Shut Up and Talk

Chapter 8

I may not have been in Rio, but Ian kept me updated with constant texts. My phone trilled at all hours of the day and night with texts like, 'so many boobies on the beach' or classics like, 'I have a heat rash in a delicate spot.' Nothing was off limits. He did give me some sound bites I could use. I opened up his Twitter page and finally got the nerve to post my first tweet. I took Ian's latest text and typed it in.

Rio never disappoints. The temperature is bloody hot and so are the ladies.

Even though it went against all my principles, I posted the picture he'd sent me of a Brazilian spandex girl. It was the first time 'Ian' had posted in nearly a year and when the favourites and retweets started pouring in, I had to turn off the notifications. Despite the fact I was speaking for Ian, I was a bit giddy with all the attention. They liked my tweet! I was getting new followers by the minute.

Living vicariously through Ian's social media pages, I posted a few more sound bites and pictures. As per Max, I kept everything uncontroversial, just fun and silly. His fans loved it, sending posts of support. I even replied to a few which sent them into a tizzy. If only they knew who they were really communicating with.

"What are you doing?" Ian asked a few weeks later as we waited at Gio's, a hairstylist Ian recommended. At first I was apprehensive about taking any styling advice from Ian, but after a quick Google search on Gio, I was convinced

"Just posting something," I said, nearly walking into the front desk. This damn social media was going to be the death of me, but I was obsessed. People loved me–I mean Ian.

He raised an eyebrow. "Posting what?"

A blonde led us to a private waiting area and that's where I handed Ian my phone. He scrolled through the pages and smiled. "People fucking love me. Download these apps on my phone so I can post too."

I frowned. This was my baby. "Why would you want to do that? You're too busy."

"It looks like a blast."

"We can't both be posting. People might catch on and we wouldn't want that."

He tilted his head to one side. I could see his bullshit meter flipping off the charts. "Weren't popular in school, were you? This is your fifteen minutes?"

"Oh be quiet," I said, feeling my cheeks flush.

"Look, let's compromise. You set me up and I'll just do the occasional thing. I'll even run it past you."

I beamed. "In the last week I've gained nearly a thousand Facebook likes and almost as many Twitter followers. They love you."

"I reckon they love you."

Gio appeared, his head a mass of thick black perfectly coiffed curls. He had on a fuchsia top and skinny black jeans. He air kissed Ian and set his wide dark brown eyes on me. "Leda," he said, taking my hand and gently kissing it. "Ciao, Bella. You are beautiful."

Normally I'd be flattered, but Gio was gay, so no reason to get excited. "It's nice to meet you."

He touched my hair, letting it slip through his fingers. "We'll fix it. You won't believe what I can do. And I will show you how to change your look and keep it fresh. I want to see you every two weeks."

"Sure, okay." Two weeks? Really?

"Let's get started. We have a long day ahead of us."

Four hours later we were on our way out. I had to admit that Gio was a magician. My hair looked shiny, healthy and bouncy. I felt like skipping down the sidewalk.