by Daniel Hurst
It’s been two months since Sebastian Sawyer died and although I still don’t know exactly what happened to him that day in Manchester when the paramedics removed him from his hotel room in a body bag, I do know one thing.
He was murdered and his killer is still out there somewhere.
Losing Sebastian was bad for me on a number of different levels. Professionally, because the system he and I had going was benefitting us both and making us into very rich and powerful men. Personally, because although we were very different, I had come to see him as a friend, and in my line of work, there aren’t many people that I can call that. But it was also bad for me because Sebastian had made me promise to avenge his death should anything ever happen to him and, because I am a man of my word, I have been left with no choice but to see our little agreement through.
It was easy to agree to when he was alive. But now he is dead, and suddenly it’s not so easy. Now, if I am going to stick to my word, and I will because my word is all I have, then I have to find out who killed him and end their life too.
Not many people knew who Sebastian was but out of those who did, it’s fair to say that most of them would have wished him dead at one point or another. The way he did business was special to say the least. He was always fair with me, but it was a different story with the rest of his employees. Whilst I had enjoyed a relative freedom as I worked with him, I know that not everybody else in his company shared the same perks. He kept people under close control and he had them killed if they stepped out of line.
It was effective, but it was hardly going to win him any ‘Boss of the Year’ awards. Which means that when I found out he had died, courtesy of an automated email that had been timed to be sent if he hadn’t made contact with me after a certain time, then I knew I had my work cut out.
Sebastian had always told me that if he were to die, then it was most likely to be by the hand of one of his social media influencers. Unlike the team of computer hackers that he employed, who loved to spend all their days locked in a windowless room, the influencers didn’t care for restrictions and rules. They couldn’t handle the control that Sebastian had over them and when you consider the fact that they were all extremely wealthy and able to travel around the world on a daily basis, they clearly posed the biggest threat to Sebastian if they were to revolt.
And so that is how it had turned out.
I’m not sure which influencer killed him, but it doesn’t matter. Sebastian’s instructions were clear.
I have to get rid of them all.
I have the list of names and there are eight in total.
Mason Manor.
Rochelle Turner.
Stella Robinson.
Harriet Harper.
Trey Squire.
Nikkie Morris.
Molly Chan.
Emily Bennett.
Eight of the biggest social media influencers in the world.
Eight more people who will be in body bags by the end of the week.
When I first saw the list, I had puzzled over how on earth I was supposed to have eight of the most recognisable people on the planet killed, when none of them ever seemed to be in the same place at the same time.
I needed discretion.
I needed efficiency.
I needed a professional assassin.
I had initially thought about looking for one in my home country but had decided against it in the end. While many people know Russia as the largest country in the world, for me and the illegal circles in which I operate, it is infinitely smaller. If I were to put out a request for a hit on eight people, then other people in my homeland would hear about it and start looking in to it.
The last thing I wanted was to have anybody discover what Sebastian and I had been doing for so many years and so I thought it best to find my killer outside my own borders.
My search for the best assassin to carry out the task had pointed me towards Asia, and it hadn’t taken long for one name to keep cropping up.
Anna Akari.
Apparently, she was the best in the business and so she had seemed like the kind of person I could trust to take out eight different targets in eight different locations, whilst ensuring that none of it ended up on some goddamn PhoGlo account somewhere.
I had made contact with her and told her my requirements, and we had agreed on a price. It was a little high for my liking, but it was the cost of keeping my word to Sebastian and it was a drop in the ocean compared to the money I earnt working for him when he was alive.
But before any money exchanged hands, I had wanted to know how she was going to do it and when. With such a big list and the international nature of the job, I hadn’t expected to hear back from her for some time. But she had surprised me by not only making contact sooner than anticipated but also with the details of the plan that she had in mind.
Instead of killing the eight influencers one at a time she was promising to take them all out in one hit, in the same place, on the same night. She had learnt that all of the names on my list were also on the guest list for a birthday party this coming weekend. They were due to be on board the same yacht as it sailed from Miami to The Bahamas and she was only too happy to tell me that it would not be making its return journey in one piece.
She planned to detonate a device on the yacht during the event, which would be enough to wipe out the entire influencing arm of Sebastian’s former business and thus anybody who was involved in his death.
It sounded risky. It sounded ambitious. And most of all, it sounded like there would be a lot of collateral damage.
In other words, it sounded like something Sebastian would have approved of.
I agreed to the plan and while I didn’t need to know the ins and outs of it, I had told Anna that I would need confirmation that all eight individuals were on board at the time of the explosion. That meant that she would need to be near the yacht when the device went off.
I had no idea how she planned to do that, but I wasn’t paying her millions of rubles for nothing.
Now the plan is in motion and it is only six days until Sebastian’s final wishes are met and I keep my word to him. But I’m not just doing this out of the goodness of my heart to a former friend and colleague. Like any good professional, I also have my business reasons for ordering the murders of eight of the biggest influencers on one of the biggest social media platforms in the world.
With them out of the way, there will be a gap in the market that needs to be filled. Several people would be more than happy to reclaim the thrones that will been vacated by the likes of Mason Manor and her friends. And while there are plenty of ways of doing that organically, by growing your account and biding your time, I learnt from Sebastian that there are quicker and much more effective ways of profiting from the influencing culture.
Once this operation is complete and the yacht holding all eight influencers is at the bottom of the sea, I plan to begin my own company, just like the one Sebastian ran successfully for so many years until his untimely demise.
I will use a team of computer hackers to infiltrate PhoGlo’s systems and give me an unfair advantage. I will cherry pick a new team of influencers, who I will control to promote and advertise products and agendas that are to my benefit. And most of all, I will ensure that none of them will turn on me in the way that his influencers had turned on Sebastian.
Because if Anna is as good as she says she is and is able to take care of the first task I have given her, then I will keep her on my payroll for the future. Then, if I were ever to suspect that any of my influencers were getting out of line, I could use her to put an end to the matter quickly, without any negative impact for me or my bottom line. I have no doubt she will be a lot more effective than whoever it was Sebastian had hired to do his killing.
The world is changing and new opportunities are arriving every day. I have an opportunity now, so I am not going to let it slip through my fingers.
I will make myself the wealthiest man in Russia.
/>
I will make myself the President of Russia.
And best of all, I will make the whole world fear and respect the country of Russia, just as it had once before.
But first things, first.
Eight influencers have to die.
#5DaysBeforeTheParty
#FirstClassProblems
Emily Bennett
I’ve spent so much time imagining what it would be like to fly first class. I’ve fantasised about spending the flight in a spacious seat instead of the cramped one you get in economy. I’ve daydreamed about having an unlimited supply of champagne brought to me by smiling members of the cabin crew, none of whom would inform me that they had run out of certain food items or that the credit card machine wasn’t working. And I’ve even thought about how nice it would be to be able to swan onto the plane at the last moment before it departed whilst being the first one to get off at the other end.
The luxury. The convenience. The prestige.
Now I am experiencing it for real, reclining in my frankly enormous chair, as the plane I am on hurtles through the sky, 37,000ft above the Atlantic Ocean. There have been many moments over the course of this year that have made me question whether I have officially ‘made it.’ But today, as I sip my third glass of bubbles and stretch my legs out in front of me as far as they will go, I can now safely say that I have.
Emily Bennett.
Full-time influencer.
First-class flyer.
But like most things that you fantasise about, the reality is somewhat different. While I’ve imagined myself enjoying this moment if it ever came, getting drunk and giggly without a care in the world, now it’s here I have different emotions swirling through me.
Yes, I am a little drunk and yes, I have been a little bit giggly at the episodes of Friends I’ve been watching since we took off, but I am also feeling a little blue. Because when I had imagined myself jet-setting around the world in first class, I hadn’t known that my heart would be aching for the man who wasn’t beside me.
I said goodbye to Ryan last night, just before he got into the taxi that would take him to the airport for his flight to LAX. He was excited to head back out on tour and get back to doing what he did best, which was entertain large crowds of people and make them laugh. And I was excited for him too, knowing how happy his work made him and how ambitious he was to grow his career even more. But that hadn’t stopped me feeling a little lonely when I had gone back to his apartment in Brooklyn and looked at the bed where I would be spending the night alone.
Ryan and I have enjoyed a whirlwind romance and have gone from meeting, to dating, to living together, in just a few short weeks. It has been all highs so far and I haven’t stopped smiling since I met him. Except now. Because I’m in a tin can, flying through the sky in the opposite direction to him and getting further away by the second.
We are both living our dreams, but our lifestyles aren’t exactly compatible. Neither of us tend to spend more than one night in the same place and this weekend was an anomaly in our otherwise jam-packed schedules. While we were busy travelling and working, I thought I could handle only seeing him when our calendars allowed but after the past couple of days, I realise that nothing is as fun as when it is just the two of us relaxing in his apartment, with our phones on silent and nobody watching our every move or waiting to like, comment and discuss everything we do.
I still have much to accomplish in my influencing career and I know Ryan won’t stop until he is selling out shows at Madison Square Garden, so it’s not as if things are going to change any time soon. We will just have to make the best of it and enjoy the times we have together when they come. At least this time it’s only a week or so until I will see him again.
I catch the attention of the air stewardess who has been serving me so delightfully during the flight so far and she instantly knows what I want, rushing away to fetch a new bottle of champagne. I still have six hours to go until I touch down in Berlin and having spent most of the past few days sleeping, snacking and doing other fun things that begin with ‘s’, I am aware that I really should get some work done before we land.
There is Wi-Fi on board my flight, which will allow me to catch up on the latest events online, reply to some of my followers’ comments and, of course, post a few updates of my own.
As I receive my next glass of champagne, I thank the stewardess and instantly begin to think about how I can use my tall flute of bubbles to make a perfect picture for my PhoGlo page. Just because I’m tipsy it doesn’t mean that I can’t work. If anything, it should help me be more creative. While my last few posts have been all about Ryan and me, it’s time to switch it up again and get it back on brand.
I just need an idea...
I hold my champagne glass up with one hand and my mobile phone in the other but that doesn’t look original. So I put the glass on the table beside me and see how that looks. It’s okay but again, nothing special. I look around the cabin for other ideas and although I see the three other people who are also in first class with me today, I don’t get any
inspiration there either.
I was kind of hoping that I would step onto the plane today and see that I would be flying with an A-List celebrity or two, but alas, no such luck. The other three people in the exclusive cabin with me are all fairly non-descript business types, all dressed formally and all typing away furiously on their laptops. Not movie stars. Not musicians. Not influencers.
Not good for a PhoGlo photo.
I sit back in my leather seat and wait for inspiration to strike. It’s times like this when I think how easy it was when I was being told what to post. Not that I would ever want to go back to the days when Sebastian used to message me with my instructions, but there’s no denying that it did make certain questions, like what to share with my followers, a little easier.
Back then, no matter what he made me post, it was always greeted with an avalanche of likes, comments and new followers, and while I know now that it was mainly down to the computer hackers he was paying to trick PhoGlo’s systems, it was certainly a nice dopamine hit when I saw the reaction I would get each time.
Nowadays it is all down to me to get audience engagement online, and while I prefer this option because it means that I am no longer fearing for my mum’s life or mine, it’s not so easy when it comes time to deciding what to post.
With millions of followers on my account I am acutely aware of my responsibility to each and every one of them. Sure, some of them just follow me randomly or because they fancy me, but I know that most of them follow me because they find me relatable, endearing and honest. I owe it to them to be myself at all times and not just fake it like so many other accounts online.
I choose which products and businesses I work with closely and favour the ones that fit in with my audience’s expectations rather than those that simply offer me the most money. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely well paid, but I also know that it doesn’t matter how much money I make if I’m being fake or my audience isn’t engaged with my content.
Recently they have been super engaged, because I’ve been sharing my relationship with Ryan, but now I’m back to being alone for the next week or so, I need to ensure that I maintain that same standard of openness and reality.
So think Emily, think...
I sit forward again in preparation for another practice run with my phone’s camera but as I do, I knock the table beside me and my champagne glass topples over, smashing on the surface and causing all the boring business suits around me to look up from their screens and frown.
I feel my face blushing red and see the stewardess rushing towards me with a cloth but then I suddenly see it.
The post I will share with my 14.6 million followers.
I hold up my phone and take a photo of the broken champagne flute and the wet patch of alcohol all around it before typing out my caption.
First Class problems.
#NYtoBerlin #Champagne #Clumsy
I press send and modern technology delivers my simple little message from my phone in the sky all around the world to the phones of the millions of people who wish they could be me.
Silly, clumsy, lovestruck little me.
#LaunchDay
Mason Manor
I’m in the city of love but I only have business on my mind. Today is the day I launch my new fashion line ManorGirl and I couldn’t be more excited. I’ve dreamt about this moment since I was a young child trying on my mother’s clothes and dressing up my Barbie doll and pretending it was me. Social media influencing is my job, but my passion is fashion and today I get to see another of my dreams come true. I am excited. I am nervous. And I am stressed.
Very, very stressed.
The launch party is due to begin in five minutes’ time and a large audience of critics, journalists and peers are waiting on the other side of the red velvet curtain for my models to walk out onto the catwalk and display my first collection. But there’s a problem. One of the models hasn’t turned up yet. There’s no one answering the phone at her agency and none of the other girls here have heard from her.
We are one model down and if she doesn’t get here in a minute then I’m going to have to go out there and model my dresses for her. The thought of that makes me feel sick. I might spend all day sharing my life with millions of people on PhoGlo but that doesn’t mean I have the confidence to walk out in front of a room of 300 people, especially when they are all here to judge and critique me and my clothes. It’s one thing appearing bold from behind a phone screen. It’s another thing doing it in person.
I see the other five models already wearing their first outfits and they look great. I feel good about the quality of the clothes I am launching today. They are elegant yet affordable, prestigious yet relatable. I will launch ManorGirl initially as an online brand but in the future I envision a ManorGirl shop on the high street, probably starting in London before branching out to the rest of the UK. Then who knows? Maybe even the world.
