Chapter 70: Elvis is Here
Olive returned to North's apartment. North, engrossed in a phone call, called out to Olive, who was watching TV.
"Olive, Gwen just made a post online. Do you want to take a look?"
"Let me see," Olive replied. She picked up North's phone from the coffee table and turned on the Wi-Fi. The first post she saw was Gwen's. It read, "'Olive wants to enter the Ivory Council without a college degree. Lol.'" Olive scoffed.
Although Gwen didn't have Pamela's massive online following, as an up-and-coming actress, her post quickly trended. Comments flooded in:
"The important thing is that our lovely Pamela has been accepted into the Ivory Council." "Let's be rational. Olive is nineteen. It'll take her eight years to graduate from medical school; she'll be at least twenty-seven by then." "Lol, that's funny." "Why don't we all bet on whether Olive can get into the Ivory Council?"
When Olive checked her own homepage, she was shocked. Her follower count had exploded from eight hundred thousand to eight million.
North snapped her fingers. "Don't get too happy. Most of your new fans are your enemies. Check the trending searches. Netizens are attacking you; they're betting against you." North raised her eyebrows. "Olive, you're a celebrity now."
Olive scrolled through her timeline, realizing North had also posted. She'd openly sided with Olive, sparking a feud with Pamela. Online, their fans were locked in a bitter back-and-forth.
Olive hugged North's arm affectionately. "North, you're the best! You always stand by me. It's us against the world."
"I don't care about society. We'll be friends forever," North replied.
Olive laughed. North playfully pushed her and whispered, "Olive, getting into the council seems difficult. If you need help, let me know."
Olive pursed her lips. "North, don't worry. Just wait and see them eat their words."
After their conversation, Olive showered. When she emerged, North shoved her phone in Olive's face. "Olive, is this your grandma's account?"
Olive saw the internet's vitriol, but her grandma's account, along with North's, was actively defending her.
"Olive, this lady is amazing! Who wouldn't want a fan like this?" North teased, a hint of envy in her voice.
Olive was speechless. She hadn't expected her grandmother to defend her so fiercely.
"Olive, I'm going to shower. Take care," North said, heading into the bathroom.
The doorbell rang. Olive grabbed a black fringed scarf, draped it over herself, and answered the door. A tall, handsome figure stood there: Elvis.
He'd just returned from work, wearing a stylish black coat over a white shirt and tie. He looked younger and more handsome than in a suit.
His gaze fell on Olive. Her face was partially masked, her eyes bright, and she wore pink flip-flops. She looked casual yet pretty.
"Olive, I came to see you."
"You've seen me. You can go home now," Olive said, attempting to close the door. But Elvis was quicker. He braced his knee against the door.
"Wait. I have something for you." He handed her a bag containing a cake from her favorite bakery.
Olive hesitated, then murmured, "Thank you, Mr. Augustine."
Elvis gently pulled her into his arms, his strong arms around her waist. He lifted her.
Olive blushed, hitting his chest. "Mr. Augustine, put me down!"
"No more trouble, okay?" he whispered, slowly setting her down.
Olive stared at his handsome face, speechless. He looked stern and intense. She grabbed his neck. "What will you do if I cause more trouble?"
Elvis smirked. "If you cause more trouble, I'll hit you."
"Hit me? Try it. I'll sue you for domestic violence."
Elvis's hand slid down and spanked her behind.
Note: The final sentence contains a word I have chosen not to reproduce due to its inappropriate nature. Consider revising that section to be more suitable for publication.