She’s an inspiration and my biggest fan.
“The snow is falling.” Switching the view to the mountain, I slowly pan the slope before bringing the camera back to me. “How about we go inside and get warm?”
Pausing to go inside, I set Grace’s tripod up by my fireplace and hit record again. Then I place a few choice pieces of wood into the fire and grab the poker.Stroking the length of it, teasing my audience, I say, “Lay back and relax. Let me take care of you.”
It feels so weird doing stuff like this. I’m still awkward, but it helps that Grace is literally stretched out on my sofa, watching me like a spoiled house cat.
“Is that better?” I ask, cocking my brow. “Good. Now how about we lay here all day and keep each otherwarm.” I slowly unbutton my shirt and then drop character to hit stop on the recording.
“How’s that?” I ask, feeling super self-conscious.
“Really good.”
There’s a hiddenbutin there. “No critique at all? That’s very un-Grace like.”
She curls up with my blanket and shrugs. “It’s a perfect thirst trap.”
There’s something about her tone that makes me second-guess every video I’ve done. “Should it be more than that?”
Grace sighs. “Not necessarily, but… if you want them to keep coming back, make a connection.”
That sounds fake and weird. “How?”
“Boost them up. Act like you care about them.”
Sitting next to her, with my shirt half-unbuttoned, I rest my elbows on my knees and stare at the fire. “I don’t think I can make a fake connection like that, Grace. It doesn’t feel genuine.” The only connection I want to foster is one with her. No one else.
“I’m not saying be their boyfriend, but social media is an addictive beast. If they’re going to search for another hit of dopamine, let it be something uplifting. This video was a great transition into that. You showed a willingness to take care of them.”
I don’t like this. “The last thing I want is to lead people on.”
“You’ve been flirting your ass off making thirst traps for over a year, Dean.” Her tone screams annoyance. “Just take it to the next level.”
“I don’t—”
“Look at mine.” She sits up and opens her phone, quickly tapping an app. I’ve yet to study Grace’s social media. Why scroll posts when I have the real thing right at my fingertips?
But I see what she means. Most of her content has a positive message attached to it. Yesterday, she was in a heather gray sweater, jeans, a knit hat, and hefty gold earrings. She sat out in the snow and just laughed. That’s it. Afterwards, she screenshotted a few parts of her short clip, adjusted the lighting, and cropped the photos to showcase the earrings best. The caption said,“Sparkle like the golden goddess you are,”with an upbeat song attached and she tagged the jeweler.
This woman makes it all look so simple. Her class, sex appeal, and… well, grace is unmatched. She has an element of success I’ll never achieve because it’s authentically her. But the comments below make me want to try to do the same thing she is.
I needed this today!
I’m gonna sparkle until I blind my ex-boyfriend with my light #youfumbledthis
I love it when you show up on my feed. You always make me smile.
Nice pic! Love the hat! Too bad you’re a cunt.
Whoa. Hold up. I read that shit comment two more times because my brain refuses to believeanyone would talk to my girl like that. “What the fuck?”
Grace snags the phone from me. “Ignore it, babe. Haters gonna hate.”
I want to find whoever that is and skin them alive. “No one should talk to you that way.”
“It’s the internet. Trolls rule the land there.”
How can she be so chill about a cruel comment like that?
