Ada and I are on the couch watching something mindless that kids enjoy. It involves bright colours, loud noises and bad jokes.

“Why can’t we watch animal planet or something?” I try, for the sake of some inner parenting muscle that has long since atrophied.

“I like this.” She says simply. It’s an old conversation. I drop it because really it’s not a big deal and I like just sitting on the couch with her cuddled up against me. Family time, in my quiet, cosy apartment on the third floor.

During an ad break, they do a quick flash of the news coming on later and Ada sits up.

“Oooh! That’s Hale Heart.” She says, pointing at the figure currently filling the screen, waggling her eyebrows at me in a most disturbing way.

“Who?” I ask. I don’t keep up with pop culture much.

She rolls her eyes at me like she’s fifteen and not five. “He’s a singer. From this century.”

“Judgy.” I mutter but turn my attention back to the screen. Hale Heart is one of those classically beautiful sexy, caramel American types. Lenny Kravitz would be jealous. Average height, but gorgeous, lord. Coffee coloured skin and those crazy intense blue eyes, like the chick from the national geographic cover? And short, tightly curled hair.  When I was young and care-free, I had a term for this kind of guy: Full Swoon Effect. Self-explanatory. 

“Is he popular?” I try to fake being relevant.

She sighs at my disappointing lack of pop culture knowledge. “Yeah. And he’s cute.”

I turn to look down at her, unnerved. “Ada, you’re five. Don’t go around thinking boys are cute until you’re at least ten. For my sake.”

She ignored me and watches the TV instead.

“…news of his father’s death has been rumored to affect Hale Heart most profoundly, but he had only this to say;”

The screen cuts to an image of the man being surrounded by microphones, while he is obviously trying to get away.

‘I just want some time alone please. I’m in mourning and I deserve my privacy.’ He says, before turning away and readjusting his cap to cover his eyes better.

I freeze.

“Um, what did they say happened?” I ask Ada casually, while the news slides away and an advert for vacuum cleaners comes up.

“His dad died. Heart attack or something.” She sighs prettily. “He looks so sad. They should just leave him alone.”

I click my tongue.

Ah shit.

-8-

I decide its better not to tell BW07 that I know who he really is now. Although, in all honestly, it wasn’t that hard to work out. Unless he assumed I have no TV, I was going to get there on my own eventually. But if he didn’t want me to know, I was fine with that.

I bit my lip, because I have actively broken my rule about not socialising with my clients. Chatting definitely counts as socialising, even if it’s mostly counselling.

But since that day, we’ve been chatting on and off. Not stupid spam emails, but actual chatting. I don’t initiate, but I don’t tell him to stop either. He talks about his day, I share some jokes. It’s all very casual and friendly.

Except now I know what he looks like, and who he is.

I may have done a little online research.

Note to self: do not do online research about the current pop idol who is prettier than diamonds and stars.

Oh my soul. This man.

And now whenever he is typing to me, or tells me he’s laughing, I can just see it in my mind.

It’s not good for me. But yeah. Apparently sober Michael makes dumb choices too.

-8-

BW07: so it just occurred to me, I owe you money. Could you send me a bill sometime?

I frown.

O: why do you owe me money?

Bw07: because I’ve definitely used more than my initial three emails haven’t I?

Hmm, he has a point. But at this stage, I just don’t feel right taking money from him. We’d becomes sort of…friends. Or something.

O: don’t stress it. I don’t feel like you owe me anything.

A fairly lengthy pause.

BW07: are you absolutely sure? I have the money.

O: lol, I don’t think you’re poor. It just doesn’t feel ethical at this point.

BW07: ha, you didn’t have a problem with charging me before.

O: yeah but that was then. I don’t know, I guess I feel like you’re a friend now? Can’t charge friends.

It’s a risky thing to say. Because he could easily just say no, we're not. But I would be surprised if he did that now.

BW07: ok. but I still feel guilty. I know you’ve been cutting into your time to help me out…

I roll my eyes.

O: if I say no, I mean it. I’m not bullshitting you. Besides I only reply to you after school’s done. If you really want to give me money, go buy me a coffee at a local coffee store and dedicate it to me. I could use someone to supplement my coffee addiction.

I’m half paying attention to the conversation while I set some course work in another program with one hand, and sign Ada's homework diary with the other. When I hear the bloop I click back quickly.

Bw07: school hours?

Shit. Fuckity shit.

O: um, I was distracted. Didn’t mean to let that slip.

Bw07: its ok. you a student?

Ha. I should be, but no. thinking carefully, I type a reply.

O: no. um, like I said, I didn’t mean to say anything…personal.

Bw07: ha! It’s not a call-sex line. Besides I thought we were friends now? :)

O: ha! Ass.

I’m grinning because he’s kind of right.

Bw07: so? Not a student. A teacher then?

O: oh all right, you wheedled it out of me. Yes, I’m a teacher. I teach middle school.

Bw07: Wow. do you enjoy it?

I think about the question. Not a lot of people ask me that, when they find out what I do.

O: it’s ok. I don’t always want to tear my hair out so there’s that.

Bw07: you really make me smile. Just ok? Not your dream job?

O: does anyone really get their dream job? No, I wanted to teach on a tertiary level, but I didn’t get far enough in college.

Bw07: yeah? You sound like that wasn’t the plan.

O: it wasn’t. Things…life, happened.

There’s a pause and I use it to think. I know he’s going to ask me about Roanne. Which will mean telling him a lot more about myself than I had planned. But I’m feeling guilty cos I basically know a lot more about him that I’m supposed to too.

BW07: can I ask?

Biting my lip then sighing in a big whoosh I reply.

O: well, ok, I’ll tell you. Cos were FRIENDS now. I was in my second year at college when my best friend and her husband died in a car accident. They had a 6 month old baby girl, and I was the only one who could take her. So yeah, basically I had to drop out so I could look after her, ‘be a dad’ kind of thing.

A much longer pause this time.

Bw07: fuck.

O: that’s what I said

Bw07: wow. That’s…amazing. I mean it.

I smile ruefully to myself, before taking a sip of the coffee I forgot about. That's the usual reaction.

O: it was a big deal then. It’s not now.

Bw07: that must have been incredibly hard. I can’t even get my head around it.

O: when you get thrown into something, you don’t have the luxury of choice. I had to take her or leave her to social services. And I would never have done that. So yeah.

…..

Bw07: well, you’ve officially got more of my respect than most people I know.

I actually chuckle a bit at that.

O: such a privilege. ;P

Bw07: um, thanks for telling me that. I just thought you went overseas or something. I wasn’t trying to pry.

O: real life is much less glamorous. it’s ok. I wouldn’t have told you if I was uncomfortable with it. Also, for all you know I am overseas.

Bw07: good. I would hate that. And I don’t think you are, since we seem to be on the same timeline after all :)

I take another strengthening sip of luke-warm coffee. Not very effective but it’s all I had.

O: look, since were being honest, I have to tell you something else. Um, don’t be mad.

Bw07: ok? (Insert expectant pause)

O: I know who you are. Sorry.

Because I’m chicken shit, I get up after typing that and go make myself another cup of coffee. By the time I get back, I’m feeling not very much braver, but I open the chat bar anyway.

Bw07: you do?

Bw07: wait are you sure?

Bw07: how did you find out?

Bw07: how long have you known?

I take a breath before responding.

O: yeah I do. Yes I’m sure. I figured it out after watching the news and you quoted me. So about a month I guess. Since your dads funeral.

Super long silence. I wince, hoping I haven’t completely pissed him off. But I’m just too honest to keep something like that hidden for long.

O: if it helps, I don’t really care.

Bw07: are you really sure though? Type my real name then.

I roll my eyes.

O: Hale Heart

Bw07: shit.

O: sorry

O: are you mad?

….

Bw07: no. not actually. I guess I should be, but I’m not.

Bw07: kind of nice actually. I hate lying.

O: anonymity isn’t lying though.

Bw07: well no. but were friends.

O: hmm. so you say ;)

Bw07: what does that mean? :)

O: it means you didn’t volunteer to tell me. I had to figure it out myself.

Bw07: I guess you’re right.

Bw07: wait, is that your way of saying you’re not going to tell me who you are?

O: bingo 

bw07: that’s not fair! You barely had to try.

O: not my fault you’re famous.

Bw07: that’s a bitter pill. Not only do you know I am, you know what I look like.

My fingers halt above the keyboard before starting again, a bit slowly.

O: oh, like that’s such a hardship, since you’re…anyway. why does it matter what I look like?

Bw07: maybe I want to know what you look like. Cute, ugly, tall short, blonde brunette?

I swallow and try for a joke.

O: I’m ugly, short and I’ve got warts. Ask anyone.

Bw07: I can’t, since I have no idea who you are, and thus don’t know your friends.

O: he he he (evil laughter)

…….

Bw07: I could find out you know. There are ways to track down this address.

That brings me up short. Immediately my back is up.

O: are you fucking serious?

O: I didn’t go looking to find you, it just happened cos you were on the news. I wouldn’t even have told you about it but I was trying to be honest.

Bw07: Shit. I’m sorry.

O: I don’t even care if you were the pope’s personal fucking assistant. But I tell you I don’t want you to find out about me and you actually threaten to use your money and influence so fucking stalk me?

Bw07: I’m really sorry. That was stupid.

O: I’m actually furious. What the actual fuck. This is why I don’t socialise. THIS is why there is the three email rule.

Bw07: I’m so sorry. Like really. That’ was an asshole move. I regretted it the second I pressed send.

I’m seething. I can’t actually think straight I’m so pissed, and no pun intended.

O: you of all people should understand the right to privacy. I’m done for the night. Chat later.