Internet Famous Read online

  @MadLib: The parental units have really done it this time. Why do they pull shit like this and LEAVE ME TO HANDLE THE FALLOUT?!? #WTF #ParentalFail

  She smiled sadly as she read the replies.

  @fandometric: @MadLib Saw your post. Anything I can do?

  @ModernDayWitch: @MadLib Family emergencies are rough. Take a moment and breathe. (Or get a voodoo doll. ;) Sending good vibes.

  @laurentabelard: @MadLib Just heading home. I’m only a text or Skype away. I can’t fix it but I can listen.

  Madi sighed and tapped in a quick reply to the group of online friends:

  @MadLib: @fandometric @ModernDayWitch @laurentabelard Thanks for the replies. Things are going to get worse before better. #DNW

  She belatedly added a second, personal reply to Lauren, wishing, as she so often did, that her online friends lived nearby. She needed someone to talk to tonight. Her chest felt like it was caught in a vise.

  @MadLib: @laurentabelard I know. I might text you later.

  She looked back up to find her father still typing. The silence of the house was as upsetting as the news. Madi had expected something—anything!

  “I wish you’d told me before, Dad,” Madi said.

  He didn’t look up or respond, though his mustache twitched.

  “If you ask me,” she added, “this whole thing’s going to be just as hard as Sarah’s first day of high school. There’s going to be fallout from this.”

  Her father lifted his gaze from the screen for a fleeting second. “Then we’ll manage.” His eyes dropped. “Just like we always have.”

  Madi’s phone buzzed and she read the notification.

  @laurentabelard: @MadLib Msg me anytime. I’m up late. (Always.) You know I’m here for you.

  Madi smiled at the sentiment. Lauren was a good friend.

  From the far room, a musical swell of intergalactic proportions began.

  “It’s starting, Madi!” Sarah called.

  Madi leaned sideways, balancing the wooden chair on two legs. “Just a sec! I’m talking to Dad.”

  His typing slowed. “Could you get your sister to keep it down? I have a bunch of articles to finish. Editor needs them by tomorrow morning.”

  “But we can’t put off telling her. She deserves to—”

  “These aren’t going to write themselves,” he interrupted. “And your mother and I are going to tell Sarah. We’re just waiting for the right moment. We don’t want to upset her unnecessarily.”

  Madi’s phone buzzed again, but she ignored it. “Mom’s leaving Saturday morning. If you ask me—”

  “Friday night, actually.”

  “Friday?!”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Then the sooner you tell Sarah, the better.”

  “It’s not that simple, and you know that,” he sighed.

  “What I know is Mom’s running off, and I’m stuck picking up the pieces.”

  “That’s hardly fair.”

  “This is exactly what happened when she took the research grant.”

  Her father lifted his hands from the keyboard and steepled his fingers. He didn’t quite make eye contact, just looked over Madi’s shoulder. She hated when he did that. “That was two years ago,” he said.

  “And Sarah still freaks out when we drive by the airport.” Madi leaned forward, trying unsuccessfully to catch his eyes. “You need to talk to Mom. She can’t keep doing this. Every time it happens, it’s harder to—”

  “Madi!” Sarah shrieked. “The movie’s on NOW!”

  Charles shrank at the sound of his daughter’s screams.

  Madi craned sideways. “Just a second, Sarah! I’m about to—”

  “But it’s ON! The movie’s starting! It’s starting right NOW! Hurry, Madi! HURRY!” Her sister’s words faded into sharp-pitched cries.

  Charles closed his laptop with a snap. For the first time, he met Madi’s gaze and her breath caught. Her father didn’t look annoyed, nor did he look angry. He looked utterly exhausted.

  “You’d better go,” he said, cringing as the screams rose to earsplitting levels. “Sarah sounds upset. I’m going to work in the office.”

  “MADI! MADI, COME ONNNN!!!”

  Her father tucked the laptop under his arm and walked away.

  *   *   *

  In the living room, a sci-fi sound track roared, the deep bass shuddering the windows. Sarah’s panicked shouting faded into excited cries as Madi appeared.

  “It’s starting! It’s starting! Hurry!”

  “Sorry I’m late,” Madi said.

  “Sit down!”

  Slumping down on the cushion at her side, Madi took a surreptitious glance at her sister. Sarah was rapt. She didn’t smile or look over, but she leaned against Madi. This was the closest personal contact Sarah ever initiated, and the little gesture was the thing that finally tipped the balance. Madi’s vision blurred with tears as the worry that had been eating away at her came rushing back. Oh my God. When Sarah finds out about Mom, she’s gonna freak! She pulled out her phone and flipped through the contacts she knew well enough to text.

  @ModernDayWitch worked night shifts. @fandometric was cool, but kept to himself. And @StarveilBrian1981 didn’t commiserate unless the discussion involved science fiction or the military.

  Her finger spun one last time and paused. @laurentabelard was an exchange student and relatively new to the MadLibs community, Madi’s blog. The only reason Madi had even noticed Lauren in the first place was that when she got active in the MadLibs fandom, she’d begun posting her comments in French.

  Curious, Madi had pasted Lauren’s first, tentative comment into Google Translate, and the answer appeared: “I love the MadLibs blog. It’s fantastic! Very interesting. Can’t wait to read more!” In the months since, Madi had watched Lauren’s name rise up the ranks of the most active MadLibbers. They’d even texted a few times.

  Madi had launched the MadLibs website two years before in hopes of sharing her love of popular culture. For Madi, her fans were a benevolent mass of unknowns, cheering her on from behind an array of usernames. The blog had succeeded far beyond her wildest dreams: More than sixty thousand readers followed her posts directly, with twice that many popping in to read on a daily basis. The MadLibs site had nearly half a million hits each month, and that number was rising! Her followers called themselves “MadLibbers,” and there were offshoot fan sites that boosted the signal to the Internet at large. According to Lauren, there was a fan collective based in Paris who painstakingly translated each of her posts.

  Madi loved this connection to the world! Her readers voted topics and Madi covered them. The rewatches she hosted included everything from video games to Old Hollywood movies. In addition to her posts, Madi tweeted a running commentary, liveblogging the experience with her global followers.

  Lauren was one of Madi’s countless fans, and though Madi had never met her, they regularly chatted online. Lauren seemed supportive. Madi popped open her contacts and thumbed in a brief message.

  u around, I?

  On-screen, an epic battle began. Madi watched from under half-closed lids. Combat scenes weren’t really her thing. She saw the use of them, but she was too good at guessing the outcome. The hero, for one, always made it through with seconds to spare. (Spartan would be no different.) A pulsing trio of dots appeared on her phone’s screen, letting her know a reply was about to arrive.

  salut, madi! feeling better?

  hardly. i rly need someone to talk to. u up for a bitchfest?

  absolument! is this about the “parental unit” tweet?

  yes and no. it’s a loooooooong story

  the subway ride will be longer. (still not used to that word. i typed metro three times before I remembered what it was)

  use metro—it sounds cool—like a steampunk novel

  nice! now, you said you had a story for me…?

  my mother’s leaving

  like forever? a divorce?

  not a divorce (though I w
onder if that’s coming) she got a fellowship

  hold on. i need my translator

  it’s like an exchange but for grown-ups—like what u r doing! only she’s not attending a school, she’s teaching

  ???

  she’s a prof at princeton. fellowship is to oxford (uk)

  ah! and you’re sad because she’s leaving?

  sort of but that’s not really the issue

  it’s not?

  it’s my sister

  sorry, i don’t follow.

  all right, long text ahead & TMI warning: i’m telling u MAJOR family drama now. u r SWORN TO SECRECY. no sharing. u promise?

  promise

  my sister has some challenges

  ?

  special needs

  i’m sorry to hear that. what’s wrong?

  she’s on the spectrum. she needs routine & if she has it, she does really well. she’s brilliant, actually. (she’ll probably end up going to harvard or something.) but whenever her schedule gets messed up, everything goes to hell … FAST.

  oh no

  exactly

  do you have anyone you can talk to? someone who can visit (what’s the american saying?) to talk to you head-to-head?

  (the saying is face-to-face). no. not really. i help a lot with Sarah, but otherwise i don’t have a lot of outside contact. i mean i do have friends and all, but they’re online mostly. i sound like a creepy shut-in. i’m not, i promise! it’s just complicated.

  you don’t sound creepy. you sound angry and sad.

  YES

  it’s normal.

  rly?

  i hid in my room every night for the first month after i left france.

  ugh! it would be horrible to be so far away from home

  it’s all right now. nyc is quite spectacular. very distracting. bright and interesting.

  OMG i never knew you were in ny! (my aunt lisa lives there.) i’m in nj. THAT’S ONLY FORTY MINUTES AWAY FROM YOU!!!

  really? that’s crazy!

  ikr? here i have these friends around the world & one is right in my backyard

  i have an idea! COME TO NY THIS FRIDAY! we’re going to a movie!!!!!!!!!!!

  Madi’s hand hovered over the screen, considering how to reply. Friday was the day her mother left. If Madi went out, she’d avoid the drama with Sarah, and would return only after her sister had settled down. She glanced guiltily at Sarah. Real life was already in a nosedive; a night out couldn’t make it any worse.

  But …

  The anxious side of Madi’s mind began a slide show of late-night TV horror stories: young women lured to an untimely death by Internet predators. She only knew Lauren online. Her user pic was an old camera, nothing else. Madi cursed herself for not finding @laurentabelard on Snapsed. What did she really know about her friend? Nothing at all. This is stupid. I hardly know her. I should just say no. But the truth was, Madi didn’t want to.

  She typed a question.

  where in ny?

  an old movie house called the metrograph (lower east side). ny is the midway point for a lot of us. (though we meet in other places, too.) the madlibbers from ny and nj and pennsylvania get together a couple times a month to do a rewatch.

  madlibbers like—my readers???

  YES!

  but … why?

  why what?

  why do you get together?

  because we are REAL friends. come along with us! it’ll be marvelous! i’ve gone to three of these events already and I’d love to meet you!

  i don’t know … that sounds a bit weird. i mean I don’t rly know any of u.

  why would it be weird? come meet your fans!

  LOL fans???

  YES! we are all your fans. you’re madlib herself! you’re internet famous, don’t you know?

  hardly

  please, madi. i’ve SEEN your follower count. you really are internet famous! think about it.

  could we talk first?

  ??? we are talking.

  no, i mean like skype or something—just so i know who u r

  oh, yes! yes, of course!

  “Madi,” Sarah whined, elbowing her. “You’re not even watching the movie!”

  The smile slid from Madi’s face and she sat up, focusing her attention on the technicolor explosions filling the television. Her phone buzzed.

  are you online? we could talk right now if you want.

  i’m doing a rewatch ATM, but how about afterward?

  great! i’ll wait for you to ping me.

  cool

  Madi dropped her phone back into her pocket. She had a movie to watch, a blog to write, and a family meltdown to avert. Maybe, just maybe, she deserved a night on the town after all of that.

  She turned to Sarah: “So, what’d I miss? Give me a recap.”

  Her sister gave her an intense half frown. Anyone who didn’t know her would assume she was annoyed, but Madi knew better. Sarah was enthralled.

  “The movie started with a scene of Tekla on the Star Freighter Hyperion—leading the rebels and giving a bit of backstory,” Sarah whispered. “Then the action cut to the rebel base on Earth. Darthku’s troops just showed up at the space station on the moon. Right now they’re getting ready to attack. But don’t worry. Captain Spartan has already alerted the ground troops.” She turned her attention back to the ongoing movie. “He’s going to stop them. Tekla knows they’re trapped, and if Spartan can contact the Hyperion, then they’ll have the reinforcements they need.…”

  Madi’s emotions rose alongside the music, the space opera drawing her into an epic battle of flashing explosions and decadent visuals. She let out a satisfied sigh, her anxiety receding into a dull hum. This was why she loved rewatches. They were an escape—her escape!—and everything seemed easier to deal with once she was immersed. The weight of worries that had filled the week lifted. She’d meet Lauren tonight, albeit via Skype, and if all went well, she’d be going into New York to meet the rest of the MadLibbers on Friday.

  *   *   *

  It was past ten when the movie ended and Madi retreated to her bedroom. She paused in front of her mirror, smoothing her hair and straightening her latest TeeFury shirt, an homage to The X-Files: I Want to Believe. She peered at herself. While her sister Sarah’s expression could be described as “intense,” Madi’s was pure mischief. Almond-shaped eyes sparkled in an elfin face framed by black hair. Smiling or scowling, happy or sad, her dimpled cheeks and impish grin made Madi look like she was about to tell a joke. She stuck out her tongue and her reflection did the same. Much as she might wish it otherwise, she’d always be “cute” rather than a classic beauty. It bugged her.

  With a sigh, she opened the video-chat program and typed in Lauren’s e-mail address. A thrill of excitement danced the length of her spine. She always got nerves when meeting people for the first time and preferred the neutral distance of online interactions to face-to-face meetings. Skype hovered in the no-man’s-land between the two approaches.

  “Here goes nothing.”

  Madi clicked CONNECT.

  There was the requisite dance of image and sound, bouncing merrily from Madi’s laptop in Millburn to a satellite, and from there back down to Lauren’s computer in New York. The video flickered and Madi leaned into the screen.

  A man appeared.

  “Whoa, Nellie!”

  Her hand was halfway to the laptop’s touch pad, intending to hang up the video-chat connection, when she froze. Her mouth fell open. She had seen good-looking guys before—every movie she ever watched was full of them!—but someone with features so chiseled they could have been borrowed from a movie poster was another thing entirely. The stranger’s clothes were an eclectic mix of pop culture and high fashion—a retro comic book tee mixed with jeans and a faded leather jacket that sported a TARDIS pin on its collar. The look separated him from every boy Madi knew.

  “Oh … wow!” The words were out before she could think better of them.

  He was a gorgeously realisti
c anime character come to life … and that face. OMG that face! He caught her eyes on-screen and she stopped breathing.

  “Hello?”

  “I—you—” Madi struggled to make sounds come out of her mouth, but with no air in her lungs it was a useless proposition. Lauren wasn’t home alone, she realized. And her boyfriend was damned hot!

  Madi took a wheezing breath. “Jesus, take the wheel.”

  “Pardonnez-moi?”

  She blinked. “I, um—Did you just talk to me in French?”

  “Bien sûr,” he said, then shook his head. “Yes, yes. Bad habit.”

  He grinned, and the need to sigh hit Madi right in the center of her chest. (She didn’t. Swooning was for romantics, not bloggers.)

  “Y-you must be Lauren’s boyfriend,” she said. Her hot French boyfriend! “Is she around?”

  “Sorry, who? I thought you were Madi.” The French accent cloaked his words like expensive cologne. Subtle but distinct. Madi’s uncertainty grew. Hadn’t Lauren said she was an exchange student when they’d texted the other day? Madi looked at the e-mail address. Every letter was correct.

  “I—yeah, I am. But I thought…”

  This guy looked more like a college student than high school senior, but there were too many other clues to ignore. Madi’s stomach twisted. Oh God—there’s no way this is happening.

  “You’re Madi,” he repeated. “From the MadLibs blog, right?”

  “I am,” she said, then forced a smile. “I know this sounds weird, but how do you pronounce your name?”

  “It’s Laurent.” The way he said his name tipped her off: Luh-Ron. It rhymed with LeBron—the accent on the second part of the name—clearly masculine. Laurent Abelard, not Lauren Tabelard! she realized. Madi fought the urge to face-palm.

  “I didn’t realize it was you,” she said. “I thought you were a girl.”

  “I didn’t, either. I thought you were…” He laughed. “I don’t know. Someone else. I expected someone … different.”

  “Different?”

  “I don’t know. You just look like—like—”

  Madi’s wanton perusal came to a screeching halt. What. The. HELL.

  “Like what?” she snapped.

  “Like a blogger.”