The boom mike lowered as the camera began to roll, Nev Schulman looked down the lens and announced, "Hey! My name is Nev."

His co-host gave a casual raise of his hand in greeting. "And I'm Max,"

"Welcome to 'Catfish’," Nev finished their trademark opening. "So, we've received an email from Pam in Scranton, Pennsylvania." He shuffled, adjusting himself, then the laptop screen before he let out a small cough to clear his throat. "It says, 'Hi Nev and Max, I'm Pam, and I've been speaking to Jim online for the past seven months. He sent me a friend request on Facebook, I accepted and we've talked every day since. Here's where I need your help. After speaking for so long and hitting it off, I'm eager to take this to the next level and meet Jim in person, but he's so hot and cold, I can’t always read him." Nev paused, glancing up at Max with one eyebrow raised.

Max shook his head knowingly, already anticipating where this was going. 

Nev continued, "As I said, we speak daily, and I don't want to come across as clingy or possessive, but one day he'll show so much interest, talking about a future together, the next he’ll flip and make me feel like he’s not interested. He'll take forever to reply to my messages, sometimes it can be a couple of days, and he avoids answering my direct questions about meeting altogether. When it comes to where we see this going, and our future, and he sounds like he wants everything I do, but the minute I bring up meeting each other, he has plans or something happens last minute, and he doesn't show.'"

Nev lay his hands down flat on the desk, pushing so his arms straightened out. He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. His fingers drummed against the wooden surface as he thought about the letter, familiar from start to finish thanks to all the other times they'd heard this exact scenario.

"How do they not learn?" Max sounded weary, throwing his hands up. "All the seasons we've done this show, all the episodes out there, you'd think people would pick up on the warning signs!" He gestured towards the laptop. "Video chat! Always insist on a video chat!"

Nev nodded, his expression somewhere between concerned and amused at his friend’s ramblings. He sucked in a deep breath before picking up where he left off. "Everyone keeps telling me he could be a catfish, but they don't see how sweet, kind, and genuinely considerate he is when we talk. After getting out of a long-term relationship, I really want to believe that I could have actually found The One. But how can I believe that? How can I plan a future with someone who refuses to meet me? I'm so confused and unsure about everything, I just feel like there’s something I’m missing, something’s not sitting right. Please, Nev and Max, could you help me figure out if this could be the beginning of forever? All my thanks, Pam."

The room went quiet for a moment before Nev broke the silence by clapping hishands together and exclaiming "Alright! Let's give her a call!"

He shuffled into a comfortable position and opened the Skype app, calling the number he'd already put in before the cameras started rolling. The dial tone sounded a few times before a young woman in her mid twenties appeared on screen. Her auburn hair fell in tight frizzy curls over her shoulders, she tucked a shorter piece that framed her face behind her ear. She was clearly nervous, her body tense as she raised a hand in greeting at seeing the two hosts and offered them a tight smile. 

"Hey, Pam!" Max called out, offering his most unthreatening tone. "Great to meet you face to face, sort of," he added with a soft chuckle. "Thanks for reaching out and taking the time to speak with us today! How about you tell us more about your relationship with Jim? Start from the beginning."

Pam's eyes darted away from the computer, seeming to look away from Nev and Max even though they weren't physically in front of her. She tugged at the sleeve of her oversized, cream cardigan which although it seemed to drown her in the first place, she still wrapped further around herself, like it would protect her.

"Hey guys," she began, her voice timid. "I have to admit, um, I wasn't completely sure if reaching out was the right thing to do. I kept going back and forth," She offered them a self-deprecating smile. "But you know, this whole situation with Jim, well… it's complicated, and I didn't know who else to turn to."

"Hey, no, you've absolutely done the right thing by contacting us!" Nev said confidently. "We're here to help, and we're going to get to the bottom of this, hopefully unite you with Jim," he paused like he was thinking, "or at least give you the answers you deserve." He gave her a reassuring smile before settling back. "So, how about you tell us a bit more about yourself? We read in your email that you just got out of a long term relationship?"

Pam nodded, her fingers working nervously at a loose thread on her cardigan. She forced herself to maintain eye contact with the screen. "Yeah, uh, we were together for,” she thought about it for a few seconds before deciding it didn’t really matter how long “years. It was fine, I guess? Comfortable. But he just wasn't the right person for me, you know? He didn't support what I wanted the way Jim does."

"And what kind of support did you need that your ex wasn't providing?" Nev asked gently, years of investigative experience kicking in.

Pam's face lit up slightly, the first spark of true Pam they'd seen. "Well, I wanted to go back to school, which I'm actually doing now, thanks to Jim. My ex used to tell me it was a stupid idea, that it was a waste of time, and wouldn't amount to anything. He would rather use the money we were saving for our future on Jet Skis and beer. He didn't realise that if I used some for school, it would be an investment. In us." Her voice grew stronger. "I know it might seem like a long shot to some people, but I’ve always dreamt of working in the art world. I'm not expecting to have my work hanging in the Louvre or anything, but I want to do something I love."

Both Nev and Max nodded, watching as Pam shifted between confidence and vulnerability. She'd started picking at the skin around her thumbnail, a nervous habit that showed more than she probably realised about how she was really feeling.

"I stayed in that relationship way longer than I should have," she confessed, her voice almost a whisper. "We just... grew apart, you know? Became different people who wanted different things. When we finally broke up, it was actually a relief. Then, maybe a month later, Jim sent me a friend request, and everything just started from there."

When she mentioned Jim's name, a small smile crept across her lips, spreading all the way to her eyes. The change was subtle but hard to ignore.

"He means the world to you," Max said gently.

Pam nodded, suddenly looking self-conscious, like she'd revealed too much. "He just... he gets me. In a way no one else ever has."

Nev leaned forward, clapping his hands together. "Well, Pam, we're going to figure this out, I promise. We're going to find out whatever the truth might be. Thanks for taking the time to talk with us today. We'll be headed out to Scranton to meet you in person tomorrow morning, but in the meantime, could you send us any information you have on Jim? Screenshots of conversations, links to his social media profiles, photos he's sent you, literally anything that might help us investigate before we arrive. Then hopefully we'll have some answers for you when we see you in person."

Pam nodded rapidly. "Yes, absolutely! I'll send everything once we hang up."

"Perfect, thanks, Pam. Try to get some rest tonight, and we'll see you soon. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Thank you both so much," she replied, a quiver of emotion in her voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Nev ended the call and pushed back from the desk, swiveling to face Max.

"Alright," Max began, doing the same. "We need to figure out who Pam's been speaking to for the past seven months. Is it really this Jim guy from the photos, this person she feels such a deep connection with? Or are we looking at another classic catfish situation?" He scooted closer to the desk just as Nev opened their work email.

"Let's find out," Nev replied. "Perfect timing, too, her email just came through." He clicked on the new message, eyes scanning quickly. "Okay, she's given us a link to his Facebook profile, let's start with that."

Nev copied the link into their browser, and both men leaned forward as Jim's Facebook profile loaded. They took everything in.

"Red flag number one," Nev broke the silence, pointing at the screen. "His profile was created in August, which means it's brand new, basically right before he and Pam started talking." He shot Max a sceptical look. "And look, he has just short of sixty friends, almost exclusively women."

"Ooh, minus one point for Jim! Sorry, buddy!" Max laughed, clearly enjoying the drama. "Classic catfish behavior. Are there any comments? Any signs of genuine interaction?"

Nev scrolled through the profile, scanning the statuses for comments. "Nope, basically radio silence.” He clicked into an album titled ‘mobile uploads’, “But look here, this photo has three likes." He pointed to a picture of a young man with shaggy, mousy brown hair. Mid twenties, holding a basketball, looking clammy in an oversized gray t-shirt. "And what a surprise, all three of them are from women."

"Time for some detective work," Max declared. "Let's reach out to these ladies and see what they know about our mystery man."

Nev rolled his shoulders before placing his hands back on the keyboard. "I'll send them our standard message." He read aloud as he typed. "'Hey, this is Nev from MTV's TV show 'Catfish.' We're currently investigating someone who might be using fake photos online, and we noticed you've interacted with the profile. Could you give us a call when you have a spare minute? We'd really appreciate any information you might have.'"

Both men sat back as Nev hit send on the final message.

Suddenly, the phone started ringing like the person on the other end had been expecting their message. The two men looked at each other before turning their attention to the phone. Nev reached over, turned on the loudspeaker and answered cautiously. "Hello?"

"Um, hey," came a puzzled female voice. "This is Katy, you guys just messaged my Facebook account." Her comment came out more like a statement.

"Yeah, hey, Katy!" Nev responded enthusiastically. "Thank you for getting back to us so quickly. So, are you familiar with the TV show 'Catfish'?"

There was a pause before an uncertain "Yeah..."

"Great! So we're currently making an episode, and we reached out to you because we noticed you liked a photo of a guy called Jim on Facebook. We figured you might be friends with him in real life. Could you tell us a little bit about how you know him?"

Another pause, followed by a slightly embarrassed giggle. "Is this seriously Nev, oh em gee," another giggle, this time a little flirtatious. "Um, well, I know the profile you're talking about, but honestly? He added me randomly like five or six months ago, and I just thought he was kinda cute, so I accepted."

Nev and Max rolled their eyes at each other; they'd heard this story too many times to count.

"So you don't actually know if the profile belongs to a real person, or?" Nev pressed, rolling his final ‘r’ into the question.

"No, sir, I'm sorry. I basically just accept friend requests from anyone who adds me, especially when they're as cute as that guy. I know that probably sounds bad, but..." She trailed off with another nervous laugh. "Sorry I couldn't be more helpful."

"No, no, that's okay, we appreciate it, thanks. Take care."

Nev hung up, and both men slumped back in their chairs, exchanging looks that captured their shared concern for Pam.

"Well, that was basically what we expected," Max said with a sigh. "Let's start getting our stuff packed up and ready for the trip to Scranton. Hopefully, the other women will call us back before we hit the road."

Nev nodded bleakly. "Yeah. You know, I've got a feeling this Jim guy is going to turn out to be someone completely different than who Pam thinks she's falling in love with. The question is: who is he, and why is he doing this to her?" They'd been wrong before, and that's what they held onto every time it started out this way. 

The camera lingered on both hosts as they began shutting down their equipment.

**

The trees whizzed past the windows of their rental car, a silver Hyundai, that had become their mobile office for the day. Nev sat in the passenger seat, occasionally checking his phone for updates, while Max navigated his way towards Scranton with the help of a GPS that didn't seem one hundred percent reliable. It had already directed them down to a dead end at the edge of a lake earlier, insisting there was a road there. They got back on track after some choice words and a three-point turn.

They'd connected with one of the two remaining women who'd liked Jim's Facebook photo, Brenda, the previous evening. The conversation had been basically a regurgitated version of Katy’s story. Random friend request, attractive profile picture, accepted without a second thought, zero knowledge of the person behind the account. After that, they'd called it a night.

The travel day itself had been the usual bore of airports, security lines, and uncomfortable airplane seats. They'd filmed their compulsory travel montage of goofy faces and quirky shots of them playing around in terminals and on the plane. The production team would edit it later and slap an upbeat indie track on it to make it vaguely entertaining.

Now, back on solid ground, they were on their way to meet Pam, holding onto cautious optimism for a happy ending. Although, if they were being honest with themselves, part of them craved things going wrong. The show got significantly more views that way, and there was an undeniable rush that came with exposing the liars, watching their carefully constructed facades crumble. It was the dark side of their job that neither liked to admit they enjoyed.

"In 200 yards," the GPS announced in its monotone voice. "Your destination will be on the right."

Max pulled into a parking spot on Marion Street, and they both stepped out, stretching their legs after the drive.

They'd agreed to meet at Zummo's Coffee Shop, a charming, locally owned place that felt worlds away from the Starbucks chains that ruled most American street corners.

Wooden decor covered almost every surface. Thick countertops and rustic tables, everything unique in their markings and the way they were shaped. Camping-style tin mugs lined the walls. The shop was pleasantly crowded. The smell of freshly ground coffee and something sweet baking, maybe cinnamon rolls or apple pie, filled the air. This was clearly the kind of neighborhood coffee shop where the baristas knew their regulars by name.

Nev and Max stopped just inside the doorway, eyes scanning the room. It didn't take long to spot her.

Pam sat alone at a table near the window. She was in her own world, occasionally sipping from a dainty grey terra porcelain cup, the matching pot resting on the table in front of her. Scattered around her were art supplies; multicolors of pencils, a well-used eraser, and a small pencil sharpener with shavings still curled up in its blade.

The cream cardigan from yesterday had been replaced by a soft, light olive sweater that complemented her auburn hair, which she'd pulled back into a loose, messy bun with a few strands framing her face.

Nev made his way over while Max headed to grab them coffee. Nev maneuvered between the occupied tables, his camera ready smile already in place.

"Pam, hey!" Nev called out warmly, extending his hand.

The sound of her name startled Pam out of her little world. She looked up, quickly set down her pencil, and stood, accepting Nev's handshake with a smile.

"Hey! It's so nice to meet you in person," she said, her voice carrying that same shy quality from their video chat, but with an edge of anxiety simmering somewhere underneath. Her hand was clammy, whether from nerves or gripping her pencil, Nev couldn’t tell.

They sat themselves back at the table she had secured, Pam carefully moving her art supplies to one side, closing her jotter pad and turning it face down. Max arrived shortly after, balancing two large to-go cups of coffee and a brown paper bag with grease stains seeping through. "Hope you guys like peanut butter," he announced cheerfully. "The barista told me their Peanut Butter Balls are legendary around here, so I grabbed a dozen." He set everything down, taking one out to try before the three of them settled in to carry on their conversation. 

"So," Nev began, taking a sip of his coffee, "before we dive into the investigation stuff, why don't you walk us through everything again? Sometimes details come out in person that don't quite make it through on video chat."

Pam nodded, wrapping her hands around her teacup finding comfort in the warmth. She recounted her story with Jim, this time revealing small additional details. How he'd complimented a piece of artwork she'd posted which got them talking in the first place, how they would talk via message for hours about little things like movies, bands and their childhoods, how he seemed to actually take notice of what she was saying in a way no one else ever had. Her face went through a sea of emotions, alternating mostly between hope and worry.

"He just makes me feel seen," she concluded. "Like I matter. Like my dreams aren't silly or impractical. He's always encouraging me, telling me I can do this. I don’t feel like so much of a burden like I did with my ex."

"That's really important," Max acknowledged, though it was really just a filler comment before he asked, "Could we maybe take a look at some examples of the actual messages you guys send each other? Sometimes the way people communicate tells us a lot about who they really are."

"Oh, yeah, of course," Pam said quickly, pulling her phone from her pocket. Her fingers moved across the screen easily, scrolling through what looked like a long chat history. She stopped at the start of their conversation from the previous night and turned the phone towards them.

Hey babe, couldn't stop thinking about you while I was at work. You're my everything, I hope you know that. 

You know I feel the same way. I really wish we could meet… 

I know, I do too. If my car hadn’t broken down last week, you know I would have been there in a heartbeat. Luck just isn’t on my side when it comes to meeting such a beautiful lady! 

These things happen But you'll make it up to me, right? 

Oh, you know it! We have our whole lives. I'll make it up to you every day ‘til the day I die.

Both Nev and Max leaned in to read, careful to control their expressions. The messages had that stereotypical love bombing style they'd seen so many times before. Over the top declarations of love before even meeting in person, promises that felt like lines from a 90's romcom.

"Wow," Max said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "He's pretty, uh…intense, huh? Is that something you like? That level of romantic declaration?"

Pam's cheeks flushed pink, and a genuine smile broke across her face as she brought her hand up to cover her mouth.

"Um, yeah," she responded like she was taking a test and wasn't sure she'd given the right answer. "I mean, I'm kind of quiet and reserved in my day to day life. So having someone who's so open about their feelings, who makes me feel so cherished? No one has ever shown me that much affection before. It's like he's not afraid to just put his heart out there."

While Pam was lost in her rose tinted version of the messages, Nev and Max exchanged a look across the table, one born from years of working together. Max's eyebrows rose sceptically, and Nev's mouth pressed into a thin line. 

"Before we dive into the technical stuff," Max said, setting down his coffee, "we should probably fill you in on what we found out yesterday. We reached out to a few women who liked Jim's photos on Facebook and two of them came back to us."

Nev nodded, his expression sympathetic. "Unfortunately, neither of them actually know Jim in real life. They both told us the same story. He added them randomly months ago, they thought he looked cute, so they accepted."

"So they can't say whether he's real or not?" Pam asked, sounding wary.

"No, I'm sorry," Max confirmed gently. "They were dead ends in terms of confirming his identity. But that's actually pretty common in these situations. People accept friend requests all the time without really thinking about it."

Pam nodded slowly, her fingers tightening around her teacup. The news wasn't what she'd hoped for and her trust in Jim waned a little.

"Okay, so," Nev said, trying to bring the conversation back, "we've looked at this guy's online profile, we've read through the messages, and we know the phone number he's texting from has a Scranton area code, which at least confirms he's local. But there's still so much we need to learn about who Jim really is before we can make any kind of concrete plan to meet him."

Pam made a muffled "mm" sound of agreement, nodding. She was eager to help and desperate for them to find something that would prove Jim was real and who he said he was. That he was worth months of emotional investment.

"We're thinking we should start with the good old reliable reverse image search," Nev continued, reaching beneath the table to pull out his laptop from a beat up messenger bag. He set it on the table and opened it up. It cameto life with a plinking noise. "You've already sent us some photos of Jim, so let's run those through the search engine and see what comes up."

Nev's fingers moved across the mouse pad, opening the desktop folder where he'd saved all of Pam's evidence. He selected the first photo; the basketball one. He dragged it into the search engine box and hit enter, all three of them leaning forward slightly.

The search ran for a few seconds, the little loading circle spinning, before returning: No results found.

"Okay, that's actually not bad so don't worry," Max commented. "Sometimes, no results means the photos aren't being widely used online. Let's try another one."

Nev selected a second image, more of a close up selfie of Jim looking directly at the camera with a slight smile. He dragged it into the search engine, clicked submit, and waited.

This time, the results populated almost immediately. A list of web pages appeared, and at the top was a familiar logo: Myspace.

"Hey, we got a hit!" Nev announced excitedly, clicking on the link and watching as the page loaded. "It's a Myspace profile...Jim Halpert, location listed as Scranton and it looks like he posted a status update about a month ago!"

He turned the laptop slightly so Pam could see better. He expected her to be overjoyed, but what he saw made him ache. 

Pam’s entire demeanour had changed. Her face, which seconds before had been full of hope, was now furrowed in confusion. Her elbow came up to rest on the table, hand curling into a tight fist as she rested her chin on her palm, her knuckles pressed against her mouth like she was physically holding back words, or maybe holding herself together. Her eyes continued to dart around the profile.

"I was about to say this is looking pretty optimistic," Nev said carefully, his voice gentle but probing. "I mean, he's using the exact same profile picture on Myspace as the Facebook profile you sent us. Same name, same location, everything matches up. But your face is telling me something completely different." He let out a small, humorless chuckle, more from nervous energy than amusement. "What's going through your mind right now?"

Pam slowly lifted her head from her hand, shaking it in small, almost imperceptible movements. Her eyes were still fixed on the laptop, but her focus seemed somewhere else, trying to wrap her head around what she was seeing versus what she'd been told.

"I've never seen this Myspace profile before," she said quietly, her voice not strong like before. She sounded hurt. "I didn't even know he had one. He specifically told me he didn't have Myspace anymore. He said he'd moved everything over to Facebook a couple of years ago and completely deleted his Myspace account."

There was a pause, heavy with everything that wasn't being said.

Nev and Max turned to look at each other, their expressions mirroring the other. The energy at the table had shifted from cautious optimism to plain uncomfortable.

"Ah," Max let out, unsure what else to say. 

They were familiar with these kinds of stories, as was anybody who'd watched the show.

Nev shifted in his chair, leaning forward with his most reassuring expression, one he'd perfected over years of handling difficult topics with hopeful romantics. "Hey, listen, just because he told you he doesn't have a Myspace profile doesn't necessarily mean it's not him," he said, though even he could hear the scepticism in his own voice. "I mean, maybe he forgot about it, or thought he'd deleted it but didn't do it properly. I know it raises some questions about why he would tell you that he’d deleted it, when the profile still exists and appears to be somewhat active, but the basic facts check out. It's the same name, Jim Halpert, and he lives in Scranton."

He paused, watching Pam's face. She looked like she was trying hard to hold herself together.

"The Jim you've been talking to could well be the same guy we're looking at right now," Nev continued, though he didn't know who he was trying to convince, himself or her. "But I think we should call it a day for now. This is a lot to take in, and I can see you're going to need some time. Let's all go get some rest, clear our heads, and we'll give you a call first thing in the morning to discuss our next steps and figure out where we should plan to meet Jim, or whoever this person is."

"Okay," Pam said, the word barely more than a whisper. If they hadn't been watching her so closely, they might not have heard her at all.

The three of them stood. Max moved first, stepping around the table to pull Pam into a warm hug. She accepted it, stiffly at first, then let herself melt into it slightly, her shoulders sagging as she let herself be supported.

Nev followed suit. "Try not to spiral too much tonight, okay?" he said softly, close to her ear as he pulled away. "We're going to figure this out. That's what we're here for." He looked her in the eye before patting her reassuringly on the shoulder a couple times.

Pam nodded but didn't say anything.

As Nev and Max gathered their things and headed towards the door, they both glanced back to see Pam sitting back down at the table, pulling her jotter pad back in front of her, flipping it over and open. But instead of picking up her pencil, she simply stared at the sketch she'd been working on.

The door chimed as they left, the brightness of the sun making them squint after being inside for so long.

"Well, that wasn't ideal," Max said quietly as they walked towards the car.

"No," Nev agreed, hands in his pockets. "No, it wasn't. And I have a feeling it's about to get worse before it gets better."

Neither of them said anything else as they climbed into the car and headed to their hotel, both already preparing themselves for whatever tomorrow might bring.

**

The next morning, they woke up far earlier than they would have liked, but it was part of the job and though they hated it, they were kind of used ot it. 

They got up and ready in time to answer the door for the camera crew who began setting up as soon as they were in the hotel room. Once the cameras were rolling, Nev grabbed his phone from the bedside table and pulled up Pam's number, hitting the call button.

She answered on the second ring, her voice thick with either sleep or tears, or both.

"Hey Pam, it's Nev. Listen, we need to meet with you this morning at your place if that's okay. We did some more digging last night after we left you, and there are some things we need to go over before we figure out our next steps."

There was a pause, then a quiet, resigned "Okay. When?"

"How about in an hour? That give you enough time?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah, that's fine. I'll text you my address."

The address came through a few minutes after they hung up, and an hour later, Nev and Max found themselves in a quiet residential neighborhood, standing outside a modest brick built apartment building, possibly built sometime in the seventies.

They made their way up to the first floor to Pam's apartment. She opened the door to their knock, and they noticed she looked like she hadn't slept a wink. Her face was pale and eyes dark rimmed, her hair was pulled back in a messier bun than yesterday, in fact it could have been the bun from yesterday, but slept in. She was wearing gray sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

"Hey," she said softly, stepping aside to let them in. "Come in, sorry about the mess."

The front door opened directly into her living space, it was cozy, open-plan with a breakfast bar and two low-backed stools creating a divide. There wasn't any mess, in fact it looked like she'd stress cleaned at 3am when she couldn't sleep.

They moved a couple of steps into the space, taking in the homey feel. Soft throw blankets draped over furniture, plants dotted around, some larger ones on the floor, some on the window ledges and others hanging from above in little wicker baskets on strings. A half finished mug of tea sat on the coffee table with no steam rising, probably gone cold hours ago.

Pam gestured toward the seating area, offering them their choice between a small two seater couch or a brown suede recliner that had been handed down to her from her parents when she moved in and didn’t have much money to buy new furniture straight away. They chose the couch, settling in while Pam stayed standing, her nervous energy keeping her moving.

She worried her hands together, as she stopped and looked at the pair. "So," she started, her voice tight, "I spoke to Jim last night. After we met at the coffee shop. I had to talk to him about everything."

"Oh, yeah?" Nev's tone professionally cautious. He nodded for her to go on, leaning forward slightly and crossing his arms. "How did that go?"

Pam started pacing back and forth next to the coffee table, speaking with her hands as she worked through the story. "Well, I wanted some real answers because yesterday completely threw me, you know? So I just came right out and asked him, 'Did you lie to me? About the Myspace? About deleting it? Why would you say that if it wasn't true?' All the questions that were eating at me."

She suddenly stopped pacing, wrapping her arms around herself before continuing. "And he said that he must have been hacked or something, that someone else must have reactivated his account somehow, because he swore he hasn't used Myspace in forever. And I just..." She let out a long deep breath. "I don't know what to think. Part of me really, really wants to believe him, but there are more questions than answers. It just doesn't add up."

She suddenly slumped down onto the arm of the recliner, perched like she might spring back up at any minute.

Nev and Max gave each other a look, the kind that spoke an entire conversation in a second.

Max raised his eyebrows and puckered his lips, sucking in a breath through his teeth. "Well," he began slowly, choosing his words carefully, "your gut feeling actually kind of leads us to the research we did last night after we left the coffee shop." He nodded toward Nev, gesturing for his partner to take over.

Nev shifted forward, elbows resting on his knees, his expression gentle but serious. "So, yesterday, after we left you, we went back to our hotel and spent a few more hours investigating. We decided to send a direct message to that Myspace profile of Jim’s, the one you didn't recognize."

Pam inhaled and held her breath, waiting. She pressed the tips of her fingers against her lips like she was holding back all the questions racing through her head.

"He replied pretty quickly, actually," Nev continued, watching her carefully. "And after we explained who we were and what was happening, he agreed to video chat with us. We could do it right now, if you're ready?"

Pam stiffened. "Oh my god," she breathed, her hands immediately going to her necklace, a nervous habit she'd had since she received the necklace as a gift one Christmas when she was a teenager. "I guess we have to, right? I need to know. I need to know who I've been talking to all this time."

Her voice cracked slightly on the last few words, and both Nev and Max felt that familiar pang of sympathy they experienced every time they watched someone's life teeter on the edge. The minutes before they found out whether what they’d been told and believed, matched reality.

"You've got this," Max said quietly, offering her a supportive nod. "Whatever happens, at least you'll have answers. That's what you wanted, right?"

Pam nodded but didn't say anything, her mouth had gone too dry to speak. She licked her lips to add moisture but it didn't help.

Nev pulled out his laptop and set it up on the coffee table, opening it and angling the screen so they'd all be visible on camera. He patted the couch cushion next to him, and Pam slid off the arm of the recliner and headed to the space next to Nev, tucking her legs underneath her and pulling one of the pillows in front of her, partially to hold for comfort, mostly as a barrier between her and whatever she might see on screen.

Nev pulled up Skype and pressed call to the number they'd exchanged with Jim the night before. The dial tone filled Pam's apartment, seeming to stretch on forever. 

Then Jim's face appeared on screen.

He was the person from the photos. The same shaggy mousy brown hair, the same kind, approachable expression, the same hazel eyes that had stared out from his pictures. But seeing him in real time, breathing and moving and a very real person, made Pam's breath hitch. She swore Nev and Max would be able to hear her heart pounding.

"Oh my god," Pam whispered, her voice barely audible, followed by a nervous chuckle that sounded more like a hiccup. Her hand had found its place back at her mouth, her fingers trembling slightly. She spoke a little louder so they would definitely hear her when she said,  "It's really you. You're real."

"Hey," Jim replied, offering an awkward, lopsided smile and a little wave toward his camera. His voice was less deep than she remembered. She could count on one hand the amount of times she had spoken on the phone with Jim and it wasn’t ever for very long, but she swore his voice was usually a little deeper than that. He also had a slight rasp that suggested he might have been as nervous about this call as she was. His expression was kind, apologetic, and uncomfortable all at the same time.

Nev leaned slightly toward the laptop, taking control of the conversation. "So, Jim, I know we messaged last night and you filled us in on some of the basics. How about you bring Pam up to speed on the situation from your side?"

Jim nodded, visibly gathering his thoughts and courage. "Yeah, okay. So, hi. Properly hi, I mean. I'm Jim Halpert, I live here in Scranton, and, um..." He let out a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting down, looking somewhere down off camera, possibly at his hands or desk, anywhere but at the image of her on his screen. He reached up to rub the back of his neck before forcing himself to look back up, trying to make eye contact with Pam out of courtesy though she couldn’t possibly see what he was actually looking at. He wanted to give her the respect of looking her in the eye while he said what needed to be said. "I haven't been speaking with you. At all. That wasn't me. I'm so, so sorry."

Pam felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She managed to get out a strangled "Oh."

She could feel her face burning, heat crawling up her neck and coloring her cheeks with embarrassment, her heart breaking. Her eyes began to sting from the pressure of the tears she was failing to hold back. She blinked rapidly, she would not cry in front of 3 strangers.

"Hey, no, please don't do that," Jim said quickly. Something in his chest seemed to break a little as he watched her process the news. "Listen, I know this is awful, and I know we're complete strangers, but…how about you take my number? My real number, not whoever's been pretending to be me. We can talk about this mess, just the two of us, without cameras and a whole production team." He offered a small, genuine smile. "It might be nice to have someone who understands how weird this feels."

Pam swiped at tears that had escaped despite her best efforts. She let out a laugh, somewhere between a sob and genuine amusement at the absurdity of it all. "Yeah, that would actually be really nice. Thank you for being so kind about this. You didn't have to."

Nev chirped up, wanting to move the conversation along and let Pam have some peace. "Thanks for speaking with us today, Jim. We really appreciate you clearing things up and being so understanding about the whole situation. We'll be in touch, okay?"

"Yeah, of course. Good luck with everything," Jim said, directing his words at Pam, who managed a small smile and a wave in reply.

The telltale ‘ploink’ of Skype's disconnection sound echoed through the apartment, and suddenly Jim's face was gone, replaced by the white Skype contacts screen.

Pam felt humiliated. She immediately put her head in her hands, her shoulders hunching forward. If she could make herself disappear into the couch cushions, she would. Her brain was racing a million miles an hour, trying to piece together who the hell she'd actually been speaking to, why someone would do this to her, why her heart felt so confused right now and why she kind of missed Jim already.

Because here was the thing that made absolutely no sense: she'd just spoken to the real Jim Halpert for all of three minutes, and there was this undeniable feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t put her finger on it completely, but she realized suddenly, she hadn't felt this intensity once during all those conversations with whoever had been pretending to be Jim.

She couldn't wait to talk to the real Jim again, even if he was just trying to be nice. She knew he was just offering support, to help her through what could be, depending on how the rest of the day went, a traumatic experience. But they were both victims and it was comforting to know she'd have someone who understood.

At the very least, she hoped she might come out of this mess with a good friend. The fleeting thought “maybe more than that” flashed through her head, though she tried to push it away.

"Pam?" Max's voice broke through her thoughts, gentle but cautious.

She looked up, realizing both men had been sitting quietly, giving her space.

"This maybe feels like an appropriate time to tell you that we did some research on that cell number you gave us, the one that 'Jim' has been texting you from." Max tried carefully putting an emphasis on the name Jim.

Pam's stomach dropped. She wasn't sure how much more she could take.

"We managed to trace it and figure out who it belongs to," Nev added, his voice soft. "We reached out to them and they've agreed to meet with us this afternoon. If you're up to it...no pressure. But this would be your chance to get real answers about who's been doing this and why."

Pam nodded, her gaze dropping to where the toe of her sneaker was twisting small patterns into the carpet. She couldn't quite bring herself to look either of them in the eye, the humiliation and hurt too raw.

"I guess it's better to just get this over with," she said quietly. "Rip off the bandaid, right? I need to know who I've been pouring my heart out to for seven months. I need to look them in the eye and ask them why."