Influencer (Influencing Trilogy Book 2) Page 8

  I send him a text saying that I saw his show was cancelled and hope everything is okay then I finally put my phone down and force myself out of bed. I still have the small matter of fifty crunches to complete before I can start my day and I just want to get them out of the way.

  I drop to the floor and take a deep breath before I start. Just a little bit of exercise then I can enjoy myself on the yacht. I can eat what I want and drink what I want and I won’t feel guilty about it because I will know that I did my crunches before I started.

  Here goes.

  Deep breath.

  And one...

  #RomanceIsntDead

  Ryan Young

  I know Emily likes surprises. She liked it when I sent a dozen roses to the studio she was working at in London after we had first met and she definitely liked it when I had a bottle of champagne brought to us by a singing waiter at one of our first meals together. That’s how I know she’ll enjoy the surprise I have in store for her today. I’m on my way to Miami right now and if all goes to plan then I will make it onto the yacht just before she does and be waiting for her when she boards.

  My comedy show in Phoenix is cancelled tonight. I found out at 6am when my manager phoned me and told me that there was a problem with the fire permit at the theatre where I was scheduled to perform, so it would have to remain closed for the weekend. I am disappointed, of course. I hate to let down my fans but this one is out of my hands, so I have no choice but to accept it.

  I will definitely return to Phoenix as soon as I can and put on a show for my supporters out in the desert but for now I have the night off and shortly after my phone call with my manager I had the idea of taking an early flight out east to surprise Emily.

  A quick check online had shown me that there was an 8am flight out of the city to Miami and an even quicker phone call to the booking agent had told me that there were a few spare seats available on the plane. I’d hightailed it to the airport and somehow managed to get myself through security in time for take-off and now here I am, descending into South Florida and still in with a fighting chance of pulling off my latest romantic gesture to my girlfriend.

  The flight time from Phoenix is just over four hours but I know that with the time difference factored in, I should have a couple of hours to play with at my destination. That is more than enough time to get myself from the airport to the harbour and be one of the first people onto the yacht before the main group of partygoers arrives.

  I messaged Zack via PhoGlo and told him that I hoped he was okay with me coming to the party even though Emily had previously told him that I wouldn’t be able to attend. I wasn’t sure if I would get a response from him at all, never mind on the morning of his big event, but just before I boarded my flight I had received a message from him telling me that he was looking forward to partying with me.

  That had alleviated any nerves I might have had during the four hours in the air, as it’s quite a long way to go only to be told you can’t join the party. But thankfully he was good with it and had even said that he loved my comedy and that I should bring my best jokes with me to entertain his guests. I had replied and told him I was happy to do that, in exchange for a day out on his yacht sailing to The Bahamas.

  Make some jokes for the chance of a free ride to paradise? That’s a good swap in anybody’s book.

  I look out of the plane window and see that we are circling over the Florida Keys as we prepared for our final descent into Miami. The area is unbelievably scenic from whichever angle you look at it but from up here it is truly breath-taking.

  I can see the golden sands of the beaches and the impossibly blue waters of the ocean lapping at their shores. I can see the villas and the pools that are part of the multi-million-dollar holiday homes where their wealthy owners come on vacation. And of course I can see multiple yachts sailing through the waters. It’s hard to believe that I will be on one of those boats myself in just a few hours’ time.

  While I am a relatively successful comedian in America, I am still a long way off earning the kind of money that would enable me to buy a home or vessel in a place like this. I perform in theatres. The big bucks won’t come until I was delivering my shows to sold-out arenas. But with hard work, some good luck and the grace of God, I am on the path towards that, so maybe one day I will feel like I belong with the rich and famous.

  But for now, I am still just an up-and-coming comedian from Brooklyn. I spend what little money I have on rent, beer and basketball tickets and often get drunk in the company of others because small talk makes me more nervous than being on stage. People find it hard to believe that I find public speaking a lot easier than one to one interaction, but that’s always the way it has been for me.

  I’m pretty nervous about attending this party today. The other guests will all be uber-confident social media stars, so I will definitely be stepping out of my comfort zone. But I guess it’s like Emily says. People only show a version of themselves to the world and it’s often a different story in reality.

  Whatever it is, I’ll definitely feel more relaxed once I’ve got a couple of drinks inside me and can loosen up. And I really can’t wait to see my girl again.

  Emily Bennett, I’m coming for you.

  #Jetlag

  Mason Manor

  I’m in my fourth different time zone of the week. Or is it my fifth? I don’t know. All I do know is that my body clock is all over the place and I didn’t get much sleep on my latest flight, which was a seventeen-hour epic journey all the way from Japan to America. I’m definitely getting my money’s worth out of my private jet. But if I keep this ridiculous rate of travel up then it’s not my finances I need to worry about, it’s my health.

  At least the sun is shining as I step off my plane at Miami International Airport. Good weather can make even the most extreme tiredness a little more manageable. The other thing that can help with that is alcohol and while I haven’t had anything to drink yet, I most certainly will shortly when I’m on that yacht, sailing across the beautiful blue ocean towards one of my favourite parts of the world.

  I’m in town for Zack’s birthday party and I can’t wait to let my hair down and have some fun. While I spend most of my time in exotic locations, that doesn’t mean I’m not working hard while I’m there. But today promises to be a rare day off for me and while I will of course be sure to upload plenty of photos of my friends and me as the day goes on, I won’t be doing anything that resembles work.

  That means no taking calls from my agent about future promotions. No responding to emails from my accountant about my finances. And definitely no searching online for what the retail world is saying about my fashion line.

  I love my job but even an influencer needs a day off and today is my day. Tomorrow I will climb back onto the MileHighManor with my hangover and my drunken memories and deal with my life. But for now I am free as a bird to enjoy myself and not worry about all the little details that make up who I am.

  I walk across the tarmac to the limousine that is already waiting for me and will whisk me away to the harbour where Zack’s yacht is moored. A quick hello to the driver and we are on our way, him in the front at the wheel and me in the back reclining on one of the luxurious leather seats.

  My handbag is beside me but the rest of my belongings are on my plane, awaiting my return. I changed during the flight and am sporting a peach scallop-trim bikini beneath a black sarong dress. It’s slightly irritating that I won’t be getting changed all day but, then again, I’d rather that than having to compete with hundreds of other influencers for the small number of bathrooms and bedrooms on board the yacht. I’ll be fine unless the weather suddenly takes a turn for the worse and even if it does, I can just head below deck and continue the party down there.

  The plan is to spend the night in Emily’s hotel room once the party is over and we are back in Miami. I can’t wait to see her and hear all about her week but most of all I can’t wait to have a couple of cocktails and get giggly wi
th her. Bless her, she has never been able to handle her alcohol well, but she has got a little better at keeping up with me. It will be good to see her and some of my other social media colleagues, particularly in an environment that is strictly fun.

  It’s a far cry from how it used to be when Sebastian ruled over me. Back then there were strict limits on who I could see and where I could go, and there was no chance of the eight influencers who worked under him all being in the same place at the same time. But they will all be on the yacht today, which is just another reminder of how much better life is now that he is out of the picture.

  But as the limo rolled out of the airport and onto the palm-tree-lined freeway, I thought back to the mysterious text message that I had received in Greece just a few days earlier. Even though I know it was most likely to be a prank from some troll who had somehow found my number, I am still a little worried about it. Emily hadn’t seemed so concerned when I mentioned it to her but then she wasn’t the one who had been sent it. It’s easy to be blasé about a text message saying revenge is sweet when it’s gone to somebody else’s phone. It’s not so easy when the message was intended for you.

  But the more I think about it, the more I see that she is probably right. It isn’t anything to worry about because the only person who would ever think of sending such a message to me is Sebastian and he is dead. Therefore, the most likely option is that it is just somebody trying to spook me. Maybe a jealous troll or perhaps another influencer who is envious that I have more followers than them.

  We all have our haters after all. It’s not ideal when they get hold of your phone number but it’s still just something that you ignore and don’t allow to ruin your day.

  But it did ruin my day and it is still playing on my mind now, so I’ve decided that after this weekend I will buy myself a new phone and change my number. That way, whoever it was won’t be able to contact me anymore. It’s annoying that I have to do such a thing, but it is unfortunately one of the negative consequences of fame.

  Not everybody likes to see people doing well for themselves. Some people want to drag you back down to where they are because that is the only way they can feel good about themselves. But that’s just life. Besides, it could be worse. I could have a stalker. Then I really would have problems.

  Fortunately, there is no one following me or harassing me or trying to sneak onto my plane to steal my underwear, which is one less thing to worry about. And with that cheery thought in my mind, I tell myself that I will not spend another second of my day worrying about that text message. I’m in town to party and that is exactly what I will do.

  There’s no room for haters on the dancefloor.

  #TipYourWaitress

  Anna Akari

  It’s a beautiful day and death is in the air. I love my job although before I get to do it, I am going to have to pretend that I’m doing another one.

  I’m wearing a white blouse with black trousers, which is exactly the same uniform that the other hospitality staff standing around me are wearing too. We are all on board the yacht where we will be working today and half of us are stocking the bar while the other half cover the surfaces with white linen tablecloths.

  It’s definitely not as exciting as what I usually do for a living but then I only have to keep up the charade for a few more hours. Once we are in The Bahamas then I can slip off the yacht, change out of this awful uniform and get back to doing what I do best.

  Ending life.

  As I smooth out the creases on yet another tablecloth, I think back to my evening with the older gentleman from the club last night. Tying his wrists to the bed and slicing them open with the small blade that I kept in my handbag had certainly satisfied my bloodlust.

  The best thing about it all was that I hadn’t even got any of his blood on my dress as I watched him writhing around on the bed, fighting for his life before he eventually succumbed to his wounds. It was a quick, clean kill for me and just what I needed to set myself up for today.

  The guests are due to board the yacht in an hour and by then I and the rest of this miserable bunch of waiters and waitresses will be standing by to welcome them on and offer them each a glass of champagne. I will be looking out for the eight faces that matched the eight names on my hitlist and expect to see them all passing me by with a smile, blissfully unaware of what the day has in store for them.

  Then we will make the three-hour journey to the island of Bimini where the tipsy partygoers will eat and drink some more, while I sneak away to watch them all from a distance, ensuring that every single one of the eight revellers on my list all get back on board after the fireworks.

  Then as the yacht sails away into the night, I will detonate the bomb that I have hidden on board and the party will end with a bang. Another mission will be complete and I will leave Bimini millions of dollars richer, enabling me to travel the world and kill many times more for fun until my next paid job comes through.

  It’s a tough life but somebody has to do it.

  I give up on the creases on the tablecloth and walk across the spacious upper deck of the yacht that will soon be sailing out of the harbour and into the open seas. The other caterers and staff around me are still busying themselves with all manner of different tasks but I’m just happy to wander amongst them and make it seem like I’m doing something rather than actually doing anything.

  I’ve already done the tricky part, which was getting myself on board the yacht in the first place. All I had had to do was convince the guy in charge of the staff that my agency had sent me here and he hadn’t questioned it because I was dressed the same as everybody else waiting to get on.

  That’s a simple psychological trick I was taught when I was younger. If you look the same as everybody else, people will just presume you are the same as everybody else. So all I had to do was find out what uniform the staff would be wearing today and then dress accordingly. Now I look like just another temporary hospitality worker trying to earn some cash.

  Easy.

  Once on board I had taken the rucksack off my back and put it with the other workers’ belongings. The other bags likely contained a change of clothes or a few snacks for when the shift was finished but my bag contained something else entirely. Inside it was the wrapped box containing the teddy bear.

  The teddy bear that had a whole load of C4 hidden inside its stomach.

  Once the party was underway and the yacht was full of people it would be easy to take the box out of my bag and put it with the rest of the presents that had been given to the birthday boy today. If anybody questioned me as I was carrying it through the party, then I would just say that one of the guests had given it to me and told me to put it with all the others.

  But I doubt anybody would question me. I was just a nameless, faceless hospitality worker servicing the needs and desires of 200 rich and famous partygoers. The only questions I would be asked today would be from drunken guests, desperate for some more champagne.

  It would be a pleasure.

  Just like it would be a pleasure to see them all go up in flames before the day was out.

  As I pick up an empty champagne flute and clean its surface with a napkin, I look out to sea and think about the dead guy tied to the bed in his hotel room. I wonder if the maids have found him yet. I wonder if it will make the news. I wonder if it will stop other men trying to randomly pick up the hot girl sitting alone at the bar.

  Probably not. Boys will be boys. Just like killers will always kill...

  I put the champagne flute down. Enough with the boring work already.

  Let’s get this party started.

  #OMG

  Kim Decker

  This is crazy. I’m in Miami with my girl Kelsey and we are about to walk on board a yacht that belongs to my favourite celebrity, Zack Reynolds. We haven’t seen him yet, though he is expected here any minute. But there are plenty of other famous faces beginning to arrive in the harbour and I still can’t believe that Kels and I are going to be pa
rtying with them all day.

  We arrived in the harbour about twenty minutes ago, in a chauffeur-driven limousine that picked us up from the five-star hotel where we stayed last night. We drank champagne all the way here and saw the crowds of fans already gathered to catch a glimpse of the celebs as they arrived.

  They probably thought that there was somebody famous in my limo as it drove past them all. I bet they got a surprise when the doors opened and I stepped out, clutching a bottle of champagne and laughing like a hyena.

  But even then, several of the fans took photos of Kels and me and we were happy to pose for any and all pictures, pretending that we were just as famous as the other people that we were going to be sharing the yacht with.

  When I entered the competition to win two invitations to Zack’s birthday party in Miami, I had never imagined for one minute that I would actually win. I’d been sitting at work back in OKC, trying not to be caught looking at my phone, when I had noticed the competition rules posted on PhoGlo.

  Zack was offering the winner and a guest of his or her choice an all-expenses paid trip to his party, where they would spend the whole day with him and several of the biggest social media stars in the world as they sailed to The Bahamas. It sounded incredible and just the kind of thing that a girl like me would die for. But millions of girls all over the world would die for it too, so I hadn’t held out much hope of being selected.

  With such small odds, I didn’t even bother to tell the person I would have chosen as my ‘plus one’ about the contest. But every day I would open up the PhoGlo app and visit Zack’s page just to see if he had announced the winner yet. By Thursday, just two days before the party, I had almost given up checking and just presumed that somebody had already been notified about the results.