hope she chokes and dies on all the money she got

sell out

#notourprincess

That [censored] needs a cheeseburger

Jess’s so fat must be the stress getting to her

Go ruin some other franchise, faker!

They are endless. And I am so tired of them already. I begin my daily routine of reporting and blocking, reporting and blocking, but my thumb stalls on the screen. What’s the use? They’ll just come back tomorrow, and bring their friends, and I will still be one girl standing in the mouth of the Black Nebula as it opens wide and they wait for me to self-destruct.

I won’t give them that pleasure.

But I don’t know what else to do. The contract might be in the bottom of the trash, but I’ll still have to sign it. I’ll still be here.

I drop my phone and grab a pillow, pressing it against my face, and cry.

Imogen

“JESSICA!”

I look up at the barista, who slides a cup across the counter. My heart skips a beat until I notice Brienne of Tarth pushing through the line to get her drink. I exhale and turn my attention back to my phone, where I’m sending another furious tweet to a Twitter troll who can’t seem to get his head out of his nostalgia hole. Jessica Stone didn’t ruin Princess Amara’s character, I want to type, but I know that if I reply to every one of these garbage cans, I’ll find myself in troll hell.

The barista approaches the counter with four drinks in a tray and squints at the name. “IHM-OH-GEN-NE?”

“Well that’s one way to say it,” I murmur as I elbow my way to get my order. Two hazelnut lattes, an iced caramel macchiato, and whatever the hell Milo ordered. My phone must have dinged twenty times—can’t he just be patient?

I shift the bag of vegan tacos to the hand that’s holding my phone and grab the tray with the other.

One-handed texting, here we go.

Oh my God, he’s not patient at all.

MILO (6:57 PM)

—Got the grub?

—Hey, hey you.

MILO (7:00 PM)

—HAVE YOU BEEN EATEN BY A WOOKIEE?

MILO (7:01 PM)

—DO I HAVE TO GO SOLO NOW?

MILO (7:01 PM)

—COME BACK TO THE HOTEL TO LEIA YOUR HEAD DOWN.

—PS - I got some MEGA SUPER ULTRA WTF STARFIELD news to SHOW YOU

MILO (7:07 PM)

—No like really where are you do I have to release the hounds.

Release the hounds is code for texting our mothers. Ugh, he’s more dramatic than I am. Tray in one hand, vegan taco bag looped around the other, I reply—

IMOGEN (7:08 PM)

—OMG CHILL OUT leaving now

—Also Wookiees don’t eat humans, they’d be too chewie.

MILO (7:08 PM)

—this is bran pls bring food faster

—milo is about to go full super saiyan he’s so hangry

IMOGEN (7:08 PM)