The Sycophants

She had arrived in my life very well announced. 

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For years, she had tried to establish a connection through distant friends, glowing DMs on social media, and not-so-fortuitous fortuitous encounters. I knew of her because she kept showing up in my life, like many others at the time when I owned the perceived power of "making or breaking” fashion brands. 

She was a bit late to the party, as I had already left behind my days of being a true influencer. But I didn’t want to offend her, telling her that there were probably much more interesting D-list personalities to pursue. Instead, I just did my usual contortionist routine of sliding smilingly through her claws (an act I’ve perfected for these types of people).

So how did it happen that, one day, she was there, next to me, calling herself my best friend? 

And that I was nodding in return, unconvinced but nonetheless seriously invested in whatever that relationship was?

I guess that she slid through the cracks. Because cracks in my shining a…