She nodded. “ChimeIn is a social networking service. We’re growing like crazy. Most of our users are teens and college kids,” she added, opening a browser on a massive, humming computer. “They upload photos, fill out these fun profile questions—favorite band, movie, embarrassing crush—and start connecting. The idea is community. Like an online diary that talks back. Some people use it to connect with friends and document their wild Friday night, while others use it for dating. Some people just like reading what strangers are thinking about. It’s a space where people feel like they can be themselves.” The screen flashed with updates and new posts. “And, of course, we’ve got ads. That’s how we keep it free for users. It’s been a great model so far. The more engagement we get, the more advertisers want to be a part of it.”

I blinked at the screen, watching posts ripple down the feed.

need a new band to obsess over. recs??

got my heart broken again. someone tell me why i still care.

debating whether to cut my own bangs....

CRUSH UPDATE: she smiled at me!!!!!

who else is guilty of stalking their ex on here?

random but does anyone actually have their life figured out or are we all faking it?

A reply popped up instantly.

we’re all faking it, but at least we’re in it together <3

I stared, transfixed. It was weirdly hypnotic—as if I was eavesdropping on thousands of private thoughts all tumbling through the same electric hallway. And yet it didn’t feel invasive.

It felt…intimate. Like everyone was writing into the void, hoping someone might answer back.

It did sound like something that would be viral immediately. Like something everyone at school would talk about before first period even started. Did you see what Jennifer posted last night?

I could already imagine Tiffany scrolling through it obsessively. Jamal would absolutely be in the comments, debating strangers about who deserved the ‘90s rap crown—2Pac or Nas—refusing to back down. There was the adrenaline of it—of being seen, even if just for a second. The rush of getting a reaction. A like, a comment, a message that said you’re right. Maybe it was silly. Maybe it was everything.

“It’s addictive,” Maxine said, as if she was reading my mind. “People want to feel seen. They are hungry for connection. And we’re giving them a new way to find it.”

I let out a breath. “Yeah, it sounds big.”

“It is,” she said with a small, proud smile. “And it’s making a lot of money. We’re expanding faster than we expected.”

I looked around again, nodding slowly.