The man’s finger poised over the iPad’s delete button.
Delete or not? After several years on Twitter, he still wasn’t sure what to do. The Infamous Picture had kicked off his rise on the platform and to his surprise, the subscriber number had increased despite everything. He’d been careful ever since, but that seemed to be the problem. Was he too careful or not careful enough?
His hand dropped to the leather seat. He gazed out at the German countryside as the limo sped to Schönefeld Airport. For the past few days, he and his colleagues from his latest project had celebrated his birthday in style. After his fandom had sent so many birthday greetings, he thought they might appreciate a peek into his life. So he’d shared some harmless pictures with them.
Harmless. Right, he thought.
He’d enjoyed the days before social media when he’d sent long missives through a designated website and that was that. Nobody interfered. It was just me and the fans, he thought. Now it’s me and fans and the world.
He admired a lovely selfie he’d snapped of himself and a few colleagues. The production PR said it had not authorized any release of cast and crew photos.
Damn it.
If he were honest, he really missed the silence for days and weeks after clicking “send.” At least until he received mail in reply or curiosity killed him and he consulted the forums. Now, the responses came fast and he just couldn’t not look.
“Nice pic!” Hmm, yes it is.
“Is that your new girlfriend?” Heh, not if her husband has anything to say about it.
“Were you drunk?” Wait – what? I was sober as a judge.
Sheesh! Click. Delete.
Next, a picture of an abstract sculpture depicting a man, he was told – a cast gift. The sculptor alerted him that the painting behind the piece was not available for public viewing. Oops!
“Nice pic!” Of course.
“Love the painting!” I know, right?
“Was the sculptor drunk?” What? Hmmm. No clue.
Click. Delete.
Oh. A selfie of himself on set. Could the production PR tell? Best to be safe.
“Nice pic!” Right.
“Thanks for sharing!” You’re welcome!
“You don’t have to photoshop your selfies. We love your wrinkles!” What??? Like I would be vain enough to rub out my – wait, the lines aren’t that bad, are they?”
Shit. Click. Delete.
There. Four tweets left for the week. That should take care of everything.
Oh wait. The funny one is still here. He perused the entry containing a selfie with plant leaves sticking out of his ears and mouth followed by a quotation. He wasn’t sure if everybody got the reference. He wasn’t sure if he got the reference.
“Nice pic!” Who is this person?
“Goofy dude!” Yes, yes it is.
“Were you drunk?” Am I getting some sort of reputation? Well yes, yes I was.
Click. Delete.
Three entries left. He smirked at the selfie of himself trying to pinch a liquor cart.
“Nice photo!” Oh, that’s a change!
“Very cute!” I thought so.
“Hey, you’ve deleted three entries!” And one more makes four.
Click. Delete.
He looked at the last two entries: an innocuous quote and a selfie of him showing off some wild looking socks. Should he leave them? They were harmless enough. But would he be giving them significance by not deleting them? Would fans read something into it all? Surely not. He’d leave them.
His eyes shifted to the flurry of comments hitting his Twitter timeline.
Why do you keep deleting tweets like this?”
“You know once you post, it’s out there forever, right?”
“Are you drunk?”
The man sighed. He had to do what he had to do. If it meant deleting posts, then so be it. He just couldn’t leave things on his timeline if it caused problems. Besides, he’d noticed that the deletions gave his fans something to discuss. They seemed almost as important as his posts which was handy during periods when he really had nothing to say. His finger hovered over the quote entry.
Click. Delete.
“I loved that quote!”
“Dude! What are you doing!”
“You gotta lay off the sauce, man!”
He eyed the socks entry. On second thought, the socks seemed controversial – verrrrry controversial. He had a right to change his mind didn’t he?
Click. Delete.
The man smirked. That should hold them.