Block

"hello."

"Ryan, you're not upset, are you?" Elizabeth Olsen asked on the other end of the line.

"Not at all. Social media management isn't exactly a critical position—anyone can do it. You don't need to apologize to me. We'll still have chances to work together," Ryan said politely.

"That's actually what I'm calling about. A few more chapters want to film their own school versions of the Harlem shake. How much budget are you planning for this one?" Elizabeth Olsen asked.

"Zero. You don't need to contact the chapters anymore," Ryan said with a smile.

The Harlem shake had already made it onto The Daily Show—it was spreading like wildfire. The sororities had done their part. Even without "sponsored shoots," people on campus would still film their own Harlem shakes. Ryan wasn't about to spend a single cent he could save.

"Alright, so that's it?" Elizabeth suddenly sounded hesitant.

"Goodbye."

Ryan hung up briskly. Social media management really wasn't a critical role. The recruitment post he'd just put out had already gotten over a dozen responses. Ryan noticed one with a Scooter profile picture—he remembered that avatar from before. It was someone who'd enthusiastically explained the Harlem shake to others in the comments under his YouTube videos, looking like a "fan."

Still, Ryan wasn't about to trust these netizens blindly. He didn't make a decision right away.

Noticing it was nearly evening, Ryan shut down his computer and got ready to head out. He ran into Trey at the door just as she was coming home.

She looked travel-worn—probably been out shooting on location in some wilderness again.

"Where are you going?" Trey asked Ryan as he was about to leave.

"A date!" Ryan said without looking back.

"Coming back tonight?"

Ryan turned around this time, squinting.

"Remember to take precautions," Trey said with a wave.

Once the door closed again, Trey muttered to herself, "Can't even spare some time to hang out with me. What a waste raising you."

At the date spot—the AMC multiplex near Music Row—Ryan saw Abigail step out of the passenger seat with someone beside her.

"She insisted on coming. Said she wanted to watch a movie," Abigail said, helpless about Taylor Swift playing third wheel today.

"You've got a man with you, but I'm all alone. Can you really bear to ditch me?" Taylor hooked her arm through Abigail's, leaning on her shoulder.

Ryan didn't say anything. The three of them went into the theater together. Taylor was up to her old tricks—fully decked out in a cap.

"I want to see Paranormal Activity!" Taylor pointed at the poster and yelled as soon as she walked in.

"I want to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall. I'm in the mood for a romance," Abigail chimed in.

They both turned to Ryan in unison.

"I don't like either of those movies," Ryan said, shaking his head as he held up three tickets in his hand.

"Boom..." On the big screen, Robert Downey Jr. in a suit stumbled from the dust storm kicked up by a missile explosion, nearly falling over.

The audience laughed.

Among the three, Abigail sat in the middle, with Ryan and Taylor on either side.

"Don't look at your phone in the theater. Who are you chatting with?" Abigail craned her neck.

"Who's Elizabeth?" Abigail's voice suddenly shot up.

Ryan immediately turned off his phone and started watching the movie. As Abigail's voice grew louder, disturbing others, he quietly explained.

"A fan? You're really nice to your female fans, chatting with them even during a movie," Abigail sneered.

Elizabeth Debicki had just woken up and sent Ryan a reply—that was all.

Then Abigail turned to the other side, only to find Taylor smiling at her, as if to say, "Don't blame me for not warning you."

Halfway through the movie, Abigail got up to use the restroom. Taylor immediately slid over to sit next to Ryan.

"It's time," Taylor whispered to Ryan.

"Time for what?" Ryan noticed Taylor had been acting jumpy lately, often saying weird things.

"To set off the nuke! Leak the song! We'll hit the front page of entertainment mags in no time!" Taylor finally blurted out what had been weighing on her mind.

Her earlier hints had been a kind of signal—this wasn't something she should have to bring up herself. But with the Harlem shake blowing up right now, it was a rare window for "igniting gossip."

"What song?" Ryan genuinely didn't get it.

"Stop pretending!" Taylor grabbed Ryan's arm, then looked back, noticing Abigail returning. She quickly got up and sat back in her seat.

"What were you two just talking about?" Abigail looked at Taylor.

"Chatting about the new song."

"I didn't follow the plot just now."

Taylor and Ryan spoke at the same time, but said completely different things.

"I don't want to watch anymore. Ryan, let's go," Abigail said, unable to sit still any longer.

Late at night, Ryan quietly got up, making sure not to wake Abigail beside him, and silently slipped into the bathroom.

"Don't call me anymore. I'm afraid Abigail will misunderstand." Ryan frowned deeply.

"Then when are you going to leak that song?" Taylor asked on the other end of the line.

"What song exactly?"

"The one I wrote for you, 'Fucking Afternoon'!"

Ryan's head buzzed, and in an instant, many things clicked into place.

Why Taylor had handed him that song back then—it was all for this moment!

For the sake of so-called "buzz," Taylor had laid her plans long and painstakingly.

Was it worth it?

Maybe it was. The "celebrity" market was already a red ocean. The vast majority of new singers remained obscure their whole lives, while a lucky few burned bright for a while before being quickly forgotten.

To stay famous long-term, you needed the right time, place, and people—and an extra underhanded move wasn't out of the question. Considering some people had leaked sex tapes just to get famous, Taylor's scheme was small potatoes by comparison.

"In other words, you already had a plan, and I just happened to show up that day, right?" Ryan sneered, turning the question back on her.

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"I... don't worry about that. When are you going to leak the song?" Taylor pressed on.

"Next life. I deleted that song a long time ago." Ryan let out a relieved smile.

"Deleted? Wait—"

Ryan hung up the phone directly, looked at himself in the mirror, and couldn't help shaking his head.

He had even deleted the song out of fear that leaking it would negatively affect Taylor.

"So this is the entertainment industry?" Ryan let out a scornful laugh.

He silently returned to Abigail's side and lay down without a sound. At that moment, Abigail was facing away from Ryan. Even Ryan didn't notice that Abigail had had her eyes open the entire time...

·

"Deleted?" Taylor put down her phone, not even processing it at first.

She sent Ryan another text, but it failed to deliver. She called again, and it was rejected outright—clearly, her number had been blocked.

"Blocking me?" For a split second, Taylor's first reaction was a sheepish smile. She felt embarrassed.

"How dare you block me?!" In the next second, Taylor was gritting her teeth in fury, veins bulging on her forehead. She clenched her fists, swung her arms down hard, looking for something to punch.

Scenes from the month-plus she'd known Ryan flashed through her mind.

His threats, his charge during football, the flicker of surprise when he heard her new song, his smug grin, his awkward nervousness in her home, the flash of shock on his face when he heard the new song, the deleted track...

"Actually, I kind of envy your creative ability..."

Ryan's words echoed in her mind.

But maybe he'd used it in the wrong place, Taylor thought with a bitter laugh. The next second, she burst into loud, wailing sobs. The commotion was so great that her parents and younger brother were startled and pushed open her door.

"What's wrong, dear?" Taylor's mother, Andrea, hurried over to her side.

"Wahhhh..." Taylor threw herself into her mother's arms.

He had had countless chances to release that song, but he hadn't. Instead, he had quietly deleted it.

Spotting the Billboard magazine ranking chart beside her hand, Taylor grabbed it, rolled it up, and tossed it into the trash can...