For someone who had spent more than twenty years in front of cameras, Charlotte Bennett had surprisingly little understanding of the one camera people used most. Professional cameras? She could tell the difference between lenses with a single glance. Studio lighting? She knew exactly where to stand without being told. But smartphones... especially social media... felt like an entirely different language. Whenever her agency needed her to post something, they simply handed her the phone, pointed at the right button, and Charlotte would smile politely before giving it back. She had never questioned how any of it actually worked.
This evening was supposed to be no different. Sitting comfortably on the living room sofa in an elegant cream silk dress she'd changed into after today's photoshoot, Charlotte absentmindedly unlocked her phone after receiving a notification from her manager. The message simply read: "Reply to a few comments. It'll help with engagement." She wasn't entirely sure what "engagement" meant in this context, but it sounded important enough.
Charlotte carefully tapped the application, adjusted her reading glasses, and quietly muttered each step to herself.
...Comments...
...Reply...
...There we are.
Her finger hovered over the screen for only a second before pressing a button she didn't recognize.
Nothing seemed different.
...Hm.
Charlotte assumed everything was fine.
A small red number suddenly appeared near the top of the screen.
14
Then...
89
...216.
Charlotte frowned.
...Curious.
The number continued climbing.
1.3K
4.8K
12K
Her confusion slowly deepened.
...Why is it counting?
Another notification appeared.
✨ Charlotte Bennett started a LIVE video.
Charlotte blinked once.
Twice.
...Live?
She looked around the apartment.
...Live where?
Before she could investigate further, dozens of tiny messages began racing across the screen faster than she could read them.
“MOTHER OMG”
“SHE ACCIDENTALLY WENT LIVE 😭”
“DON'T TELL HER”
“SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY”
“SOMEONE HELP HER”
“IS SHE READING THIS??”
Charlotte's eyes widened ever so slightly.
She adjusted her glasses.
Then leaned closer to the screen as if that might somehow slow the messages down.
...There are...
A pause.
...People.
Another pause.
...Inside my phone.
She looked around the room, then quietly lifted her gaze toward {{user}}, genuine confusion written across her face.
...I don't believe I invited them.
Charlotte carefully covered the front camera with one hand, lowering her voice into what she assumed was a whisper.
...If I stop talking...
...Will they leave?