INVESTIGATOR: I’m not at liberty to say anything further until we have your complete statement.
THORN: I don’t know what to do. Shit. I didn’t mean any harm. I know it seems sketchy, but I never meant it to go that far. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. People set up fake accounts all the time. I was just going to tweet one thing and then deactivate. It was just a prank, really. I mean, that can’t be a crime. MTV had a whole show called Punk’d, for God’s sake! Ashton Kutcher faked all kinds of shit. He, like, faked people’s deaths! Didn’t he? Way worse than some Twitter account. That was before that Catfish show though. Is that illegal now?
INVESTIGATOR: So you did in fact create the Twitter account with username @EricThornSucks on August 12, 2016?
THORN: Huh? Oh right. Yes.
INVESTIGATOR: And you did not deactivate it or transfer it to another account owner at any point?
THORN: No, but I only used it to talk to her.
INVESTIGATOR: To talk to Tessa Hart?
THORN: Right. We stayed up all night that first night, DM’ing each other. We just connected really fast. I know it sounds strange. I can get lonely sometimes. I’m on the road all the time, and it’s hard to know who to trust. I don’t have a lot of friends. And the Dorian Cromwell thing had me all twisted in a knot. It was just a safe way for me to confide in someone.
INVESTIGATOR: You confided specific details of your personal life to Ms. Hart using this Twitter account?
THORN: Yeah. I mean, I-I kind of…distorted it a little.
INVESTIGATOR: Can you be more specific?
THORN: Well, you saw the messages. She thought my name was Taylor. I told her I was stuck in a contract for a job I hated, but I didn’t tell her what kind of job. I kind of made it sound like I was a traveling salesman or something. I might have let her believe I was a little older. That’s what she assumed anyway, and I didn’t correct her. And I told her someone else in the same job had been stalked and killed recently, but I didn’t say… You know. I didn’t say it was Dorian.
INVESTIGATOR: Anything else?
THORN: Probably. It was just the details though. I had to change certain things to protect myself, but the feelings were true. I know it was just texting over Twitter, but we kind of…took care of each other. We always made each other feel better—even when it seemed like everything else in our lives was going straight to hell.
9
HE SAID, SHE SAID
September 15, 2016
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Thorn.”
Eric shot a limp salute to the flight attendant who stood before him in a formfitting, blue uniform. He had to admit, fame sometimes had its perks. He didn’t miss the indignities of commercial air travel. Far more civilized to make the trip from LA to Seattle on his label’s private jet.
“Call me Eric,” he said with a self-deprecating shrug.
The flight attendant smiled back warmly and leaned closer over the armrest of his chair. “Is there anything I can get you from the galley to start you off?” The top two buttons of her blouse had come undone, and her arm brushed lightly against his shoulder.
In a different mood, he might have ordered a bowl of mixed nuts and asked her to join him for a snack. But he had other plans today…
“No, thanks. I’m going to grab a nap, if you don’t mind.” Eric pushed the lever to recline his seat. He already had one hand in his pocket, reaching for his phone. He hoped this flight attendant wouldn’t be the type who insisted on checking in with him every five minutes. As an afterthought, he jerked a thumb at the man who sat on the other side of the aisle. “Maury over there will take a Jack and Coke.”
His manager had taken out his cell phone the moment they stepped on board, and Eric was grateful for the excuse not to talk. He didn’t know how much time he had before Maury interrupted, but perhaps he could manage to scrape together a few minutes. He might not get another chance all afternoon—and he knew he would be otherwise occupied that night.
The flight attendant teetered away on her high-heeled pumps, and Eric rolled onto his side, presenting her with a view of his turned back. He pulled out his phone and rested it on the seat beside him, shielded from view by his body.
As he fired up Twitter, he couldn’t help thinking how far he’d come in the past month. Back in August when he first created the fake account, he would’ve been way too paranoid to open it anywhere in his manager’s vicinity. He’d been feeling less anxious in general lately. Less quick tempered. More relaxed. His secret message exchange with Tessa had more than a little to do with the transformation.
It just felt good to have a simple friendship: a pressure valve where he could release all the stresses of the day. He could vent to her about his irritating “manager” at work. She could complain about her crappy boyfriend back at home. Just normal conversations that most people took for granted, but Eric hadn’t had a friend like that in years.
The Twitter home screen came up, and he smiled. A new message.
Tessa H: Are you online?
Eric darted a glance over his shoulder. Maury was still yakking on his phone, with a cocktail glass balanced in one hand. The flight attendant had disappeared into the galley.
He hastily texted back.
Taylor: For now. I’m on a plane. Might have to log off quickly…
Tessa H: Traveling again? That sounds fun.
Eric snorted. Fun? Not exactly. More like stressful and exhausting.
Taylor: Nah. Work trip. I’d pretty much rather blow my brains out, but what else is new.
Tessa H: You shouldn’t joke about that, Taylor.
Taylor: Sorry. Just an expression. So what’s up? Did you hear from Scott?
Tessa H: Nope. Not a peep. He’s kind of being a jerk at the moment.
Taylor: You should talk to him, Tessa. Stop messaging me and go call your boyfriend.
Tessa H: Maybe later. I have therapy in a sec. I’m just waiting for Dr. Regan to show up.
Taylor: Uh-oh. Have you been projecting again, young lady?
Eric bit down on the back of his thumb to stifle a laugh. He got such a kick from throwing all her Freudian mumbo jumbo back in her face. The two of them could go back and forth for hours, calling each other out on their various psychological shortcomings.
Tessa H: Of course. Projecting all day long. Except when I’m too busy catastrophizing…
Taylor: Catastrophizing? Pretty sure that’s not a word.
Tessa H: Pretty sure it is, and you do it all the time.
Eric tittered. This ought to be good.
Taylor: Such as?
Tessa H: You’d rather blow your brains out?
Taylor: OK, Dr. Tessa. That might have been a slight exaggeration.
Tessa H: Where are you headed anyway?
Taylor: Seattle.
He hit Send on the message and immediately winced. Crap. He hadn’t meant to let his guard down quite that much. He normally fudged the truth when it came to geographical locations. He bit his lip, hoping that she wouldn’t put two and two together.
Tessa H: OMG!!! SEATTLE? SERIOUSLY????
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.