Back at Zoey's house, it did not take long for Hannah to arrive.
Zoey had barely returned her attention to the silent message thread on her phone when several hard knocks struck the front door.
She got up from her chair, rubbing the red mark on her forehead as she crossed the living room. The mark still stung a little when her fingers passed over it, an irritating reminder of the way she had managed to end an otherwise successful afternoon.
The moment she opened the door, Hannah walked straight past her.
Her attention remained fixed on her phone as she crossed the entryway and headed into the living room without so much as a greeting. There was no hesitation in the way she moved through the house. Hannah had visited often enough that the idea of waiting to be invited inside had apparently disappeared somewhere along the way.
"Hello to you too."
Hannah gave no response.
Zoey closed the door and followed her.
By the time she reached the living room, Hannah had already connected her phone to the small projector. The wall flickered blue while the connection established itself, then changed to a compilation of clips from the skincare stream.
A title filled the projection.
ZOEY SURVIVES ONE HOUR WITH THE FINAL BOSS
The view counter had already climbed into the thousands.
Zoey stopped beside the sofa.
"No."
Hannah placed one hand on her waist and briefly adjusted her glasses with the other.
"Where to begin?"
"Nowhere. We can begin nowhere."
Hannah tapped the screen.
The first clip opened on Layla leaning close to inspect Zoey's face. Whoever had made the compilation had chosen the exact moment when Zoey's eyes were wide, her shoulders stiff, and the color in her cheeks impossible to miss.
A heartbeat sound effect started underneath it.
The video zoomed violently into her face.
In love?!
Hannah paused the clip.
Zoey stared at the enormous image of herself covering half the wall.
"First observation."
Hannah pointed toward the projection.
"You have never looked at another human being normally in your entire life?"
"She was inspecting my skin."
"Are you saying her proximity made you forget how to behave in modern society?."
Zoey quickly stepped between Hannah and the wall.
The projector simply transferred the image onto the front of her hoodie and across her face.
"Those edits are dishonest. They cut out context."
Hannah checked the clip on her phone.
"This clip is over a minute long. Did you forget how to blink?"
Zoey opened her mouth, but no answer followed.
Hannah resumed the compilation.
The next clip showed Layla calmly declaring Zoey's skin "not endangered." The editor had immediately followed it with dramatic footage of a hospital monitor stabilizing.
Zoey lowered herself onto the sofa.
"I hate the internet."
"It's your workplace."
"That was before it betrayed me!"
Hannah swiped to the next saved clip.
This one returned to the question Zoey had been trying not to think about since Layla left.
On the wall, Zoey asked whether Layla had watched any of her previous streams. Layla's refusal to answer had been stretched out with dramatic music, repeated zooms, and a flashing red circle around her face.
Hannah paused it and adjusted her glasses.
"Second observation."
Zoey pulled the cushion beside her a little closer.
"She absolutely watched your streams. We need to know when and which ones."
"And you want to know because...?"
"To make sure she didn't watch the worst ones. Your VODs aren't even sub-only. Anyone can watch them. Like when you stuffed twenty-four marshmallows into your mouth to, and I quote, establish a record. Or your groundbreaking work for gender equality: proving women can play 'guess my fart' too."
Hannah began scrolling through the available recordings.
With every movement of her thumb, Zoey remembered another stream she would rather Layla never discover.
"Those were isolated incidents."
Hannah stopped scrolling.
"They happened three streams apart."
"That still makes them isolated."
"You also tried to cook pasta using an electric kettle."
"The stove was too far from the camera."
Hannah raised her attention from the phone.
"The camera is movable, you know."
Zoey pulled the cushion against her chest and sank deeper into the sofa.
"Why do you remember everything?"
"Because i am your best friend."
"Are you?!"
"Seriously, how do you even get sponsors?"
Hannah's expression was enough to make Zoey lower her eyes. She remained tucked against the cushion while Hannah returned to the compilation and rewound it to Layla's final comments during the stream.
Layla's face appeared on the wall.
"You were less chaotic than I expected."
Hannah paused immediately.
"There."
She pointed toward the projection.
"That sentence requires a point of comparison."
"Maybe she was warned about me."
"By whom? Have you been hiding an entourage of ethereal creatures from me, ones who, from time to time, display their unearthly beauty on social media to make us believe they belong to the ranks of ordinary mortals?"
Zoey tried to come up with an answer.
Nothing convincing presented itself.
Hannah folded her arms.
"She knew your normal level of chaos before meeting you."
Zoey stayed tucked behind the cushion, her mouth pressed into its edge.
"So... she watched my streams..." she muttered into it.
"She probably wanted to know what kind of disaster she was walking into."
The cushion did little to hide the color spreading to the tips of Zoey's ears.
Hannah stared at her.
"Why does that look like it makes you happy?"
"N-no reason!"
Hannah's attention shifted to the narrow red mark beneath Zoey's bangs.
"What did you do?"
Zoey immediately pulled the cushion higher.
"Nothing."
Hannah adjusted her glasses.
"Did you walk into the door after she left?"
Zoey went quiet.
She kept the cushion in place and turned her face aside.
Hannah sighed.
"Do not document that."
Zoey's phone remained on the table beside the sofa, the conversation with Layla still open on its screen. Her long message occupied almost the entire display.
Hannah noticed it and reached for the phone.
Zoey snatched it from the table first and held it against her chest.
Hannah turned toward her.
"What did you send?"
"Nothing."
"That nothing has three paragraphs."
"It was a professional thank-you message."
Hannah held out her hand.
"Let me see."
Zoey gripped the phone with both hands and retreated to the opposite end of the sofa.
"Absolutely not."
Hannah moved closer.
Zoey's attention suddenly fixed on her face.
"Wait. Are those fake glasses?"
"No."
"Since when do you wear glasses?"
"Don't change the subject. Give me the phone."
"No."
"Give it. I said."
Hannah reached for it.
"Nooo!"
Zoey twisted away, clutching the phone against her chest. Hannah caught her wrist and tried to pull it back, and within seconds both of them were fighting over it across the sofa.
"Let go!"
"You let go!"
The sofa shifted.
Neither of them noticed.
Then one of its back legs lifted from the floor.
"Wait."
The sofa tipped backward.
"AH!"
CRASH!
Silence.
A small laugh broke it.
Another followed.
Then both of them lost it.
The sofa lay tipped onto its back, cushions scattered around it. Beside it, Zoey and Hannah were sprawled across the floor, the phone still trapped between their hands.
Neither seemed particularly interested in winning anymore.