“Coming right up,” she says, motioning to the small row of tables up against the wall. “Sit wherever you like.”
“Thanks.” I’m still clutching the paper in my hand, my fingers beginning to ache a little. I can barely contai
n myself. It’s not excitement exactly, and it’s not anxiety. What could she possibly want to tell me?
I pull the chair out and sit down, looking around. There are only two other patrons in the place, and they seem caught up in their own business.
I pull out the envelope, smoothing it against the chipped Formica table. My heart is beating fast. Oh Kelsey, how did we get to this point? Why aren’t we both here together right now, just having a diner breakfast? Why are you only a letter to me, and a strange inheritance?
The waitress sets down the coffee and pie with a smile. “There you are. Free refills.”
“Thanks.” I might need them. Involuntarily I shiver. My mother used to say I would get cold whenever I was emotional, and now it’s become a bit of a sign to me that I am not exactly handling things well once I start shivering.
My mind goes back to King, and his hands on me, slithering up and down my body, stealing sensations out of me, making me feel. I needed it, because otherwise I was grieving too hard. Too much.
The envelope just sits there. It’s mocking me with its false innocuousness. Why does it scare me so? It’s just paper. I take another sip of my coffee. For all I know, it could be a sweet message that just tells me she loves me and wants the best for me. So why does it remind me of King and his desire? What could Kelsey have done to make this money?
The waitress looks at me. “Everything okay, honey?” she asks. “You want anything else?”
“Not right now, thanks,” I say brightly.
“You want the bill? Up to you. There ain’t nobody else in here, so you can stay as long as you want.”
“I think I’ll just hang out for a bit, thanks,” I answer.
“Suit yourself,” she says, and walks away, purposefully wiping a few tables as she goes.
I wish things were simple. Why didn’t I just learn how to deal with life, and death, in a normal way? Do other people?
The envelope stares at me.
I pick it up, run my fingers over the seam. My finger flirts with the folded paper, going into the opening. It gives way a little, and a little more. It becomes a challenge to unstick the fold without ripping the paper. Can I do it? I slowly, slowly pull one side from another. Ahh! A rip.
You’re just stalling, Jordan. Knock it off. It’s Kelsey’s voice, ringing out loud and clear in my head. Open the fucking envelope.
I take my knife and slide it into the crease and pull, and the envelope opens cleanly. I tap the paper out and open it, smoothing the paper on the table again.
Dear Jordan
If you’re reading this, I’m dead. I hope you never read this otherwise, because you’d kill me. The first thing I want to say is that I apologize. I don’t know what to tell you, but I hope that in some way giving you all the money I earned—and I’m using that word ‘earned’ loosely—basically all the money I have will ease the pain of the truth.
I swallow, hard. What the fuck Kelsey, what did you do?
I can see your face right now, and it’s killing me. You know I love you right? I do. I love you tons. But I have a secret.
You see, when I met Graham—you remember him, in high school—he gave me this idea, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. He said that if I just filmed myself at home and put it on the internet, that people would pay to follow me and see me just do normal things, and some not normal things, like shower and you know, stuff you do in your bedroom. Anyway I thought he was crazy, and I still do, but that was a really exciting idea for me.
So anyway, I didn’t want to do it myself, unless I knew it would work. So I decided to use you as my guinea pig. Don’t be mad! Please! At first, I just hid a small camera in your room, and I just streamed it for me. It was exciting to see you when you didn’t know I was there, and I realized the idea had potential.
Then I put a few more cameras in your room. And I made a website. I told a few people in the industry, and they passed the word along. It was a pay subscription. And I started pulling in money. More than you could ever imagine. So I did more. I put a camera in your bathroom, and a few more in your apartment, and more money started rolling in. I got pretty excited about it, and started investing, saving, and... spending.
Remember when I bought you those great shoes from Jimmy Choo? And you walked around your bedroom naked in those shoes? They paid for themselves a million times over. You might wonder why I bought you a few more pairs of shoes. Well that’s why.
Don’t kill me, Jordan! I know, I’m dead already. But don’t be mad. You’re famous! In certain circles, anyway. You’re a big star. And people love you. So I’m giving you all the money you made, and I’m giving you control of the site, so you can redirect the cash to yourself.
Of course, you can shut the whole thing down if you want to. But once you see how much money you can make, you might not want to. At least that’s what happened to me. I hope you understand. I feel really bad about it, but that’s why I’m giving you all this that’s left, and the info to make more.
One more thing. Your fans really get off on the idea that you don’t know they’re watching. So unless you want to lose a lot of fans, don’t change anything you do. Okay?