Chapter Text
First and foremost, Andy would like to make it clear to anyone who may be listening that she's, like, cool, okay?
She has hobbies and interests. She's got great friends. She dresses pretty well and she's a good cook and she has stylish prints on her apartment walls.
Andy is cool. She is.
And so it doesn't make her a loser that her guilty pleasure is a little different to most people's guilty pleasures.
God, she'd feel a lot better if it was The Real Housewives of Orange County, or salty fries dipped in milkshake, or something. Those feel way less embarrassing to say out loud.
No, unfortunately, Andy's definitely embarrassing guilty pleasure, at the grand age of 29, is…
An influencer.
A fashion influencer at that.
Oh god.
Emily Charlton. Or simply 'emilycharlton' on socials, because she's not the type of girl that messes around with superfluous usernames. A prominent fashion influencer from England based right here in NYC.
And Andy is… well. She's a fan.
But, look, it's not like it's a recent thing, okay? Andy's been following Emily for 7 years now! Since she was 21! She's dedica- no, wrong word. She's not dedicated, but maybe there is a certain element of loyalty there. It's just that it's been so long now, and Andy's grown up through her adult years watching Emily grow up too. It would feel weird not to open Instagram and see Emily's latest vlog or fit check or carousel or whatever.
Plus, Emily is… easy on the eyes. Sue her for enjoying following someone that hot.
And she's not just some vapid idiot (sorry to the vapid idiots, Andy doesn't mean to judge but she's just not into the vacant stares and the stupid hand movements that every single other influencer seems to do). Emily loves fashion, and it shows in just how much she knows about it.
That's why Andy started following her in the first place. During the final year of her journalism degree, she'd been working on a project surrounding the ethical dilemmas of fast fashion. As a huge factor contributing to its popularity is the famous influencers and their cheap hauls, influencing their followers to do the same, Andy needed to do some research and collect some names.
When she stumbled across Emily Charlton, judging her fellow internet celebrities with an incredibly blunt rant about how pathetic you have to be to be caught dead in Shein, Andy hit follow.
Granted, the rant was because "those ugly scraps of polyester look cheap, terribly made, and a seriously embarrassing attempt at real style" rather than the ethical implications, but whatever. Emily was a gorgeous redhead dripping in vintage Vivienne Westwood calling out the boring, unoriginal, and frankly lazy people in her very own industry, and Andy was hooked.
It helps that Emily is self-made. She comes from a normal family in South West London, got into Central Saint Martins to get a degree in womenswear fashion design on her own merits, and followed it with an MA in strategic fashion marketing at the London College of Fashion. During that MA is when Andy started following her, a deadpan, kinda snobby, super intelligent student with huge ambitions, more drive than any of her bland counterparts, and about 200k followers on Instagram.
Andy is not a crazy fan for knowing all that stuff; she just takes note of and appreciates hard work.
After that, Emily shipped herself to New York and landed herself some kind of prestigious internship in the fashion styling department at Runway. By the time that was over, her follower count had grown to nearly 1 million.
Emily's a full time influencer now, but frequently spends time at various fashion houses and Runway, continuously invited into these places for one reason or another that has the other influencers frothing at the mouth.
That's another thing; the rest of them pretty much hate Emily. She's jabbed at more than any other internet personality, that's for sure, but proper attacks fizzled once it was clear that 1) 'normal' people typically respect Emily for her genuine knowledge and insightful content and so cannot be made to hate her, and 2) Emily doesn't give a shit.
Emily never collaborates, never makes friends at events, and never hangs out with other influencers in a leisurely way.
Well, except one.
Which is probably because she's Emily's girlfriend.
Serena Bündchen.
They met at Runway, but didn't start dating until two years ago.
And god, wasn't that 'announcement' a trip.
Outed by another influencer who snapped a photo of the couple kissing outside some event.
The internet was equal parts delighted and furious.
The influencer who outed them lost over 300k followers overnight and pretty much every brand deal and sponsorship they had after the sheer magnitude of the outroar against them.
Emily released a video, deadpan as ever, sitting on a padded ottoman in her walk-in wardrobe.
"Serena and I are dating, yes," Emily said, face impassive. "I understand I owe nothing to anyone, but as Brooke so kindly outed us last week, I may as well add a few other little details, and then we'll never talk about them again in this particular context, alright?
"First, I am a lesbian, and proud of it. Any homophobia or hate speech in my comments will be deleted by my team and accounts will be immediately blocked. Second, Serena and I have only been dating for one month. It is still very new, and we're still navigating it. We'd appreciate it if you could not be weird about it. And finally, no, you will not catch me in anything rainbow-coloured unless Donatella herself announces it in her next line. And even then, it would be a bloody stretch for me to concede."
And that had been that.
The next two years, Emily's content had stayed much the same, but with the occasional addition of Serena. Her followers were ecstatic (Andy being one of them) that their fearless fashion leader was gay, and her follower count grew quickly to just over 4 million on each platform. Serena often featured in her more day-in-the-life style vlogs, and seemed to be just about the only thing that could make Emily smile in a way her followers dubbed genuine.
Anyway anyway anyway, all this to say, Andy is cool, but yes, she has a favourite influencer that she's fairly committed to keeping up with.
So when Emily uploads a 49 minute video to her YouTube channel, a platform she doesn't use regularly, Andy is excited. A whole 49 minutes of fashion chat from her biggest celebrity crush? Sign Andy the hell up.
Maybe Emily did another few weeks of secretive work behind the scenes at Dior and is ready to show her followers what it culminated in? Oooh, or maybe there's been another design scandal and Emily's going to shred a specific coat apart for nearly an hour. Emily certainly looks annoyed in the thumbnail Andy had glimpsed, the title 'Let's talk' an ominous intro into what surely promises to be a brutal takedown.
Andy purposefully doesn't check social media, so as not to be spoiled. She jumps up from her sofa, grabs a beer from the fridge, and nestles back with a blanket while flicking to the YouTube app on the TV.
Emily fills the screen.
What follows is a brutal takedown, but it is absolutely in no way at all what Andy was expecting.
"Serena is cheating on me," Emily starts. "Let's talk about how I know."
Oh.
Andy's jaw drops.
One beer isn't gonna cut it.
—
Nearly one hour later, Andy is three beers down and in complete shock.
Emily talks for 49 minutes straight and offers receipt after receipt after receipt that proves Serena is indeed cheating on Emily, and has been doing for at least four months.
Incriminating screenshots. Indisputable photos. Damning Ring doorbell footage. Actual literal paper receipts for restaurants and bars and even a hotel room.
Oh, and the worst bit? Emily knows who the other woman is. She even arranged to meet her to ask questions, Emily secretly recording a voice note the entire time.
The woman denied everything, said she and Serena were just friends, but when Emily asked her to call Serena, the woman completely shut her down. Said it made her feel uncomfortable. It's so obvious, to Andy and clearly to Emily, that the reason the other woman doesn't want to call Serena is because Serena would answer the call in a way people in romantic or sexual relationships would answer.
Emily never names or shows photo evidence of the other woman, but her voice is familiar to Andy.
Emily has everything a person could need to know for sure, and she lays it all out for her viewers. Honestly, the only thing she's missing is a corkboard and red string.
When Andy opens TikTok, she sees the woman has uploaded the YouTube video in parts, all at once. Good for her, honestly; if you can't monetise a cheating scandal you're the victim of, then what can you do?
Andy heads straight to the comments.
It's a sea of furious followers and non-followers alike, people in their thousands flocking to express outrage and sympathy. Surprisingly, Emily has even liked a few of the comments, something she never does, and actually, unbelievably, replied to a scathing yet hilarious comment about Serena's first red flag being when she wore a pair of Maison Margiela Tabi boots to an event at Chanel a year and a half ago.
"God, should've seen it coming." Emily's reply read, let only three minutes ago but already liked by 9k people.
Andy scrolls, and sees just how many people are leaving their thoughts, feelings, and opinions, and she figures, hey, why not?
She clicks the little box, and thinks.
What should she say? 'You didn't deserve this' or 'your girlfriend's a dick' or 'good news, I'm also single'?
Definitely not that last one.
Although…
There's like a bajillion comments. Emily isn't gonna see them all anyway. Why not leave something a little goofy?
Andy enjoys the last sip of her beer, then types.
'If you ever feel like making Serena jealous, I'm in NYC and available'
She adds the emoji of the woman raising her arm at the end, then hits send.
Sure, she's screaming into the void a little, but you miss 100% of the shots you don't take, right? Maybe she'll get a few likes, who knows.
As she gets up to get a fourth beer a couple minutes later (it's Friday, she's allowed), she refreshes the video.
Her comment is gone.
Oh well. Maybe Emily's team hid it for being too suggestive. Fair enough.
Andy settles back down and flicks to Netflix, choosing a sitcom she's attempting to get into and then mindlessly scrolling through Emily's comments.
Only thirty seconds later, she gets a DM request.
From Emily.
Andy promptly sprays her beer across the room.
Emily has messaged her. Emily. What?!
Andy distractedly wipes beer off her legs as she opens her inbox with a shaky hand.
Emily: Was your comment serious?
With trembling fingers, Andy places her bottle on the coffee table and carefully clutches. her phone in both hands. What the hell does she say? Is Emily mad?
Fuck. Andy casts her gaze around the room for a few moments, unseeing and thinking hard. When she looks back down, she figures honesty is what got her into this, so she might as well stick with it. Here's hoping she's not blocked, ending seven years of weird influencer loyalty.
Play it cool, Andy. Play it cool.
Andy: Hi!
Cooler, idiot.
Andy: Yeah, it was. I'm so sorry if it made you uncomfortable.
She waits in agonising stillness for 24 seconds.
Emily: I've looked you up on Instagram as you have no videos here.
Emily: Your style is passable but has a lot of room for improvement.
Andy blinks down at her phone.
...What?
Andy: I'm not sure how to respond to that
Emily: You're pretty. And a reasonably successful journalist for your age.
Andy feels her cheeks flush. Emily thinks she's pretty? Oh god. Wow. Okay. Okay!
Wait. Reasonably successful? Rude. She's way ahead of her peers.
Andy: Thank you? Lose the 'reasonably' though
Emily: Confident, too. That's good.
At this point, Andy is completely lost. She's having a conversation with the famous influencer she's crushed on for seven years, and instead of swooning or squealing, she's just confused.
Andy: Why is that good?
Emily: Because it will help sell it.
Andy: Sell what??
Emily: Jesus Christ Andrea, have you forgotten what your comment said? I know I deleted it quickly but this is ridiculous.
What in the hell is happening right now? She starts to type exactly that, before realising-
Andy: How do you know my real name??
Emily: LinkedIn.
Jesus, Emily doesn't mess around.
Andy sags back against the couch, hand on her forehead as she blows out a breath and tries to steady herself. Her heart is still racing at the 'Emily Charlton is messaging me' of it all, but there's a lot of other thoughts battling to take that over right now. Namely: huh?!
But, okay. The original comment. The one about making Serena jealous.
Wait.
Andy stares at her phone, wide eyed in disbelief.
There's no way.
Andy: I said if you ever wanted to make Serena jealous, I'm available.
Andy: Okay, I'm sorry if I'm misunderstanding or whatever, but is this you taking me up on my offer?
Andy: Or is this some kind of prank? God, please don't put these screenshots in a video or something, I'd never be able to show my face again
Emily: No one would know it was you if I did.
Andy: I would know!! And I'd die
Emily: You're quite dramatic, aren't you.
Andy scoffs into her empty living room.
Andy: A famous influencer I've followed for seven years is messaging me maybe possibly about making their incredibly recent ex jealous
Andy: With me
Andy: I'm allowed to have a bit of a reaction
Emily: Fine. Does the offer still stand though? To be clear, this encounter won't be genuine. Its purpose is to send a clear point to Serena that she will not be getting the last bloody laugh.
Andy taps her nails against the side of her phone case for a grand total of two seconds before replying.
Andy: Yes
Emily: Excellent, how does next Saturday work for you?
Holy fucking shit.
Reaching for her beer and taking an overly large swallow, Andy's mind reels. The last three minutes, three minutes, have been some of the strangest in her entire frickin' life, and now, apparently, she's going somewhere with Emily Charlton to make her ex girlfriend jealous.
God. She's going somewhere with Emily Charlton.
The Emily Charlton.
Oh hell. Her palms are sweating.
"You're cool, Andy," she murmurs to herself, wiping her hands in turn on the fabric of her sofa, "you're cool. Cool cool cool cool cool-"
Andy: It works great
Emily: Good, I'll send over the details later.
Emily: And, Andrea?
Andy's hands are sweating all over again.
Andy: Yeah?
Emily: Wear something worthy. I need you to look good. Alright?
With a swallow, Andy nods to no one.
Andy: Of course
Emily: Excellent. See you then.
Andy carefully places her phone next to her beer bottle on the coffee table, picks up her favourite beaded throw cushion, and screams into it until she can't breathe.
When she lowers it, gasping and red-faced, the reality of the situation hits her.
"Shit. Oh my god. Shit."
Andy needs to go shopping.