#schoolbomber was still top on Ambie’s “Trends for you” list on Twitter. Next was #youthvoice, then the name of Lamar’s new album, and the next two came from YouTubers he followed – but sixth was #hanghim. Ambie moved his other hand from under the covers to tap his smartphone. The top of the screen changed to show the same old image of Stold, arrogantly looking out from under a backwards baseball cap.
     He scrolled down. The only other common shot of the kid was of him being led up to the courtroom, police struggling to hold back a baying crowd in the background. Every other image had been Photoshopped to show Stold in a noose, or coloured red with devil horns and empty eyes, or riddled with knives, or something like that.
     Ambie felt Dante’s arm slip around him from behind to place a cool hand on Ambie’s chest. When Ambie didn’t react, Dante pulled himself closer until his bare belly was flat against Ambie’s bare back.
     Ambie continued to just stare at his smartphone. “Hey.”
     Dante raised his lips to Ambie’s ear. “What you doin’, babe?”
     Ambie jerked his phone. “Look at this. Guy kills two hundred kids, and he’s more a celeb than Lamar. What’s wrong with the world?”
     Dante stroked Ambie’s shoulder. “It’s your feedback loop, remember. Not everyone sees that. I mean, come on: how many guys our age have #youthvoice in their top trends?”
     Ambie turned enough to see Dante’s fingertips. “I bet more than you think.”
     Dante sighed and rolled away. A few seconds later he sat up. “Here.”
     With a loud yawn, Ambie sat up to join him, and looked at the trend list on the phone in Dante’s hand. Top was Lamar’s new album, second was #youthvoice.
     Ambie’s finger shot out. “There? Stold’s in your list too. Fourth one down. Ha.”
     But Dante wasn’t phased. “Exactly. Fourth down. And he’s probably only there ‘coz you borrowed my phone yesterday. Or maybe ‘coz you keep taggin’ me in your tweets about him.”
     Ambie sank down a little. “Nah, man. I mean, look at it. See all these memes people are postin’. There’re thousands tweetin’ about him.”
     “Thousands maybe, but not millions. People don’t wanna remember arseholes like him. They wanna forget.”
     After a quick flick of his finger on the screen, Ambie held his device for Dante to see the seventh hashtag in his trend list: #neverforget.
     Dante flattened his expression. “That’s for the victims, not the killer.”
     Ambie rolled back onto his side and sighed.
     Dante stretched, then slid down to spoon his lover. “Aw, don’t worry babe — you’ll be famous one day too. Way more famous than a serial killer.”
     Ambie gave a grunt.
     Dante held him tighter. “Babe, the world you see on social media is a world you make for yourself. If it were just about important stuff, everyone would be walking or cycling to work by now to fight climate change. Look — if you wanna control what someone else sees, you either got to spend loads on ads, or get a reputation for doing something big.”
     Ambie rolled his eyes.
     Dante’s hand cupped Ambie’s shoulder. “And you, babe — you’re gonna do something big. I know it.”
     Ambie placed a hand over Dante’s. “I know, man, I know.”
     He looked back at his smartphone, and met the arrogant eyes of Stold.
     “I know.”

Next Chapter: Minister