part of me worrying that viewership would be impacted if they started to think I was lying to them.
"Seems to me they need to think you got someone protecting you," he said, low enough that the mic wouldn't pick it up.
"Huck, please," I demanded, turning to look back at him, knowing there was desperation in my face, and not really even caring about my pride.
Learning that I could make money from gaming had been a saving grace in my life. I'd struggled to be able to keep a normal job. First, because of the epilepsy. Sure, they couldn't actually outwardly discriminate against me once they found out, but they sure could find other reasons to fire me and hire someone they saw as less of a liability. And then, secondly, because if it required me getting in a car to get there, it just wasn't going to happen.
It all limited my job prospects. And it would be even harder now, living outside of the city.
I needed this job, as unconventional as it was, with the strange little rules that came with it. Like coming to the camera looking decent. Like engaging with people who could sometimes be pretty cruel. Like, apparently, never letting my fanbase know that I was in a relationship.
"I'm not her man," Huck declared. "But I think you're all dickheads regardless," he said, and I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing.
Patrick: If he's not your boyfriend, why is he there?
"She's here actually. At my place," Huck explained.
"I'm having an issue with my house," I clarified. "I'm just crashing here for a few days, maybe a week, while it all gets ironed out."
ChrisAgainstHumaity: He looks at her like he's fucking her.
KitKatTalksBack: How would you know? Judging by your pic, no one has ever fucked you.
I chose to ignore their side conversation, focusing on my narrative, wanting to guide the conversation back to something tamer.
"I am repaying the favor of staying here by cooking for the household."
"She didn't come and wake me up for breakfast," Huck said, adding some more validity to my comment. "Everyone else ate it. So she owes me."
Patrick: Everyone else?
"Yeah, it is a house where a couple of my friends live," I said, knowing the term "friend" was stretching the truth a bit, but it was the easiest explanation.
KitKatTalksBack: Did you eat anything? You're looking skinny.
PizzaSlut20: All tits and ass and nothing in between. She's perfect.
UnBeLeafAble: Did you make anything good?
HallowedHallie: Hey, we learn something new everyday about our girl. She can cook. And she has really, really hot friends.
"I like your fans, Harm," Huck decided, grinning at the camera for Hallie.
"Of course you do," I shot back, shaking my head.
WheelyWheelyAwesome: Show us your tits.
There was always one in every live section, in every discussion under a video. It was the nature of the beast that was putting yourself in front of the public eye online. The incels came out in force.
"Know what's fucked about this?" Huck asked, charging on before I could ask him to please shut up. "If we were out in a bar and you said that to my friend here, I could knock a couple teeth out of your mouth," he said, sounding disappointed that he was missing that opportunity.
HallowedHallie: Oh, he's the type to defend your honor too? Swoon. Is Huck single?
"Ah, yeah," I said, finding the words left an oddly bitter taste on my tongue.
"Alright. Before the whole chat falls in love with me, I will head out," Huck said, chuckling in that way that made my stomach feel wobbly. "I am going to go and take a swim," he added, smirking as the girls were quick to send drooling emojis. "Hey, maybe I should get myself a channel," Huck said as the comments kept coming.
"Oh, for the love of God. I will make you anything you want to eat if you just please leave, so I can get back to my game," I said, exasperated.
But only I knew what I was upset about.
All the thirst toward Huck.
As if I had any right to him.
Especially after practically rejecting him.
"Did you all hear that? Anything I want. Hold her to that," Huck said, moving to stand upright.
As he lifted his hands from the armrests, his fingers grazed up my forearm in a way that seemed too deliberate to be an accident.
But it was over before I got a chance to analyze it.
And then he was out of the room, and I could hear him a floor