ASHLEY
The video already has four million views in twenty-four hours!
I know because I keep refreshing it like a man picking at a scab, watching my own face fill the screen, glassy eyed and slurring.
The office window behind me is smeared with city light. In the video, I'm holding my sketchpad up to the camera like evidence in a trial nobody asked for.
"Noxx," drunk me says, jabbing a finger at the lens. "You want to know what Noxx is? Noxx is a coward hiding behind a name. Little wonder somebody else can stand up and take the credit because Noxx didn't have the balls to put his own face on it."
I was talking about myself. That's the part very few people know. I sat in that chair at three in the morning with scotch burning a hole through my chest and I told the truth about the man I've been for a whole year, but the internet decided I was throwing stones at my own rival.
My thumb moves to the comments. I've read them maybe forty times. I read them again anyway.
