{EMY}
I stared at the screen far longer than was healthy.
Not because I was grateful.
Not because I was angry.
But because I knew—I knew—what always followed when someone like Lance decided to speak.
When Lance opened his mouth, the world didn't just listen.
It amplified.
It echoed.
It exploded.
The post glared back at me, bold and undeniable, sitting comfortably at the top of the trending list like it owned the place.
Maybe I could delete it?
The thought barely finished forming before it collapsed under reality.
Too late.
Screenshots were everywhere. Screen recordings. Reuploads. Reaction videos. Commentary threads. Analysis posts. Fan edits. Conspiracy theories.
It was already being dissected by strangers with Wi-Fi and too much free time.
Worse—much worse—it came from his official account.
Not a burner.
Not a vague statement.
Not a "close source."
His account.
The verified one.
