Yes

I was sitting on my bed, coffee in hand and with my laptop on my lap.

I’d promised myself to go and check out that Twitter-thing, that Norman was on.

I was curious.

But the whole site was so confusing. I managed to create an account but then what? To be friends with someone in there was just to follow them, or? I tried clicking random places, random persons and groups in there, and suddenly hundreds of tweets were lined down the site. I curiously scrolled down to get a better picture of what it was all about. Apparently I had followed a lot of ones that had something to do with Norman; both The Walking Dead related and not.

I stumbled across a profile that said “a norman stalker” and clicked.

The account was loaded with pictures and articles about Norman, commenting on his every move; where he was, what he was working on, pictures from and of fans meeting him or seeing him here in NY and much more.

I felt a bit like a stalker myself, as I scrolled down further and further. I thought it exciting to watch what people actually was saying about him; and how so many girls both loved and wanted him.

His fan base was huge!

I knew he was an acknowledged actor and all, but had I thought it to be at this level? Never… My eyes fell upon a tweet from a couple of days ago saying “Warning ladies: be ready to have your hearts broken”.

A YouTube video was attached to it, and I clicked to watch it. It was in bad quality and you couldn’t really tell what was up and down. But it reminded me of something: a strange feeling of déjà vu growing in my stomach.

It felt like I was watching an old dream. Like I had experienced this; all the sounds and lights, but I couldn’t point out where or when. You could hear people talking in rushed voices and laughter as the camera turned to what seemed the goal of the video.

A couple; a guy and a girl standing in the middle of a crowd of people, who took pictures of them and chatted with them.

And then it hit me.

The couple was Norman and me…

My heart started beating faster as I realized what the video would contain.

Norman kissing me.

I hurriedly lit a cigarette as my nerves started acting like I was on speed again. I watched myself cover my face in embarrassment and turn to Norman for comfort. I remembered how very helpless I had felt in that situation.

And then the kiss.

And the wooing. The girl holding a camera was whispering out to someone “oh no”, and I suddenly felt bad.

All the comments lined up under the clip were filled with questions about the kiss: was it real? Did it mean something? Was he dating that girl? Who was she? And the comments on Twitter were even worse. They didn’t even consider if the kiss was real, they just assumed it was, and they made comments about me. Some were okay, I guess, saying I looked pretty and what not. But others were nasty, saying I should leave him alone, that they wanted me gone and all such of unpleasant things.

I swallowed hard.

I could understand why the female fans would be a bit jealous if Norman started dating someone.

I mean, he is a great guy. And that was fine.

But wanting me gone? Hating me for… Hating me for the fact that he liked me, that he kissed me?

That was crazy.

But I couldn’t help but to read more comments. Even when I knew it would just make me feel even worse. One of the comments said: “It’s the same chick he tweeted a pic of last week!” and another one read: “Yeah, and the same girl he was with here… Oh, the heartbreak!” And that was the picture Norman had told me about; a picture of him and me in The Politian with our sunglasses on, flipping off to the camera. It was always easy spotting me in the crowd; my crazy blonde curls always gave me away, so it didn’t come as a surprise that they could tell it was the same girl in every picture. And there were also pictures from the night we got raped by the paparazzi.

I was starting to feel depressed.

I need to stop this shit; fucking social media sites!

For a first timer, it had been a horrible experience. I closed the page. I quickly skimmed through my mail before wanting to close down the computer. I had to get off it, out, away from all the critique. If I’d had a phone I’d called Norman right away.

He would know what to do.

My eyes froze on the screen. I could hear the blood rush to my ears as I read the unmarked email with the subject reading “Casting for female role, IMPORTANT”.

I forced my fingers to let the mouse over the email and clicked it. My mind was on overload.

“I was informed by Reedus that you are interested in taking the role as Maria in our upcoming movie. We are interested in holding a casting where we can decide whether you hold the requirements we are looking for. Please note the date and time for this further down. If I do not hear from you before the casting date, I will assume that you agree with the date and time. Good day. Director Troy Duffy.”

It took a while for me to stop screaming and dancing.

I think my neighbors might have thought someone was being killed in here.

When I calmed down I read the whole thing again.

“Date and time, date and time,” I mumbled to myself. “August 27, seven pm, The Viper Room, NY.”

My blood froze.

That was today. In three hours.

“Shit!”