Dad is hiding. He’s stopped singing about chips because he can still read Mum’s moods very well and she’s not in a good one. He peeks out from behind the door in the hallway and pretends to cut his neck with his hand. This is our code for She is ready to kill someone.
Aunty Teresa has decided the ice-cream van needs urgent maintenance (to be fair, it does and always will). Even Granddad has run to the shed. And he used to be a Royal Marine who lived on insect omelets in the jungle and did twenty-mile runs with fourteen bricks in his rucksack. Or something.
Mum is terrifying. Magnificent but terrifying. Which is great when you’re seven and your teacher makes you a tree in the Christmas play rather than a shepherd because he thinks “that’s a job for boys.” It’s great when your mum storms up to the school to complain and, the next thing you know, you’re carrying a shepherd hook and Kyle Turner is being your sheep. That was fantastic, but it’s not so good now.
Mum does her quiet psycho voice. She doesn’t lose her temper. She is reasonable. Apart from the time she threw a hand blender across the kitchen, she has always been a model of total control. Zero spoon and maximum excellence.
She stares at me.
“Millie, we need to talk. I’m worried that you are giving away too much about your life online. Why do you want to share it all with strangers? Why can’t you talk to me about all this? That’s what I’m here for!”
“Mum!” I feel very like I know what I’m doing here. “I don’t want to fall out with you about it, but the whole point is that my vlog is about being honest. I wanted to do something different, and that means being REAL and—”
“Can I stop you there?” she interrupts. “Have you considered, Millie, the implications of what you are doing? Millie, I know you are very emotionally intelligent FOR YOUR AGE and always have been. I’m not going to patronize you. And I’m proud of you for trying to help people. But I’m your mother, and it’s my job to keep you safe and well. I’ve read the comments people have left and they are horrible. Horrible. And when I think of my little girl having to read that from … well, I don’t know what those people are, but I don’t want you anywhere near them, Millie. And don’t tell me you’re not affected by it, because I know you are.”
And I am affected. I really am. Who wouldn’t be? It’s awful.
Mum looks like she’s about to sob massively. “You’re my little girl.”
This is my chance to explain. “Mum. You told me I should never stop what I want to do because other people might laugh at me. You have always stuck up for me. That’s why I became a shepherd and not a tree. Now I can fight trolls!”
“But you shouldn’t have to!” Mum REALLY YELLS. “I nearly joined YouTube myself. I was going to call myself ‘MilliesMum’ and have a go at all the tools that said nasty things to you. You’re very good, Millie. You present well, and you’re funny. And no, you don’t need makeup. You can use it if you want to, but you don’t need it. Come off YouTube, Millie. Please.”
“I can handle it!” I yell.
“Can you really, Millie?” Mum whispers.
I look at Mum and start to cry. It just all hits me. The names. The “ugly” thing. The fountain of chips. Danny seeing me create a fountain of chips. Lauren being all cold and weird.
“See!” Mum hugs me. “This wouldn’t have happened if you were still living with me.”
“Oh, Mum!” That just makes me cross. “Nothing would have happened if I still lived with you because I had to do everything your way. It wasn’t all Gary and McWhirter’s fault. It’s you, too! Even though I never did anything stupid, you always had to tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing.”
This isn’t fair AT ALL, but I’m not feeling fair.
Mum sighs. “Perhaps I was a bit tough on you, but I’m so proud of what I’ve created. It’s a tough world, Millie! VERY tough. Just give the vlogging a rest for a little while. That will be the sensible thing to do.”
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree. “Okay, I’ll THINK about it.”
Mum hugs me again and says, “Thank you.”
She leaves, and Dad comes out of hiding.
When I’m back in my bedroom, I’ve got a message from Danny.
Sorry about the chips. The great news is, you fall over really well. Can’t wait to see how you tackle exploding food in your vlog ☺
I don’t think Danny is being horrible! He’s trying to make me smile. Like REAL friends do.
I message him.
I’m giving up #Help 
He responds immediately.
Why? Are you going to make a big announcement about it?
The trolls and stuff … No. I haven’t decided what to do yet.
Millie, don’t do this because of dumb comments. You do know you’re not ugly, don’t you? Red-lipped batfish—they are ugly. But not you.
What’s a red-lipped batfish?
I’m almost frightened to ask.
It’s this fish that looks like it has put red lipstick on in the dark and has a lamp on its head. It could never do a vlog. I saw it on Animal Planet. Dad was building a naval destroyer and there was nothing else on.
He sends me a photo of it.
I act cool. I don’t know how to respond. So I don’t. Why is Danny telling me I am not ugly? This feels weird.
My phone dings. Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any worse, I have a notification. Erin Breeler’s new vlog has launched. Of course I have to see it.