Izzy wrote something under the picture of the whale. All good things are wild and free.
She must have known about the tattoo. Another message came through now from her.
“Hope Brazil was a blast. Am sure you rocked it! And thanks ten million for sorting out the tix for Brisbane. Am totally stoked. As we Gold Coasters say.”
There were a few emojis of whales and hearts and thanking hands and a microphone and some musical notes.
Nora checked her Instagram. In this life she had 11.3 million followers.
And bloody hell, she looked amazing. Her naturally black hair had a kind of white stripe in it.
Vampiric make-up. And a lip piercing. She did look tired but she supposed that was just a result of living on tour.
It was a glamorous kind of tired. Like Billie Eilish’s cool aunt.
She took a selfie and saw that while she didn’t look exactly like the excessively styled and filtered photos on her feed,
which had been for magazine shoots, she did look cooler than she ever imagined she could look.
As with her Australian life, she also put poems up online.
The difference with this life, though, was that each poem had about half a million likes.
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