She Was Bored Of This Conversation Now. Clearly Rachel Didn't Think She'd Ever Be Capable Of Doing Anything

She was bored of this conversation now. Clearly Rachel didn't think she'd ever be capable of doing anything bad ever, and Madisyn simply didn't have the patience to explain it to her. Maybe she'd befriend a preschool teacher to get it into this woman's head that actions had consequences, and that profitting off someone's downfall was wrong. "Not just me babe, if you ever get a recommendation for a Raya application, you'd see what I mean." Drunk scrolling through the exclusive app had made it clear that a lot of famous faces — even in specific circles — were drawn to this little slice of midwestern nothingness, for whatever reason. The clerk manning the stall made their presence known, and Madi decided that enough was enough, putting down a bottle of each color on the surface, shooting Rachel a pointed look. "Well, see you around." And with swift payment of her purchases, walked away with the stall with the mental note to Google exactly who this Rachel Han was.

End.

Rachel didn't quite understand what the insinuation was other than maybe a her trying to say that she was profiting off Madisyn's 'misery.' It was truly the lack of accountability that didn't make the journalist feel super sympathetic. "Clout wasn't really something I was seeking, if you recall it was just supposed to be a special interest piece. They don't usually give those to people who are making the big bucks." Not that really any one in print media went into the field with a promise of large salaries. And unlike the other woman, she didn't do things in order to see how many likes and views she got on her articles. She raised a brow as Madisyn claimed that this place was up-and-coming. "Why do you think that? Because you decided to move here?" Rachel asked, her tone trying to become more genuine in asking rather than accusatory. The woman had reinvented herself twice already and though she'd gotten 'cancelled,' Rachel knew that when it came to social media stars they always found a way to stick around and shift target demographics. She wondered what Madisyn's demographic was this time.

BRITNEY SPEARS — Work Bitch, 2013

There’d be some miserable trolls out there who would have frowned in disapprovement at Madisyn’s desire to check in with the online world at any given moment. In fact a few of them — decrepit and wrinkly, like they were here the day Blue Harbor was founded — were inside pretending to give a shit about charity, when all they wanted was to boast about themselves and their millions in the bank account. Okay, sure, Madisyn wasn’t like the most attentive to the goings on in the town, but as an out and proud bisexual woman who attended fundraisers for organizations like The Trevor Project in the past, at least her being here made a lick of sense.

Plus, camaraderie and all for the farm. Winter was coming or whatever that sad homeless man on Game of Thrones said. She didn’t know, she didn’t watch it. Either way, the farm would struggle when the temperatures dropped to what she presumed would be Arctic conditions. So really, it’d be handy to keep in the good pockets of the town’s generous benefactors…

Regardless, it did mean she had to step outside to get some content filmed, away from judgemental looks and all that. TikTok wasn’t exactly the money making scheme that YouTube or her Instagram sponsorships were, but the more you gave, the nicer the algorithm was, and it was a bit of extra cash for fun things like shoes, not necessarily money she had to funnel into the care of the farm. Her camera was ready to go, and she was about to click on the timer when a voice —  hazy and slow — interrupted her.

“I am.” Her tone was a bit pressed as she looked up, scowling at the man, scrunching her nose as she scanned him over, itemizing every single detail about him on offer. He was cute, in a malnourished way, like he was just begging for someone to tuck him up in bed and feed him soup. But it was also mid-morning and he stunk of weed, bloodshot eyes the biggest tell-tale sign of them all. What a waste…

“Is there a problem with that?” 

closed starter for @themadisynhuang, cantwell country club, weissberg law firm charity luncheon.

so maybe he hadn't made a career out of his time on the internet like madisyn huang had, but youtube.com/drzeemo has to be credited for his aspirations to become a comedian. his jackass-esque stunts along with a couple of his bedroom skits (some of which have been immortalized into the vernacular of late millennials and gen z's) were never quite monetized, but it did pave the way for him stepping up on a stage with a mic and a couple of jokes he'd written on the back of a starbucks receipt.

so he thinks he shares some similarities with the influencer who, for some reason, is now living in blue harbor and, last time he checked, looking after a farm. far from the glamour of a beauty guru or a food vlogger, but, well, she's still still on the internet. still somewhat relevant, or trying to be.

"are you filming a tiktok?" he says, approaching the influencer at one of the cocktail tables by the garden. there's light jazz playing on the outdoor speakers, concealed somewhere amongst the foliage. the faint smell of weed clings to the fibers of his wool sweater, eyes just a tad puffy, and confidence boosted for all the wrong reasons or he wouldn't dare approach madisyn first. she could just be checking a message or even her makeup on her front camera for all he knows but the question comes out before it could even pass through either hemisphere of his brain.

NORMANI Expensive Taste Test | Cosmopolitan

His answer was so straight-forward yet vague, and Madisyn couldn't help but laugh. "You'd be a pretty shitty landscaper if you didn't." She pointed out. Who did jobs if they didn't love the work after all? Still, if there was more to his choice of vocation, Madisyn wasn't going to pry. Honestly, she didn't care all that much.

She frowned at the idea of other water features, even still water causing her stomach to churn, thoughts of Natalie Wood flashing through her mind. "We'll circle back to that, I need to think." Which of course, was the polite way of saying 'absolutely fucking not'. But this was just their first meeting after all, she was sure they'd work something out. "So, when can you start?"

Jack didn't know if it was much a case of having ‘the eye’ for things as it was being decently able to read clients—a skill that seemed to surprise. He supposed he couldn't blame them given his deficiencies in socialising and manners, but experience had taught him well. It was easy when gardens were involved. It was just every other topic of conversation he struggled with. He did have a couple of friends now though, if that was what he could call them, so he thought he might be getting better at it though. Shrugging, he gave her the standard answer. “I like plants.”

That was a fair enough response. Personally, he liked the sound. A small creek ran down the back of the woods on the edge of his property and it was one of his favourite features, but it clearly wasn't for everyone. “Alright. No running water. What about still water? A pond, a wishing well, anything like that?”

tagging @themadisynhuang