The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 903

Clive frowned in confusion. He tapped the green messaging icon, and a tidal wave of texts poured in.

Most were from his fair-weather friends from his clubbing days, while others were from fringe industry associates who lived for drama.

"Clive, is that trending topic true?!"

"Damn, didn't know you partied THAT hard!" followed by a string of winking emojis.

"Clive, need a PR fix? (smirking face)"

"Bro, you good?"

"You should've told me you caught that kind of bug! You need cash? Want me to front you some?"

"Did you piss someone off again?"

As a former idol, Clive's instincts flared. He knew immediately that something had spiraled disastrously out of control.

Staring at the mocking messages from people relishing his downfall, a dark, venomous rage shot straight to his head.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers trembling slightly as he straight-up uninstalled the app. The digital noise was temporarily silenced.

But he knew he was only lying to himself.

Taking a deep breath, he hovered his thumb over the Twitter icon. After a few agonizing seconds of hesitation, he resigned himself and tapped it.

The app's loading screen felt like it took a century.

When it opened, the blindingly obvious trending hashtag seared itself into his retinas like a branding iron.

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