He was right—the Google searches on my name would spike once the people have found my name. But it didn’t take 24 hours—it only took about three, because as soon as we got back to the hotel after their show, my Twitter followers had increased from 250 to 100,000. After a day, I hit a million Twitter followers.
“I finally broke 250 followers,” I told him as we sat there, watching my Twitter follower count go up. My follower count has always been stuck below 250. My mentions are another thing—some are saying that I’m the sweetest girlfriend because of what I did for the boys, and that I am lucky that I have H. Some, on the other hand, are already sending the hate, questioning why H would go for a girl like me: someone who isn’t “pretty” or “gorgeous.” To quote one fan: “She’s f*cking ugly!”
And yes, they do tag me when they say that.
“They are not good for my confidence,” I mumbled, and H shook his head, closing the laptop and then facing me. He cupped my face in his hands, his lips soft and sweet on mine. “Luv, I’m with you. I love you. And I don’t listen to them, so neither should you,” he whispered, and his hands wrapped around my waist, and we fell back on the bed, drowning in each other, Twitter followers and haters forgotten.