew’s. Because that… That made it all worse. I swallowed, trying to push down everything that was bubbling up in my throat.
MATTHEW: You think you can sue?
ADALYN: I’ll talk to my father. I’m sure he’s already seen it and is taking legal action to protect the franchise.
MATTHEW: I’m more concerned about you.
ADALYN: I’m part of the franchise.
I stared at my own words, that sensation in my chest intensifying. But I was still part of it, wasn’t I? I was his daughter, and employee, as much as I’d been temporarily suspended from access to my account and banished. My father would protect me. I knew he’d done that in the past, I now knew that he’d—
One of the bushes across from me moved, capturing my attention.
It moved again, making me narrow my eyes, and then, before I could prepare, something charged out of the bushes.
My phone and sandwich were startled straight out of my hands, and I even heard myself yelp as I shut my eyes, bracing myself for whatever that thing was. A bear? A ravenous rabbit? I’d read about several species of rattlesnakes in the area that were deadly. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be worse than being claimed as the image of an energy drink whose marketing campaign was based on my demise and lack of dignity.