Summary:

Shane's, or Jane's he supposed, follower count grew, fell, wavered, then rebounded when something he said seemed to resonate with someone who shared it and then it spread from there. Presumably his team was also posting about his sponsorships and the partner brands who payed him exorbitant amounts of money to pretend he used their products. Nothing he could say as Jane could every compare to the slimy feeling that crawled up his spine each time he took a photo of his hand taking a bottle/can/container of something out of his fridge/cabinet/shelves to pretend it was part of his daily routine.

He'd take all the nasty comments because as Jane he'd earned them saying things he believed. Shane Hollander the Golden Boy didn't have beliefs, he had brand partnerships. He was a body who could smile and hold things, label out. He had a choreographed smile which said trust me I drink this, would I lie to you?

Jane didn't lie. Jane said what she felt, what Shane felt.

or

Shane makes a burner account and accidentally cements himself as Ilya's biggest fan.