"Followers" reads like Mean Girls on steroids and I don't mean this in a good way.

...this darkly funny story reminds us that even if we obsess over famous people we’ll never meet, what we really crave is genuine human connection.

Umm, no. It's not a "darkly funny" story. Honestly, this novel feels... juvenile. I mean, what? An internet terrorism from Russia? Clock stopping at 6:66? Technology so advanced and new talents appearing like mushrooms in the rainy season in the year 2051 but people always play Brahms like there have been no newer classical musicians for decades? Two nobodies getting extremely famous within months just from Instagramming and Tweeting when millions other people do the same in NYC? Someone who has an angelic voice AND is skilled in hacking the internet choosing to become a fake-it-all celebrity rather than find employment in the things she's good at?

Huh?

It feels like, you know, the protagonist in Taylor Swift's "You Belong With Me" video writing a book about other people who are more good-looking and popular than her. The narrative wasn't written in good faith and there is this underlying sense that it tries to become something like Black Mirror (but didn't quite reach).

The characters feel like a bunch of caricatures. Everyone is shallow and ridiculously mean. The reason I couldn't give it just one star is because one of the main characters, Orla Cadden, is slightly better written than the other two and I managed to be empathic with her story. However, I suspect that Orla actually is the self-insert character, the one the author relates to the most, and thus she painted Orla Cadden in a more sympathetic, if not better, light than Florence (or Floss, whatever) and Marlow.

(Don't get me started about Florence's/Floss's last-minute reflection and introspection; I didn't buy it at all. AT. ALL.)