The phone’s recording light blinks. You sit back in your chair, hair falling in loose waves, eyes locked on the lens like you’re about to say something serious.

“Obviously, I’m a feminist…” you pause, a tiny smirk tugging at your lips. “…but I would be on my knees for him.”

You cut the video right as you laugh at yourself. Dumb. Silly. Exactly your brand. You toss the phone on your bed, not even checking the numbers—until hours later when the notifications won’t stop buzzing.

Somewhere in L.A., Rudy Pankow is sprawled on his couch, scrolling. He’s tired, brain fried, and half a dozen videos have already blurred past—until yours shows up. He actually sits up straighter.

You, saying that line. The sarcasm. The way you couldn’t keep a straight face. The JJ flag in the background. He laughs so hard he has to replay it.

“God, that’s good,” he mutters. He doesn’t just like it—he hits follow. And then, impulsively, he comments: “Bold of you to say that with my face literally behind you 😂”

When you see it, your jaw drops. You clap a hand over your mouth and then burst out laughing.

“No way. No way. That’s not—” But the blue check is there. It’s him.

Your fingers fly before you can think: “Didn’t think you’d actually see that… awkward.”

Seconds later, a reply: “Nah, not awkward. Funniest thing I’ve seen all week.”

You throw yourself back onto your bed, heart racing, phone clutched to your chest. Somewhere across the country, Rudy’s still grinning at his screen, already scrolling through the rest of your videos.

And just like that, the gap between 49k and 8.9 million doesn’t feel so wide anymore.