Poemsia

by Lang Leav

  “Keep us posted, OK?” I hung up.

  Meanwhile, Jess was already on the phone to Mei Lyn.

  “Can’t we sue? Defamation? Oh, OK. It sounds complicated . . . Mum, can you look into it? Thanks, love you, too. Bye.” Jess turned to me. “Mum’s going to see what she can do, but she said not to get our hopes up. The Internet is one big gray area.”

  My heart sank. “But it’s an outright lie! Doesn’t Penelope have a shred of decency?”

  “Guess not,” Jess murmured, thumbing angrily on her phone. Then her expression froze.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly.

  “Jess, come on.” I grabbed at her phone and saw she was on Twitter.

  “Don’t,” she said to me.

  I logged onto my Twitter and immediately regretted it. My mentions were insane.

  Fake ass bitch

  saw her tonight at the Sojourn, can’t believe she’s a FAKE

  Verity wolf how could you? I was a fan. Unfollowing

  Can I get a refund for the book I bought tonight? @bnbuzz

  I’m not mad at you verity, just disappointed.

  Petition to boycott her books. Actually no burn them!!!

  Writers shouldn’t steal from other writers

  Busted! Now you’re gonna get what you deserve stupid whore

  Thank fuck someone’s called her out. Hate her stupid work it’s juvenile AF

  Kill yourself ho

  The internet hating on verity wolf is giving me life!

  Who the fuck is Verity wolf and why is she trending?

  Is this what they’re calling poetry nowadays? SMH

  I HATED her dumbass book. It was the worst thing I’ve ever read FFS

  Ooops! Looks like your career’s over bitch

  Every single comment hit like a hammer squarely in my stomach, but I couldn’t tear myself away.

  “Vare, give me your phone. You have to ignore what they’re saying.”

  I chewed at my fingernails. “Jess, someone’s tagged Karla Swann in the article!”

  I felt like everything was disintegrating around me. Karla almost immediately posted her response.

  KarlaSwann @karlaswann I didn’t know Verity Wolf had plagiarized the poem I shared. I am so sorry to have misled my fans. I believe passionately in supporting artists and giving credit where due. In the future, I will check my sources more carefully before I post.

  Jess gave me a pained look, and my heart dropped.

  Karla’s just confirmed it . . . Verity is a plagiarist!

  queen has spoken

  Haha, did I just witness a murder?

  “Mena,” I said suddenly. “She knows I didn’t plagiarize that poem. She has millions of followers. She can set the record straight.”

  “Good idea! She even mentioned Poemsia at your show tonight.”

  I dialed Mena’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. Then a tweet appeared that sent chills down my spine.

  MenaRhodes @menarhodes Tonight, I chaired a show for Verity Wolf. She’s such a lovely person, which is why I am shocked at the allegations of plagiarism. I want to make it clear that it is something I would never condone.

  Then the responses came thick and fast.

  Mena just unfollowed Verity . . . lol, she’s finished

  You’re an angel @menarhodes Sorry you had to waste your time with that piece of trash

  Verity is officially canceled boys and girls

  Verity is dead yay

  “I can’t believe she would just throw you under the bus like that,” Jess cried.

  I was shaking. “Everyone hates me.”

  “Well, why don’t we tell our side of the story?”

  “OK,” I said, and my fingers worked furiously. “What do you think?”

  Jess looked at what I had typed and nodded. I posted it.

  VerityWolf @veritywolf Hi everyone. Just letting you know this is a case of misattribution, not plagiarism. I clearly tagged the post as #notmine and mentioned Poemsia in this BuzzFeed interview.

  I linked my tweet to Sierra’s BuzzFeed article. Then I held my breath. The first response made my stomach turn.

  Well you still got famous from someone else’s work, so fuck you anyway

  is it just me or does that post look edited

  haha what a shady bitch

  A pornographic picture appeared where my face was photoshopped onto someone else’s body.

  Misattribute this, bitch!

  “Yuck!” I said, disgusted.

  Don’t need an article to know ur a ho

  Then came a surprise tweet from Sierra.

  SierraRadićh @ilovebubblewrap I interviewed Verity months ago and she CLEARLY said it WASN’T her poem. Get your facts straight people!

  To my dismay, she was immediately attacked for jumping to my defense.

  FAKE NEWS

  How much did Verity pay you to say that?

  SierraRadićh @ilovebubblewrap Wtf, I wrote that article MONTHS ago?

  Whatevs, you could have just posted it now.

  What the world needs, another journalist who sympathizes with plagiarists

  Others joined Sierra, and my heart leapt with hope.

  SHUT UP everyone I STAN Verity Wolf to the day I DIE. Her poems are LIFE.

  Remember when journalists actually checked their sources?

  Who the fuck wrote this travesty of an article? Do your research, you amateur!!!

  Someone replied to the comment with a picture of Penelope.

  This is the hate reader choking on her DUMB BITCH JUICE bc she’s so jelous of Verity Wolf

  Verity is the only decent pop poet, rest are trash. Mena included! Sorry not sorry.

  Um guys? I was at Verity’s show tonight and Mena literally talked about Poemsia????

  I gave Jess a hopeful look. “Maybe they’re starting to see the truth?”

  Uh, Verity stop making fake accounts and talking to yourself

  “Then again, maybe not,” I muttered.

  I would take Penelope’s poetry over that trash writer Verity ANY DAY

  Holy shit, Penelope’s a babe

  OMG you guys are blind, Penelope’s shady as fuck!! She’s just jealous of verity! Like it’s so ob???

  “The truth is right in front of them! Why can’t they see it?” I stammered.

  Jess shook her head. “I guess this is what Penelope was counting on.”

  “I wish there was a way we could get her to publicly admit I didn’t plagiarize that poem.”

  “I think hell would freeze over before that happens.”

  I went back to my Twitter and sighed, realizing how pointless it was to defend myself.

  Everyone chill for a second and tell me what’s going on what did I miss

  Verity Wolf got canceled

  wth why

  she’s a plagiarist

  OMG what a skank hope she gets what she deserves

  “I give up,” I said under my breath. With that, I switched off my phone and dropped it onto the bed. We both sat there feeling like the whole world had gone deathly silent.

  Seventeen

  “We finally made it, huh?” I grinned at Jess.

  It was our last day in New York, and we were sitting in a booth at Egg & Yolk, an old-style diner with a retro feel—quaint and light with a jukebox playing fifties rockabilly. Across the table sat Aunty Hoy, tucking a paper serviette into Pei Pei’s collar.

  “Last time I saw you, Verity, you were this tall!” She pinched her thumb and forefinger together.

  Pei Pei’s mouth fell open. “Wewity was that wittle?”

  We burst into laughter.

  Our breakfast came soon after, and Aunty Hoy took a sip of her coffee and declared, “Hands down the best co
ffee I’ve ever had in New York.”

  “Mmmm . . . best coffee in the world!” I said, after sampling my mocha.

  Jess winked at me. “Other than Last Chance, of course.”

  I spooned some scrambled eggs into my mouth and moaned. “These eggs are to die for.”

  “Try this!” Aunty Hoy tore her cinnamon toast and popped a piece on my plate.

  The whipped butter was smooth and silky on my tongue, and the toast was heaven. “Oh my God!”

  Between mouthfuls of her bagel, Jess said, “Everything is so worthy of the five carrots awarded by Jonesy.”

  We took turns sampling each other’s meals, but when Jess tried to get a forkful of Pei Pei’s butterscotch pancakes, the chubby toddler threw her head back and howled.

  Aunty Hoy and I exchanged a knowing look.

  “Well, we know who she takes after!” I grinned, nudging Jess with my elbow.

  We all chatted and laughed through our meal, until we were down to crumbs.

  “Hate to leave you girls, but this little one has a playdate to get to,” said Aunty Hoy. We hugged and said our goodbyes, promising we’d come back again soon. It seemed a little less sunny when they left, and I wished I had spent less time with Mena and more with Jess’s family. Jess must have been thinking the same thing because a sad look crossed her face. I reached over and gave her a hug. “Want to get another cup of coffee?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  We opened Jonesy’s notebook and added our own little notes and scribbles. Jess drew in tiny cute sketches in the corners.

  “Hasn’t this trip turned out to be a mess?” I sighed.

  Sash had managed to track down Penelope, but when he asked her to take down the article, she flat-out refused. Teddy and Tom had also tried their best to convince her, but she wouldn’t budge.

  I wrote to Sierra to thank her for sticking up for me, and we wrote back and forth about the madness of social media and how horribly corrupt it could be. Talking about it didn’t do much to dissolve the knot of frustration in my chest, so I decided to take a hiatus from the digital world. It worked, and now I felt myself slowly coming back to the real one.

  All of a sudden, my phone buzzed from an unknown number.

  “Verity? It’s Kerry here. Have you heard the good news?”

  “Good news?” I asked cautiously.

  “Your book’s just hit the New York Times best-seller list! It’s racing up the charts.”

  “What? But how could that be?”

  My mind shot back to what Mena had said—hate is bad for the ego, good for book sales.

  “What was that about?” Jess asked when I hung up.

  Deadpan, I delivered the news to her. “That was Kerry. She wanted me to know my book’s now officially a New York Times best seller.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Are you serious? Don’t you have to sell a ton of books to get on that?”

  “I guess I did.”

  “Vare . . .” she breathed.

  “Jess,” I echoed.

  “OK, this is not the place,” she squeaked.

  “The New York Times,” I mouthed at her.

  Her hand flew to her mouth, and my hand clamped tightly over mine, our eyes laughing at each other.

  It took every ounce of self-control to remain perfectly quiet, to sit perfectly still, when on the inside we were squealing at the top of our lungs.

  Eighteen

  My heart leapt with joy at the arrival terminal when I spotted Pop with Sash in tow. I wondered how I had considered moving to New York even for a second. I dropped my bags and ran over, throwing my arms around Pop’s neck.

  He smiled down at me. “I’ve missed you, little one.”

  “I’ve missed you too!”

  I turned to Sash, who was looking at me with a lopsided grin. All of a sudden, I felt kind of shy. “Hey,” I said, punching him lightly on the arm, even though I was ready to throw myself at him. I felt self-conscious in public, especially with Pop there.

  “What’s up, Wolf?” he said, with feigned nonchalance.

  It was ridiculous how happy I was to see them both. It felt as if I’d been away for an eternity, and I was so glad to be back.

  “You will never guess what I got you, Pop!” I was bursting with excitement.

  “I think all your Christmases have come at once.” Jess had now caught up with me.

  Pop looked from me to Jess. “What is it, girls?”

  I reached into my knapsack and pulled out a signed copy of Grape, passing it to Pop.

  He held it like it was something delicate, turning it over in his hands. Slowly, he turned to the autographed page, and his bottom lip trembled. “You got it signed?” he said in wonder. “But how?”

  I winked. “I had to pull a few strings.”

  “Oh, Verity, this is so special . . .” His voice was heavy with emotion.

  “Verity actually met Sal!” Jess blurted. “And you know what he said about Verity’s work? He said she belongs to the old world of poetry.”

  “Whoa,” said Sash, impressed.

  Jess nodded. “It’s like a Jedi Master telling someone they have the Force.”

  I looked up at Pop, and his face was shining with such pride and happiness that it filled my heart right up. Then, his expression suddenly changed, his face twisting into a pained grimace. His hand rose up to clutch at his chest, and his breathing became ragged.

  “Pop!” I cried, panicked.

  “Oh my God,” gasped Jess.

  When Sash grabbed him around the waist, he was on the verge of collapse.

  I heard my own voice roar with a fierce urgency. “Somebody! Help!”

  Nineteen

  I sat in the hospital waiting room, my mind racing with every possibility. There were a handful of strangers around me, people just like me, sitting on hard plastic chairs and trying not to think the worst thoughts. Faces stone-cold and lined with worry under the harsh fluorescent lights.

  Every time I heard footsteps, my head snapped up, hoping it was someone with news about Pop. The only thing worse than saying goodbye, I thought, is not getting the chance to say it. I couldn’t help my mind drifting back to the year before, when I saw Nan from my window, collapsed in her garden. We had only just been laughing at a YouTube clip, minutes before. It still hurt me to recall the terror in Pop’s eyes when I had raced into his office. When everything changed for us in an instant.

  That day, we lost Nan, but we also each lost a huge part of ourselves. It took such a long time before we could feel anything close to normal. And now here I was, facing the possibility of going through it all over again. The thought was too much to bear.

  I bit my lip and blinked back tears, desperate to believe that my last memory of Pop wouldn’t be the sight of him strapped into a gurney as paramedics attached him to tubes and wires. Or the journey here in the screaming ambulance, his clammy hand in mine as he lay so still that I wanted to beat his chest, yell at him to wake up.

  “Verity Wolf?” I stood up as a doctor came striding toward me. He had a thick beard and kind eyes, stethoscope hanging slightly crooked around his neck against his light blue scrubs. “I’m Ahmed, the doctor treating your grandfather.”

  “Is he OK?”

  Dr. Ahmed nodded. “He’s OK.”

  My entire body crumpled with relief.

  “What happened?”

  “He had a mild heart attack, Verity. I looked at his history, and apparently, he’s been warned this could happen.”

  “I know. Pop’s had a bad run. Lost the love of his life not long ago. On top of that, his business has been failing. All this had to be weighing on him.”

  Dr. Ahmed nodded. “I fully understand. But now he does need to take it easy. He was lucky this time, but he might not be the next.”

  A
cold chill went down my spine.

  “We’ll need to keep him a few days, just to be on the safe side. Then I would suggest you take him to see a specialist. I’ll put together a list of names for you. Do you have insurance?”

  I shook my head no, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

  He gave me a sympathetic look. “No need to worry; the public system is more than adequate.”

  “Verity!”

  Jess and Sash arrived and were rushing toward us.

  “Any news?” Jess asked, out of breath, looking from me to Dr. Ahmed and back again.

  I nodded, barely able to hold back tears. “He’s going to be OK.”

  Her face dissolved in front of me. “Oh, thank God.”

  “Is he awake?” I asked the doctor.

  “I’ll walk you to his room.”

  I entered Pop’s room and sat on his bed. All my life, I’d seen him as Goliath, my infallible protector, the person who loved me more than anyone else. Now he looked so woefully frail. It broke my heart to see him like that. His eyes opened just a fraction, and his voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Tell me something good, Verity.”

  I said the first thing that came to mind. “My book made the New York Times best seller list, Pop.”

  The smile that broke out on his face was so radiant it lifted the heaviness in my chest. I buried my head on his shoulder and felt his hand against my head. Tears swam, blurring everything.

  “That’s my girl.”

  Twenty

  “How are you holding up, Verity?” asked Jonesy. I was waiting for Jess at Last Chance when he slid into the empty seat opposite me. “How’s Pop?”

  “He’s doing OK. He says hi and thanks for the macarons.”

  A few days had passed since Pop’s collapse, and now I had him at home ensconced in bed. He was a huge part of our community, and his hospital room had been flooded with flowers, gift baskets, and cards—so many that Jess had handed them around to other patients on the floor.