《My Roommate, The VTuber》


 Prelude

    I could hear him steaming from outside my room. He was in the kitchen and had what seemed to be his entire streaming setup with him. There was only not one, but TWO monitors next to the oven, along with a computer on an ironing board, a microphone that was clamped onto the countertop, a mouse and keyboard, AND a camera set up. All for one stream¨Cafter today¡¯s stream was over, he would pack it all up for next time. To be fair, all he had to do was move everything into the spare bedroom, which was only down the hall from the kitchen, but it still had to be a hassle to move all of that junk back and forth. He had been at it since like 11 AM. Thankfully I already knew this and had my breakfast (a bowl of Froot Loops, a hot pocket, and coffee) ready well before he started his stream.


    In most kitchens, this wouldn¡¯t have been a problem, but our kitchen was a bit ¡®special¡¯. Our microwave was right above our stove, which made it hard for anyone to use one while the other was in use and vice versa. He was currently cooking pancakes for his stream. Somehow he had never cooked pancakes before this¨Cthat is, if he was telling the truth to his audience.


    I was about to go¨CI had to mentally prepare myself for my upcoming shift. It wasn¡¯t going to be hard or anything¡­it¡¯s just¡­was this what I was really put on this Earth to do? What was the point of going to school and getting a degree if this was the best I could do? Was it that I was bad with networking, or was it because most employers realized how worthless a Political Science degree was, and that all it meant was that I knew how to read boring books and write boring papers on boring topics? Then again, was that most of the humanities? Maybe it had more to do with the location I was in¨Cunless I went to law school, which I didn¡¯t want to do, I would probably have to move to Washington D.C. to fully utilize my ¡®expertise¡¯, if you could call it that. With five-figures worth of student loan debt over my head, moving to one of the most expensive areas in the country was a stupid move in my opinion. Yes, I was more likely to get a job, but it would more than likely be either an unpaid internship or something that was barely above the living standards of the area. I couldn¡¯t fall back on any benefactors to supplement my journey being an errand boy for a do-nothing congressperson or niche cause. Why couldn¡¯t I have just gone to school for engineering?


    To avoid spiraling out of control, I decided to go ahead and get a move on. Walking outside of my room, I noticed that my roommate had a virtual version of himself as his computer wallpaper. I¡¯m not surprised, considering his line of work, but it still¡­


    *SLAM*


    ¡°Ahh fuck!¡±¨Cbefore I even knew it, I ran my pinky toe into the corner of the wooden cabinet next to the living room couch. The pain was so sharp that it made me lose sense for a moment. I fell to the floor in pain, groaning like I just got hit with a baseball bat. I¡¯d hit the cabinet so hard that the lamp on the table tipped over as well, falling onto the carpet below. Thankfully it didn¡¯t shatter, or even turn off. After the sensation started to dull, I realized that I potentially made a huge gaffe¡­


    Really bad drawing of our living room and kitchen. The dresser I ran my foot into is more to the right than in the drawing, but I¡¯m too lazy to fix it. Not drawn to scale. Kitchen is extended to be twice as long as our dining room is seldom used and not relevant.


    Looking back startled, my roommate Michael said ¡°Hold on guys, I need to go to the toilet real quick.¡± Known more famously online as ¡®Francis Fukuyama¡¯ (no relation¡­really, no relation. He doesn¡¯t know about the other guy. Apparently his ¡®antis¡¯ labeling his surging popularity ¡®The End of VTubing¡¯ was lost upon him for months. The VTubing community also took Fukuyama¡¯s famous thesis at face value.)¨Ca ¡®Virtual YouTuber¡¯ who was streaming himself making ¡®Valentine Pancakes¡¯. If you counted everyone currently in his chat as ¡®in the room¡¯ with us, there were thousands who heard my outburst. I was the only one who knew him by ¡®Michael¡¯ though. I had enough sense to know that anything from real life was a no-go on his streams. It was the norm for VTuber streams at his level. He had probably disclosed to his chat that he had gotten a new roommate by now, but my existence might as well have been a phantom. An apparition. At least, it was, until my cry of pain leaked through his microphone into the virtual world.


    <hr>


    Michael¡¯s¨CI mean, Francis¡¯s design, all things considered, was fairly basic. His model was a standard ¡®bishie boy¡¯. Tall, slender, having semi-long straight black hair, and an acutely pointy chin. Just like in your shoujo anime and manga.


    His outfit was rather dapper, meant to imply that he was a gentleman. A three-piece suit that was supposed to look classy and fancy. In my eyes, he looked more like a magician than a ¡®gentleman¡¯. More like a hitman than a dream man. He seemed to not really put that much effort into playing the role too. No dry shaken martinis, just tea stirred. He was just himself¨Ca reclusive gamer.


    I thought that him not ever sticking to the bit would be a problem, but it turns out that most VTubers don¡¯t. Sometimes their ¡®persona¡¯ could be an extension of their real-life personality, but in Michael¡¯s case, Francis was really only a face-tuned version of himself. Other than occasionally going a few days without shaving, Michael was also tall, skinny, and had straight black hair. He kept his pretty short though. Not as luscious as well.


    As for his content, he mostly did ¡®variety streams¡¯, which meant that almost no stream was like the one before. His weekly schedule was functionally the same each week¨Che streamed MOBAs, whatever ¡®streamer-bait¡¯ game was hot at the time, ¡®zatsudan¡¯ (live-chatting with viewers), and the occasional ¡®hand cam¡¯ stream. More irregularly he did cooking streams, like the one he was doing now. He also did ASMR streams. You can figure out what that entails for yourself.


    As his roommate, I didn¡¯t really see the appeal of watching him play games¨Che could be pretty funny, but watching your roommate¡¯s stream wasn¡¯t all that appealing to me. I¡¯m sure you understand. Not like he needed the support either, since he cracked into the four-figures easily every time he streamed. I didn¡¯t even have to subscribe to him as moral support.


    <hr>


    I¡¯d only moved into the house a month and some change prior. Desperate to get out of my mother¡¯s place, I jumped at the first vacancy out there. While my new job at Hobby Lobby paid well, my choices of where to rent were quite limited. You would think that with all of the construction going on, rent would be relatively low. Or at least be stabilized. Guess that¡¯s my fault for trying to use conventional logic when it came to the housing market. Rent from where I was living at was at average about $1200 a month¨Cridiculous considering that Greenville was only a mid-size city. I heard that rent in Chicago was lower, and that place actually probably had non-retail employers that would hire me. Maybe I should¡¯ve moved there instead¡­too much effort.


    I was about to lose all hope when I found this place. It was the best deal around. $600 a month is a steal these days! I get my own master bedroom, my own bathroom, and my own office! Not to mention that it was on a pretty sizable plot of land. Big enough to host any party you wanted to, but not too large. It even came with all of the furnishings. The landlord even bought a new mattress for the bed I was going to be sleeping on¡­she was a bit eccentric, going on about how often I should wash the sheets and what detergent to use. She was way better than the stereotypical shitty landlords that most people seem to have, even if she was rather peculiar with how she did things.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    There was one caveat to where my domain was though...it was in the middle of nowhere.


    Well, not exactly in the middle of nowhere, but it¡¯s pretty out there. To put it in one way¨Cthe nearest restaurant is the gas station a mile away. Anyway, it took about fifteen minutes to get to the nearest town, which was about the same time it took me to get to work. The drive was roughly the same every time, although there were occasional tractors that got in the way. It made for a great excuse whenever I was late for work. Early morning driving can be great if there¡¯s no fog around. Driving around at night was a different story. You always had to watch out for deer. Not that I¡¯ve ever hit one, but there have been close calls.


    Work was where I was headed. It was 2:30 and my shift started at 3. I was leaving a bit early, but I knew with Michael¡¯s cooking stream I might need to get out of there when I have the time.


    You see, the way out was by the kitchen. The laundry room, where the back door was, was right next to the stove Michael was using to make his pancakes. I could¡¯ve used the other door, but that would¡¯ve meant that I would have to walk through the grass. Considering that it rained just this morning, I would get my shoes dirty if I walked through the grass to my car. I hated to do it, but I had to interrupt Michael¡¯s stream to get through.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time I had to do this. Two weeks ago, I had to ¡®pause¡¯ his stream to get to work. He was only using the microwave to test every Hot Pocket they had on sale at Kroger, so it wasn¡¯t that big of a deal to squeeze by. This time it would be more difficult though. Michael had told me that he had a plan for cases like this. He would simply pause the stream. It really wasn¡¯t a big deal to him apparently. I guess he saw it as an opportunity to take a breather.


    That was the way it was supposed to go, but that was before I bashed my toe at the most inopportune time¡­


    <hr>


    ¡°Jesus Christ man, are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Ahhhh¡­I think so¡­¡±


    I was looking down at my pinky toe, now lying bare on the carpet. You would think that a sock would shield toes from this sort of pain, but apparently not. To be fair, my pinky toe did hit the dresser at full speed. From the blood that was forming around my toe, it was apparent that I would need a bandaid. It would only be sanitary, plus my sock was bloody enough as it is.


    We had all of our medical supplies in the kitchen, away from where Michael¡¯s streaming stuff was set up. I hobbled there to get the bandaid my pinky toe sorely needed. I found it rather odd how calm Michael seemed to be considering I barged in and interrupted it a bit rudely.


    ¡°Is it really alright?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s alright?¡±


    ¡°Your stream.¡±


    ¡°Oh, that.¡± He looked back at the stove. From the fact that nothing was sizzling, I guess his stream was about to wind down. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry about that¡­¡±


    ¡°Sure, the chat heard you, but just barely. You scared the living daylights out of me, but my chat only heard you from a distance. I¡¯ve yelled from that distance at mics on stream multiple times.¡°


    ¡°These mics,¡± Michael said while pointing to a huge ass microphone that was clamped to the counter ¡°drown out background noise very well. If anything, all this confirmed that you existed.¡±


    He did make a good point. It wasn¡¯t like his audience had never heard of me before. The only thing that was added was a voice¨Calbeit a very muffled one, according to him. None of his ¡®fujis¡¯ (what his ¡®more enthusiastic¡¯ fans call themselves) had found any of my social media, and the Venn diagram of ¡®Francis Fukuyama Watchers¡¯ and ¡®Hobby Lobby Shoppers¡¯ was more than likely two separate circles. I see his fans as more of Jo-Ann Fabric¡¯s shoppers. Or perhaps Michael¡¯s. Now that I think about it, it would be pretty funny if they were. Either way, according to Michael, it would be near impossible to pin a voice to a face from what I let slip. That¡¯s good because it¡¯s in our best interest to not reveal who we are on a stream being watched by thousands of people. My identity being revealed would only lead to Michael¡¯s also being revealed, and from what I¡¯ve read about VTubers, concealing your identity is vital in most cases. He could be fired for a mistake like this if it caught back up to bite him. If he was an ¡®indie VTuber¡¯, then this wouldn¡¯t matter so much, but Michael was a big-league corporate VTuber. He was part of ¡®AnyClover¡¯, which was one of the biggest ¡®VTuber Agencies¡¯ on the internet. They had enough Virtual YouTubers on their roster to field a football team. Michael was a relatively newer addition, debuting around a year and a half ago. He¡¯d been a VTuber under a different name before, but his legal name was never disclosed. Needless to say, his confidentiality was an important part of his employment.


    I was done taking care of my throbbing toe. I rubbed alcohol on it and wrapped like three bandaids around it just to make sure no more blood leaked out. I went ahead and put my shoes on. The kitchen and the laundry room shared the same linoleum floor, which made it less gross to put them on while still in the house as compared to carpet. I was never aware of how gross many people found wearing outside shoes indoors until I started watching anime. After the pain I experienced, I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll take my shoes off ever again. I didn¡¯t care how much dirt and germs I dragged throughout the house. My little toe can¡¯t handle much more pain.


    ¡°All right, I got everything sorted. I¡¯ll go and let you continue your stream.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s really not a big deal¡­I¡¯ve been up here non-stop for about four hours now. I could use the breather.¡±


    Yeah, you¡¯ve been at it since like 11. ¡°Well I¡¯m glad I could be in service then. I bet wearing those gloves are a pain in the ass to cook in.¡± Michael had to wear gloves whenever he did a stream that involved his hands. These were called ¡®handcam¡¯ streams. Apparently, it¡¯s sort of an unwritten rule for VTubers for them to never show their hands. I guess for women VTubers, if they had intricate nail designs, they could accidentally dox themselves if they were revealed on stream¡­well, technically the same could be said for men as well. That issue didn¡¯t matter to Michael though, considering he had ¡®regular¡¯ nails. His model had roughly the same skin tone as him, so it wouldn¡¯t break that much immersion. Nonetheless, he wore gloves every time he showed his hands. Better safe than sorry I guess. He temporarily took off his gloves, his hands looking like they just got out of a sauna.


    ¡°Making those pancakes has really worn you out huh.¡± I remarked.


    He looked back at his creations, ¡°All I can say is that making a heart-shaped pancake is harder than you think it is.¡±


    ¡®Not really, you just suck at cooking¡¯ is what I wanted to say, but I held my tongue. ¡°Still don¡¯t see how that takes three hours'' worth of cooking though.¡± Okay, I barely held it.


    ¡°Well¡­I¡¯ve been talking with chat for the last hour. The superchats won¡¯t stop coming in!¡±


    ¡°Well aren¡¯t you lucky.¡± I can¡¯t lie, I was envious. He probably made as much in the last hour as I made in a work week.


    ¡°What can I say? The people love me and my pancakes.¡±


    That was Michael¡¯s charm. He could be serious one moment, but then lighthearted the next. I¡¯d say that his ability to not take himself seriously is what made him such a good streamer and VTuber. It also helped that he was typically quick on the draw to drop a joke, which kept the chat engaged. There was also the fact that he was willing to ASMR streams, which thankfully took place in his room, far enough away from me to hear any of it. His ¡®fujis¡¯ loved it, but I didn¡¯t personally want to hear my roommate roleplay as my boyfriend.


    Being a ¡®nerd¡¯ myself, I already knew what a VTuber was before I moved in with Michael. I never was really interested in them, but living with one has made me start to watch some clips from YouTube. Many of his fellow VTubers at AnyClover are actually quite funny. Michael can be hilarious himself, but considering I live with the guy I didn¡¯t really watch his content. I got it straight from the tap. I¡¯m not that into streamers in the first place, but I understand why people like VTubers.


    Altogether, I didn¡¯t regret moving out at all. Sure, Michael can be loud as hell sometimes. That¡¯s the nature of VTubers. But he¡¯s considerate enough to keep it down at night. His usual streaming room is across the house anyway, so it would take a banshee scream to wake me up if I was sleeping. And these types of streams he does where he takes up half the kitchen is only a once or twice-a-month thing at most. It¡¯s not like I cook most of the food I eat anyway. I could deal with an occasional roadblock if it meant having blazing-fast internet and cheap rent.


    ¡°...Are you gonna go? I do need to come back from the ¡®toilet¡¯ soon or they¡¯re going to think I fell in.¡± He had been away for about ten minutes at this point. Chat probably assumed he got lost on the way back.


    ¡°Oh shit, sorry yeah. I¡¯m going.¡± I didn¡¯t want to move, but I had to go eventually.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll save the pancakes that aren¡¯t eaten for you.¡± He pointed at the tupperware bowl filled with the pancakes he already made. It was about filled to the brim. He had used a lot of pancake batter, which left a huge mess. I sure hope he was going to clean up after this¨CI assumed he would, but this was the first time I ever saw him do a stream like this. If Miss Landlord saw her kitchen in this state, then she would probably flip out and clean the whole place in frustration.


    ¡°Sounds great.¡± I said as I finally got off the counter and walked towards the door.


    I still had twenty minutes to go until I had to be at work, and twenty-six minutes before I had to clock in, so I wasn¡¯t in a hurry. I guess Michael had some more superchats to read though. He had only made a few good heart-shaped pancakes, with his other attempts resembling something more of a kidney bean. Either way, he only burnt half of them. Nothing butter and syrup can¡¯t fix. He made enough pancakes to feed a whole extended family¨CI already knew that I was gonna probably be eating breakfast for dinner tonight. I was going to be home at midnight and probably staying up for a few more hours¨CI¡¯ll be honest, I can¡¯t hide it¨CI was excited at the prospect of having some late-night pancakes. So excited that it almost made me forget that today is Valentine¡¯s Day.

 The One Chip Chllenge

    [¡°hey can you get the mail ? i got my hands full rn¡±]


    [¡°Will do¡±]


    I knew Michael was just being lazy, but getting the mail wasn¡¯t a big deal to me. I usually got it anyway. That being said, Michael texting me about it got me to get up and go outside. I also needed to know if I had mail as well. It was around 1 PM, and I had the day off work and nothing better to do. Formula 1 didn¡¯t start for a few more weeks, so I had no qualifying to watch today. There was an Xfinity NASCAR race on later¨Cthe NASCAR season was ¡®officially¡¯ starting this week, with the Daytona 500 coming on tomorrow. The Xfinity series was like the tier below the main NASCAR Cup series. The AAA league, for those familiar with the MLB. That race didn¡¯t start for another four hours though. I didn¡¯t feel like watching anime, even though I wasn¡¯t caught up with currently airing anime by any stretch of the imagination. I could go to the gym, but I¡¯m still reeling from slamming my toe into furniture last Tuesday¡­that was my excuse for now. The gym was by work, so it made it easy to go after I clocked out, but other than that, it was a bit silly to drive that far just to pump some iron.


    The walk outside to the mailbox took about a minute. It wasn¡¯t that bad considering I didn¡¯t have to walk in the grass any. The driveway was in good condition. There were a few cracks, but nothing that I considered an eyesore. The road next to our place was¡­it was something else. It was a two-way road that was barely two lanes long, if that. It wasn¡¯t rarely used other by those who also lived here, and the occasional person who got lost. It didn¡¯t have any potholes thankfully, but it had the light-grey hue of a road that hadn¡¯t been repaved in decades. The speed limit being twenty-five miles per hour helped with it staying in acceptable condition¨Calong with big-rigs never taking the road. I wouldn¡¯t want to speed down a narrow road like that anyway.


    There wasn¡¯t much in the mailbox¨Cat least for me. All I had was another credit card offer. I get like two of those a week. They¡¯re so annoying. I don¡¯t know why I get so many, especially considering I¡¯ve only had one credit card ever. You¡¯d think they would give up by now. Michael on the other hand had a small package from Amazon, which was shoved in between more junk mail. Michael¡¯s package was extremely light, with something bouncing around inside. It must have been related to one of his streams considering the urgency he had when asking me to get it instead of waiting until he was free to go outside.


    It was quite a beautiful day. While it was still technically Winter, the layer of warmth that the sun was providing was a welcome gift. After months of it being too cold, the weather was in a short window where it was ¡®just right¡¯. The grass and the trees had a vibrant glow on them, the trees growing their fur back. It was almost beautiful enough to want to spend some time out there. Almost.


    Heading back inside, I threw all of the junk mail on the kitchen counter. I was gonna throw all of it away, but I liked to see where the junk was from in the first place. I found it cathartic to rip up envelopes and slips of paper into pieces. It¡¯s fun.


    But first, I had to give Michael his package.


    <hr>


    Outside of Michael¡¯s room, I knocked on his door and said ¡°Hey, I got your package¡±.


    ¡°Come in.¡± Michael said somewhat reluctantly. Opening his door, I peeped in. Inside, Michael was on his bed, staring at the ceiling.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re definitely busy.¡±


    Michael, barely leaning left to look at me, chuckled and said ¡°Wow, can a guy take a break every once in a while?¡±


    I sighed back. I mean, I was the one who usually got the mail anyway. Today was no different than other days, other than me personally delivering it to Michael¡¯s room instead of leaving it on the kitchen counter. Looking at his setup, it looked like he had spent some time setting something up by the fact that his chair wasn¡¯t tucked in and that there was a box all ripped up on his desk. I couldn¡¯t tell the difference from normal however. ¡°...so, what were you setting up?¡±


    ¡°A new handcam. It¡¯s been in my storage for quite some time now. It¡¯s supposed to be way better quality than the one I was using before, but it¡¯s been a real pain to set up.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess¡­the driver didn¡¯t want to work.¡± I¡¯ve had issues with webcams before. I¡¯m sure everyone has. I don¡¯t know what it was about them that made them finicky, but they were nonetheless. You would think that an expensive webcam like the one Michael got wouldn¡¯t have these issues. By the way was Michael nodding, I was right on the money.


    As if he was summoned, Michael hopped out of his bed and into his computer chair. Guess he was done with his break. He looked at my hand and said ¡°Oh yeah, toss me that package.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing¡± I replied. Honestly, I forgot all about his package since it was so light. Whatever Michael had gotten couldn¡¯t be that fragile considering he motioned me to throw it like a fastball. I declined to be that careless with other people¡¯s stuff, only lightly tossing it to him. Once he caught it, he instantly started to open the package. He slid out a small coffin-shaped box onto his desk. All I could see from this distance is that the box had a skull yelling on the front of it. I immediately knew what it was¨Can ¡®One Chip Challenge¡¯ box.


    The One Chip Challenge was exactly what it sounded like¡ªa challenge where you eat the world¡¯s hottest tortilla chip. The chip was plastered with Carolina Reaper peppers, which from my experience was so powerful that even sniffing it made your nose run.


    My rough drawing of the box. As you can see, it roughly resembled a tombstone, with a red skull on the front, and a blue tongue, which the chip was supposed to turn your tongue into. Guess that was the gimmick for this year¡­or technically last year I guess.


    Looking at the box, his mood instantly improved, saying ¡°Awesome, now everything is set up for the stream.¡±


    Hold on. What?


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re eating that today?¡±


    I had to check to see if I wasn¡¯t making things up.


    ¡°Yep.¡± he replied nonchalantly.


    ¡°Are you sure? That¡¯s one strong chip.¡± The Carolina Reaper pepper is the hottest in the world if I recall correctly.


    ¡°I¡¯m very sure.¡± He wasn¡¯t flubbing or backing down in any way.


    ¡°I¡¯m just telling you right now, I once had a friend at university do the challenge. He only lasted two minutes and was bedridden for the next day.¡± It was true¨Che did it over Discord, and after that, he didn¡¯t go on his computer for a full day.


    ¡°No offense to your friend, but I¡¯m one hundred percent sure I¡¯m more prepared than he will ever be.¡± I had no idea where the sudden burst of confidence was coming from. Was he trying to fake it until he made it? Did he think that ¡®confidence was key¡¯ when it came to eating hot things? Who knows, but my warnings were not getting to him.


    ¡°Yeah whatever man, have you ever even seen anyone else do this?¡±


    ¡°No. Don¡¯t see why I would need to. Besides, I¡¯ve been eating spicy food all of my life. I¡¯m not your friend.¡± Yeah, you¡¯re being a total fucking moron right now. ¡°By the way¨Cwhat do you mean by ¡®at university¡¯? Are you British?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I mean, Clemson is a University, not a College. ¡°Anyways, that¡¯s not the point¡­you know what? I don¡¯t care. Go ahead. Eat it.¡± His arrogance kinda annoyed me. Even if it was his own funeral. ¡°In fact, if you want. I¡¯ll be in the room while you stream it. Just so you can have ¡®proof¡¯ that you actually ate the thing.¡±


    Michael suddenly perked up, ¡°You know what? That¡¯s actually a good idea¡­are you sure you can spare the time to watch me ace this challenge?¡±


    ¡°Well, I mean I got nothing better to do.¡± I really didn¡¯t. The Xfinity race would be going on, but that wasn¡¯t that important for me to watch.


    ¡°Great! The stream is starting at 6, but you can wait until about 6:30 to come.¡± I¡¯d get to catch the first half or so of the race, depending on how many cautions there were.


    ¡°Cool, I¡¯ll be here then. Do you want me to bring what¡¯s left of the milk in the fridge with me?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t see why I would need any. I already have my water right here, and something a little extra in case the challenge goes wrong. Besides, you know that I don¡¯t like milk.¡± No, I don¡¯t. I¡¯m not your mother man.


    I started to say something to the effect of ¡®you know water isn¡¯t gonna help you¡¯, but then I realized¨Cthis could be ¡®peak content¡¯. No, this WILL be peak content.


    ¡°¡­Okay. I¡¯ll be around then.¡±


    My annoyance at Michael¡¯s flippancy toward the chip subsided after thinking about the idea of him literally eating his words later on. Of course, there was also the possibility that he could actually take on the challenge and ¡®pass¡¯ it. I mean, it was true that he did eat spicy food often. Well, at least he ordered it when he got DoorDash. Nothing on the level of the Carolina Reaper though. I still didn¡¯t really know what the ¡®challenge¡¯ was, truth be told. All I knew was that when my friend took the challenge, he lasted about two minutes before he gave. He drank about half a gallon of milk, which did nothing to help him for the better part of an hour. After that, he was rendered asunder, not wanting to move from his bed. The ¡®side effects¡¯ of the chip, according to him, included the worst stomachache of his life and a loss of appetite. I felt bad for him, but it was funny seeing his face go from white to bright red in a matter of thirty seconds. Michael¡¯s viewers wouldn¡¯t have the pleasure of seeing this, due to the nature of VTubing, but I would have a front-row seat. All they would get is the face his model freezes on when he gives. I knew in the back of my mind that he was going to regret ever doing this after it was over, but also knew that the chat would love it. Plus, me being there would increase the ¡®validity¡¯ of the challenge. The chat already knew of my existence due to my outburst a few days ago. He technically couldn¡¯t prove he ate it with just a handcam, but me being a witness to it added an extra layer of plausibility. Truth be told, if the challenge went anywhere as bad as when my friend did it, the chat would know that Michael wasn¡¯t faking the challenge. You can¡¯t fake that pain.


    <hr>


    I spent most of my free time pondering the events that were going to go down later. While Michael¡¯s streams usually started right at the beginning of the hour, it tended to take him a while to get to the main event. He usually spent some time talking to his viewers before he got started¡ªup towards to an hour for some streams! Some would call this stalling, but in reality, I understood why he spent so much time talking to his chat. Without them, he wouldn¡¯t be able to do this for a living. If the superchats kept coming in, then there was no reason for him to stop. There had to be fans who wanted him to shut up and get the show on the road, but they weren¡¯t loud enough for him to care. I would be in that minority if I was watching. Anyways, the thirty-minute time limit he gave himself would hopefully give him enough time to talk to his fans and get ¡®prepared¡¯ for today¡¯s stream.


    One of the ways I managed to drain the five-hour wait was to go on social media. I¡¯ve never been a huge fan of it per se, mostly using it for news and to talk to close friends, but lately I¡¯ve been finding myself lurking on there more. Mostly it was due to the fascination I had with Michael¡¯s following. Along with being extremely talkative to his fans in the chat (Apparently, streams that were dedicated to conversing with the chat were some of the most popular out there. While it was questionable if they would see your message or superchat while you were playing a game, it was without question that they would see it if you were doing a zatsudan.), he also spends a good amount of time on Twitter posting about his daily life and chatting with his fellow VTubers and fans. There was a little bit of embellishment on the part of Michael when it came to posting about what he did outside of streaming, but nothing that was an outright lie.


    I was on there looking to see if Michael had posted anything about today¡¯s stream. The last post he made, from this morning, was talking about the ¡®special surprise¡¯ he had in store for tonight¡¯s stream. The way he was hyping his ¡®surprise¡¯ made me wonder if he actually did know how powerful the chip was. Then again, considering that he didn¡¯t even want me to prepare him some milk, he was still showing a massive amount of arrogance that was going to bite him in the ass a few hours from now. It also made me wonder: What would he have done if his chip didn¡¯t arrive today? Was Michael mastering the concept of ¡®just-in-time content¡¯? That was highly doubtful, considering that relying on the United States Postal Service being on time would be a world-class bozo decision. But, one thing I learned quickly, is that you never know with streamers. Part of me just wished that he would tell his fans what he was doing, but I knew that would majorly spoil the fun for him when he realizes the chip''s ¡®power¡¯. Other than that, he was retweeting fanart of Francis, his model¨Cmost VTubers do this, but Michael has had a massive influx of fanart ever since last week. Apparently, a lot of fanartists have been drawing his model with ¡®Roomie-chan¡¯, which was me. What they were doing¡­I won¡¯t elaborate. VTubers having roommates wasn¡¯t a new thing, but I¡¯m guessing this was the first time ¡®Roomie-chan¡¯ had a speaking part in a stream. While I originally thought that it would be kind of creepy to see myself drawn, in practice, it was hilarious, since ¡®Roomie-chan¡¯ didn¡¯t look anything like me. First off, I do not have straight blonde hair. Second off, I¡¯m not ¡®190 centimeters¡¯ tall. I think that¡¯s like 6¡¯6¡±. If I was that tall, I would be hooping right now instead of planning my day around seeing my roommate eat shit due to his hubris. ¡®Roomie-chan¡¯ was so different from me that I didn¡¯t feel any discomfort seeing what was basically my likeness. It was basically a Jon Dowd situation. They made me look like Leon Kennedy. It was funny how his fans so quickly came to a consensus about what they thought I looked like. It was a severe case of wishful thinking on their part. I didn¡¯t mind, because it meant that I was pretty much able to stay anonymous. It also confirmed that I haven¡¯t been spotted at work yet. Michael is pretty secretive about saying where he¡¯s located. Most streamers are. Either way, I didn¡¯t blow his or my cover when I had my ¡®yabai¡¯ moment a few days ago.


    If he was also trying to conceal the fact that I would make a cameo later, he was doing a poor job. Most fans probably assumed that my appearance was the surprise at this point. Considering my first appearance was only a few days ago, it wouldn¡¯t be that much of a ¡®surprise¡¯. More of ¡®cashing in¡¯ than ¡®selling out¡¯. I¡¯d like to see someone try to call a VTuber a sell-out.


    Pondering this, I went to the kitchen to grab a quick snack¨Cit was around 3 PM. I should just eat lunch. I was too lazy to expend the energy needed to heat something up, however.


    Going to the fridge, I grabbed the carton of milk for the bowl of cereal I was going to make. In the pantry, we had Raisin Bran Crunch and Froot Loops. Today I felt more like Raisin Bran. Looking at the gallon in my hand, I noticed that there was less left than I originally thought. After pouring the amount of milk necessary for my cereal, there was only enough in there for about one or two more cups of coffee. This usually wasn¡¯t really a problem, considering that Michael didn¡¯t drink milk, but considering the topic of today¡¯s stream, this might end up being a predicament. Well, a predicament only in my eyes, since Michael wouldn¡¯t ¡®need¡¯ it, or even want it. I was going to go by Kroger after work tomorrow anyway, so it wasn¡¯t really a huge issue. He¡¯s more than old enough to make his own decisions. It¡¯s his own funeral.


    <hr>


    After eating my Raisin Bran, I checked Twitter once more. I saw that Michael finally made the announcement that ¡®Roomie-chan¡¯ was going to make an appearance. I figured it was a bit obvious at this point anyway, but I knew confirmation was always nice. It wasn¡¯t like I was going to have any other role than just being there.


    While lying in bed, I thought about ways I could contribute to the stream without having a second yabai moment. As far as I know, there wasn¡¯t a precedent for this, so I would have to get creative. This should be Michael¡¯s job, I knew, but considering he just announced I was going to be on, I assumed he didn¡¯t have any plans for me.


    After a while, I came up with an idea.


    I could write notes and show it to the chat through Michael¡¯s handcam. That way, I could talk without actually talking. I didn¡¯t have the best handwriting, but it wasn¡¯t like I was going to write a thesis on sticky notes. There was a zip-lock bag full of medical gloves in the kitchen, so I could wear those as well so I didn¡¯t reveal my hand in the flesh. God forbid if any of Michael¡¯s fans saw my pale fingers. The gloves were blue, which would differentiate me from Michael and the black gloves he wore.


    After my short brainstorming session, I sent Michael my idea for tonight''s stream. About two minutes later, I got a response that was just the thumbs-up emoji. He must be playing something if that¡¯s all he¡¯s sending me. It annoyed me that he didn¡¯t even send me a ¡®sure¡¯ or even a ¡®that sounds good¡¯, but I wasn¡¯t going to badger him more. It was his stream anyway. If he had any better ideas he could bring them up to me in the meantime.


    Laying on my bed, I made an executive decision to take a nap¨CI know it¡¯s bad to sleep right after eating a meal, but I had nothing else better to do for the next two and a half hours. Thankfully (or unthankfully, since this nap is likely to mess up my sleep schedule at least a bit), I fell asleep right as soon as my head hit my pillow.


    <hr>


    Waking up at 5:30, I still had some time to kill before Michael attempted the One Chip Challenge. After turning on the Xfinity race, I decided to go on the Paqui¡¯s (the company that makes the chip) website on my phone.


    Looking at the ¡®#onechipchallenge¡¯ tab, I watched a video promoting the challenge. As expected, most of the thirty-second advertisement was people grimacing after eating the chip. I¡¯m sure most of you have already heard of the One Chip Challenge, but I¡¯ll sum it up for those who haven¡¯t. The chip of the One Chip Challenge was of the large tortilla variety¨Cit is filled with Carolina Reaper Pepper and Scorpion Pepper, both some of the hottest peppers in the world. This year, the catch was that the chip made your tongue turn blue¨Csomething Michael couldn¡¯t show anyone but me. The actual ¡®challenge¡¯ was to see how long one could last without eating or drinking anything for relief. My friend made it about two minutes before he broke and gulped down a whole glass of milk. According to the Paqui website, that meant he was ¡®powerless¡¯. If he had survived for eight minutes more, then he would be ¡®powerful¡¯. For thirty minutes, he would be ¡®supercharged¡¯. And if he was somehow able to last a full hour, he would be declared ¡®invincible¡¯. I haven¡¯t ever tried the challenge, and I don¡¯t have any plans to after seeing the pain my friend endured. I don¡¯t think anyone had ever lasted an hour¨Cif they did, then they weren¡¯t showing it on here. Paqui also did sell ¡®regular¡¯ spicy chips¨Csomething that may be worth trying, unlike the chip Michael would be eating later. If they put as much effort into the taste as they do to inflicting damage, then their chips have to be pretty good.


    Checking back on Twitter, Michael had tweeted out a link to today¡¯s stream. Most VTubers, and especially ones affiliated with large corporations like Michael, had weekly schedules that they stuck to by any means necessary. Having to postpone or delay a stream wouldn¡¯t make you persona non grata, but it would give viewers an opportunity to watch someone else. The number one objective of every VTuber, hell, every streamer, was to keep eyes on them. That meant that there were no days off for most VTubers who stream for a living. If you weren¡¯t streaming that day, you were more than likely making preparations for future streams¨Cor in Michael¡¯s case, having meetings with management or appearing on other VTuber streams. Michael had always had a weekly schedule up¨Cthis schedule allowed his fans to know in advance when and what he was streaming. The fact that people out there were scheduling their day partially around you streaming had to be a weird feeling, but I¡¯m sure Michael was used to it by now.


    Funnily enough, if you checked the Twitter accounts of his coworkers, their schedules and his combined for an almost 24/7 nonstop loop of content. I don¡¯t think anybody does that though. Many VTuber fans tended to have a favorite (who they call their ¡®oshi¡¯), and only rarely watched other VTubers. To be fair to them, there was only so much time one had to watch streams. Work, school, and life in general would get in the way. If you looked deeper, there were fans that seemed like they had seven VTubers that were their ¡®oshis¡¯. At that point, you either have them on all the time, which they very well could. Michael and the other VTubers at AnyClover often collaborated, creating a sense of community that expanded out to their fanbases and a cohesive ecosystem of ¡®AnyClover¡¯. Even if you didn¡¯t watch a certain VTuber, you would most likely know something about them if they collabed with your ¡®oshi¡¯. AnyClover has ten current members in its English branch, Michael being one of them. I haven¡¯t had the opportunity to meet any of the other nine yet, but they all seemed to be nice people. At least going by the interactions I saw Michael have with them on Twitter.


    Clicking the link in Michael¡¯s tweet led to the ¡®waiting room¡¯ for today¡¯s stream. The surprise still wasn¡¯t revealed, with the thumbnail being a throwaway one that I¡¯ve seen him use before. There were already over one hundred people in here, even with the stream not starting for another fifteen minutes. Most of them probably had the stream open while doing something else, but there were also people in the chat talking to each other. It was strange how I was now actively playing a part to a role in this community now. I¡¯ve never participated in his chat, even as a random bystander. I never considered getting a membership to his channel. I already knew what he did for those ¡®member streams¡¯. He mostly did movie watchalongs and zatsudans and all of that. I¡¯m not that interested in that when I could do the same thing with him in real life.


    Funnily enough, I got gifted a membership to one of Michael¡¯s genmates about two weeks ago. It was one of his female coworkers, named ¡®Violet Bridgewater¡¯. She was streaming RollerCoaster Tycoon 3, which is a dear game from my childhood. Although I only watched for only about twenty minutes, I was one of ten lucky people to get gifted a sub during that time. I felt bad for not saying ¡®Thank you¡¯ in chat, but I didn¡¯t know it was proper etiquette at the time. It was a fun stream, that being said I haven¡¯t tuned in since. From her streaming history, it seems that she¡¯s more into card and fighting games, both genres that I don¡¯t know that much about. She also seemed to stream ¡®classic games¡¯ from time to time. By ¡®classic¡¯, I mean PlayStation 2 games. I do hope she streams more RollerCoaster Tycoon 3 soon.


    I subscribed to her and all of Michael¡¯s other streamer friends in the AnyClover EN branch. If anything else, I could know what he was doing if I also kept tabs on the other members, as it seemed that they all hung out with each other mostly off stream as well. Off-stream, I had no idea how close of friends they were. All I knew was that here was no drama within the group¨Cat least not that I heard of. Michael occasionally had some shit to say about someone he knew, but never about anyone in AnyClover. The funny part is that when he did talk to me about another VTuber in his group, he always referred to them by their VTuber name¨Cnever by their birth name or what they went by outside of VTubing. It was a weird dichotomy, since I only really knew him as ¡®Michael¡¯, while everyone else knew him as ¡®Francis¡¯. Of course, I assumed that his coworkers knew his actual name and vice versa¨Cit was just easier to refer to each other as what they went by on-stream.


    I closed out of the stream since I had no intention of watching it¨Cwhy would I have it up if I was going to be on there? There was only one other AnyClover member on¨Cthey were streaming some mobile game that I had no interest in learning about. At first, it was surprising that they were the only ones out of all ten currently streaming, considering it was the weekend and around prime time on the East Coast. However, the more I learned about VTuber culture, the more it made sense. Michael has told me that they have a significant amount of fans in Asia, especially in Southeast Asia. A lot of this, according to him, was due to many members having roots in that region. Some VTubers even did streams in other languages (Chinese, Japanese, Tagalog (which recently I learned ISN¡¯T pronounced ¡®tag-along¡¯. My bad.), etc.), which further endeared them to fans from that country. Needless to say, the Virtual YouTubers of AnyClover had an international audience. In that way, prime time could be any time of the day.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Looking at the clock, it was around six¨Cthe start time for Michael¡¯s stream. I could go in there right now, but it would be very early to do so. He still had to talk to his chat¨Cwell, technically he didn¡¯t have to, but it was his style to do so. Especially with the number of superchats and subscriptions that flooded in at the beginning of a stream, it would be rude not to thank those who support you. The Xfinity race, which was called Beef. It¡¯s What¡¯s For Dinner 300 funnily enough, was going well for drivers at this point. A ¡®big one¡¯ hadn¡¯t happened yet, and the racing was orderly enough to where I pondered if ¡°It¡¯s What¡¯s¡± was the proper pronunciation. Think about it¨C¡±It is what is for dinner¡±¨Csounding it out like that, it sounds awkward. Is there really a need for a second ¡®is¡¯? Personally, I thought ¡°Its What¡¯s For Dinner¡± would be more grammatically correct. ¡°Its what is for dinner¡± rolls off my tongue better. Then again, I¡¯m not an English major, and English has very stupid rules for stuff like this. I¡¯m sure the Beef Lobby would have known if it was grammatically incorrect before rolling it out how many years ago at this point. Grammatically correct or not, the fact that I was thinking about it meant that the marketing was working. That being said, the stereotypical person who watched NASCAR was probably already a heavy beef eater, so it was really an exercise in branding rather than trying to enter an unknown market as far as I see it. Like Gatorade sponsoring something related to the NFL.


    Feeling kinda peckish from all of this beef talk, I went to the freezer and grabbed a tiny ice cream cone. It contained a part of the cow, not the one that was being advertised right now. Score one for ¡®Got Milk¡¯.


    One of the pleasures of being an adult was being able to ruin your appetite on your own terms. With the cereal earlier and the ice cream I was having now, my diet today was rather lacking in everything other than fiber and dairy. The troubling part was that I grabbed the last one, meaning I would have to get some more tomorrow. Another reason to stop by Kroger after work. Michael enjoyed these too, which meant that these were a hot commodity. Maybe I should tell him that there¡¯s milk in it so he doesn¡¯t eat them anymore.


    <hr>


    Thirty minutes passed. The race still was relatively clean for a Superspeedway race. Entertaining nonetheless.


    Right at the 6:35 PM mark, Michael messaged me [¡°you can come now¡±]. The funny thing is that we use Discord to talk, and he uses his VTuber account to message me. I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s against the rules or not. I would probably look schizophrenic if I told people that the person I talk to the most only exists ¡®on the internet¡¯.


    Entering Michael¡¯s room, I saw him preparing to change over to the setup for today¡¯s stream. He was still in his default setup, which was his VTuber model sitting in a room that was way more Victorian in design than his actual room. I didn¡¯t even think his ¡®character¡¯ fit the aesthetic, but what do I know. He was putting on his black gloves that VTubers always wear when doing handcam streams.


    Turning to me, Michael said ¡°I¡¯m muted by the way.¡± I was ¡®free¡¯ to talk.


    Sitting in an extra office chair that was in his room, I watched him pull out a small dry-erase board.


    ¡°You can use this to talk once everything¡¯s ready to go.¡± he said while handing the board to me. This was a better idea than my sticky note idea¨Calso seeing as I forgot to bring them, I¡¯m glad Michael had another idea.


    Putting on the gloves I got from the kitchen, Michael said ¡°Oh good, the only other pair of gloves I own are my backup pair of these.¡± holding up a pair identical to the ones he had on. Did he even read the text I sent him earlier?


    Wondering, I asked him ¡°Do they know about today¡¯s stream?¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± pointing at his chat ¡°they already knew you were coming.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± sighing ¡°I already knew that, I¡¯m talking about the chip.¡±


    ¡°Wait? How did you know that?¡± He look puzzled, like I didn¡¯t personally deliver the damn thing to him mere hours ago.


    ¡°I saw it on Twitter.¡±


    ¡°You follow me on there?¡±


    ¡°Well...yeah. I have to keep up with what you¡¯re doing somehow.¡± The guy had like half a million followers on Twitter, so there¡¯s no way he could have noticed me following him. All I do on there is lurk anyway.


    Getting back to the point, I asked again ¡°So, they don¡¯t know about the chip?¡±


    Gesturing to the chip, Michael stated that he was waiting for me to arrive to show the big reveal. This was getting a bit convoluted for what was essentially a tortilla chip unboxing and review, but being a streamer, you have to build hype for your streams. A necessary evil I guess.


    While we were having our short conversation, I noticed that Michael¡¯s VTuber model, Francis, was still moving around, as if he never muted himself. This was a regular thing, but it was quite absurd to see happening in real-time in my face. Noticing that I was looking at his monitor, Michael said ¡°Go ahead and roll your chair so I can continue.¡±


    Settling in, Michael un-muted himself and told everyone in the chat that ¡®Roomie-chan¡¯ arrived. The chat was too far away for me to see, but I¡¯m assuming most people were saying hi or something of the sort, seeing how fast it was going. In order to prove that I was actually there, I wrote ¡°hello¡± in marker on the dry-erase board, then handed it to Michael who then showed it on his handcam.


    ¡°Come on chat, you know Roomie-chan is obligated to stay silent on stream. It was in the lease agreement he signed!¡± Some of Michael¡¯s chat wanted me to have a more vocal role in today¡¯s stream, but I think Michael¡¯s managers and AnyClover would have a huge issue with that. I didn¡¯t feel like talking to thousands of people as well, so writing on a dry-erase board like I¡¯m Komi-san is good enough.


    <hr>


    After some further meandering, we got the show on the road. The reception to Michael¡¯s other surprise, which was only a surprise due to his gamble on the Post Office to deliver his goods on time, was met with shock.


    Along with my initial reaction, a good portion of the chat was telling their own stories about the One Chip Challenge. I was able to read the chat by pulling it up on my phone, smirking externally and laughing internally while chat scrolled by at a rate of knots. One reason why I never got into Virtual YouTubers, or streamers in general, was because I felt like most communities were built on contrived in-jokes that varied little from streamer to streamer. The culture was so ¡®plug-and-play¡¯ that it looked ingenuine at times. This, however, was the real thing, or about as real as I¡¯ve ever seen. This is what Virtual YouTubing is all about.


    Michael had a tall canister of water at his side. If I had to guess, it held about 32 ounces of water¨Ca guestimation based on my experiences of drinking eight cups a day for years on end by now. I knew full well that water wouldn¡¯t help him in the slightest, but at least it did feel nice while drinking it. Milk would help him, but Michael already ruled that out, which left the ¡®little extra¡¯ help that he referenced. I didn¡¯t know what that ¡®little extra¡¯ was, but racking my brain around what it could be.


    After a few seconds of deep thinking, I came to a realization¡­the only other thing in the fridge that could help with drowning out spicy tastes was the ice cream¡­which there was none of left, because I ate the last cone less than an hour ago¡­oh shit.


    If I was correct, then the secret thing that Michael had in store was the ice cream that was now in my stomach. For about half a second, I panicked, putting myself in his shoes. But after that, I came to the conclusion that this could actually be the best thing that happened. I¡¯ll say it again: Peak content. This was his fault for being smug about all of this. Not that it mattered at all to me¨Cit was going to be his own demise. I would bear none of the pain.


    While I was deep in thought, Michael was reading out the rules to the One Chip Challenge. As expected, he was going to go for ¡®Invincible¡¯. To last a full hour¡­barely anyone in chat believed that he would be able to last that long. At least Michael had himself.


    Opening the small box, the chip was wrapped neatly in a wrapper that had ¡®PAQUI ONE CHIP CHALLENGE¡¯ on it. The wrapper, which was blue, signifying the whole ¡®blue tongue¡¯ thing, was laid to the side, still on cam, while Michael read what was inside the box.


    ¡°¡®Prove it! Show us your tongue!¡¯ Well, seeing that I can¡¯t really show you my tongue, Roomie-chan is going to make sure I actually do it!¡± Michael stated while nudging at me. Really, this whole arrangement was awkward, and me being there to ¡®prove¡¯ that he ate the One Chip Challenge was an awful pretense. Seemingly re-realizing, he said, ¡°Oh sorry. I forgot you can¡¯t talk!¡± and did a canned laugh, which was accompanied by real laughs in the chat. Seeing a chance to jump in, I wrote ¡°haha¡± on the dry-erase board. I didn¡¯t find it funny particularly, but I¡¯d rather participate than be a buzzkill. I wasn¡¯t planning on ¡®speaking¡¯ much, but I knew I had to at least let the people know I was actually there.


    <hr>


    Michael continued on talking for about fifteen minutes, almost continuously. He was skillful enough at broadcasting to not have much, if not any, excessive dead air. It does help when you have hundreds of people trying to talk to you in chat, but I think it¡¯s impressive to be able to pull off every day for hours. It¡¯s the same skill talk radio broadcasters have. He¡¯s kind of like Rush Limbaugh if he cared about MOBAs instead of MOABs.


    I, on the other hand, stayed perfectly silent and still. I was perfectly fine with Michael doing all of the talking¨Che¡¯s who they came to see! While he talked to his fans, I was on my phone wasting time. Occasionally I would try to pop back into his chat just to see what they were talking about, but it was difficult to keep track of the total amount of messages being sent. Superchats got priority, as one would expect. Those messages usually had questions in them or gave thanks to Michael for providing entertainment to them. Funnily enough, one ¡®supa¡¯ that came from him said ¡°Go ahead and do the challenge! Roomie-chan can¡¯t be here all night! He¡¯s got to go to work like the rest of us tomorrow!¡± The person did make a good point¡ªhe was continuing to stall, even after he was ¡®officially¡¯ ready. Also, I don¡¯t work on Sundays, so I¡¯m fine chat.


    By this time, Michael had already opened the wrapper and had the chip on camera. It was blue, as advertised, and was coated with Reaper Pepper and Scorpion Pepper from head to toe. Even if Michael was a ¡®typical¡¯ streamer, wearing gloves while holding the chip would be a very wise thing to do. This wasn¡¯t something that you wanted to accidentally rub into your eyes.


    It had been almost an hour since Michael had started the stream, so I was expecting him to get the show on the road and do the challenge at some point. I could understand if he was having second thoughts now that the chip was right in front of him and ready to be eaten. I don¡¯t think he watched anyone else eat the chip before doing this so he had no idea what a world of pain he was going to be in soon. However, by the looks of the chat, they knew what they were in for. I knew as well.


    Michael had pulled up a timer and put it in the top right corner of the stream¨Chis goal was to last the full hour, a goal that he was NOT going to make. It was nearing 7 PM, which Michael spotted and gave him the motivation to get on the hurry up.


    ¡°Alright guys, we¡¯ve talked enough for now. It¡¯s time to eat the damn thing!¡± He was amping himself up for the chip, which he was giving the chat a three-sixty-view of. Doing the challenge was easy. All you had to do was eat the chip¨Cin one bite preferably. You¡¯re just multiplying the spiciness if you take two bites.


    Michael was looking at the chip like it was a bug¡­hey man, it¡¯s a bit late to have second thoughts! With a deep inhale, Michael said ¡°Well, here goes nothing!¡± and inhaled the chip.


    He chewed and swallowed it in only a few seconds. Indeed, this was the easy part. The crunch of the chip radiated throughout the room. There was no doubt in mind that everyone watching heard it. He stuck his tongue out, which only I could see, and said ¡°wow, my tongue is really blue!¡± I nodded. It was in fact blue. His teeth were blue as well, but I couldn¡¯t tell him that.


    It was at about this time, ten seconds in, when the chip¡¯s power kicked in. After sticking his tongue out to no one except me, he suddenly raised his eyebrows and said ¡°Oh yeah, this is hot¡±. His VTuber model made a surprised face that was really close to his real-life face, which made it very difficult not to laugh at his proclamation. This wasn¡¯t lost on the chat, which started spamming laughing and surprised emotes. Michael was trying to play it off cool, but it was obvious from his facial expression that he was in pain. And this was the start of it. Get ready buddy.


    At the twenty-second mark, Michael started chuckling, saying ¡°wow, this really isn¡¯t going to stop, isn¡¯t it?¡±. He didn¡¯t say anything else, just continuing to laugh while shaking his head. I wasn¡¯t saying anything, but I was trying my best not to smile or laugh in his face.


    Half a minute into the challenge, Michael¡¯s face had fully changed from pale to bright red. He started coughing uncontrollably, and inexplicably took off his headphones. There was sweat pouring down his face, and he was dry-heaving. My schadenfreude levels were at about max, but others in the chat were starting to get concerned, saying things such as ¡°pls drink some milk if this is too much for you!!!¡±. Assuming Francis was their oshi, they should already know that he hated milk.


    ¡°I don¡¯t need¡­to drink any milk¡­this will subside eventually¡­¡± Michael was having difficulty speaking. Tears were starting to come out of his eyes. Not even a minute in, he was crying due to a tortilla chip. To be fair, it was the world¡¯s hottest tortilla chip, but still a tortilla chip. Not even concerned with how it would sound over the stream, Michael took a tissue and blew his nose at mach ten. This chip was working wonders if it could clean your sinus within a minute of inhaling it. Michael was lucky that he had an entire box of tissues to the side. He would be needing them.


    For the next minute, Michael said nothing. He was concentrating on not breaking. Breathing in deep, Michael was trying to calm himself down. It didn¡¯t seem to be working though, since he occasionally coughed and was still sweating. With his eyes closed, his VTuber model also had his eyes closed, prompting some in chat to say ¡°oyasumi Francis¡± or ¡°omg he died¡±. Seeing a way to make them laugh some more, I took the dry-erase board, wrote ¡°he¡¯s also crying if you can believe that LOL¡±, and placed it in front of the handcam. Once he opened his eyes, he shoved the board out of the way, retorting with ¡°I¡¯m not¡­crying...¡±, while continuing to cry.


    This continued for another minute. Nothing was said, and all Michael was doing was breathing in deeply, like he had just gotten done with an intense workout. He looked at the packaging again, saying ¡°oh my god¡­this is taking so long¡­I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m only two minutes and thirty seconds in¡­¡± Right then, Michael reached for his gut. It seemed like the stomach pains were kicking in.


    At around the four-minute mark, Michael suddenly stated ¡°fuck this!¡± and stormed out of his room, his VTuber model stuck looking like he just got kicked in the nuts. I knew what he was probably looking for: that ice cream cone that I had eaten before this stream. Michael was about to be in a world of trouble¨Csince all we had was about a thimble of milk left. He completely forgot about his water.


    As I was finishing those thoughts, Michael raced back into the room, muted his mic, and said ¡°Where the fuck is the ice cream?¡±


    Sighing, I had to break the news to him.


    ¡°I ate it earlier.¡±


    ¡°You what? You knew that I was eating this chip and you still ate the only thing that would give me comfort!¡± I had no idea how he had the capacity to yell a whole sentence while fighting for his life. He was exerting way too much energy than was good for him.


    ¡°You should¡¯ve told me! I would¡¯ve never eaten it if you were saving it for tonight!¡± Really, common sense would¡¯ve told him to tell me to save it for him. This is what he gets for being over-confident about this whole thing.


    Struggling to breathe, Michael retorted ¡°And also there¡¯s barely any fucking milk! Really?¡±. Before he could say anymore, he started up a coughing fit. He was extremely upset, and I could understand why. But at the same time, he was certainly putting on a show. I mean, for a man who was currently muted, he was making a lot of viewers laugh in chat. They only saw his model moving around violently. After finishing coughing, Michael grabbed his giant water bottle and chugged from it. The temporary relief wasn¡¯t what he needed, but it was all that he had at the moment. For those keeping score¨Che stopped the timer too. Four minutes and three seconds for those who care.


    Sighing again, I decided to ¡®make it right¡¯. ¡°Michael, I¡¯m sorry for eating your ice cream. I can go to the store up the road and get some if that¡¯s what you want.¡± I wasn¡¯t sorry at all, but I had to indulge him a bit. The man was in excruciating pain and was in a vulnerable state, to say the least. This was also the first time I had seen him get angry.


    He seemed to be in pain to the point where he couldn¡¯t muster the energy to be mad at me anymore. All he said back was ¡°please¡­¡±, with a pained expression. The water wasn¡¯t helping at all, as expected.


    There was a convenience store around a mile away from our house that was going to close in an hour. Its close distance meant that it wouldn¡¯t take but a minute or two to drive there. The only thing that would be working against Michael was if there were many other people in there as well. Also being a gas station and a restaurant, the convenience store had a lot of traffic.


    Much to Michael¡¯s dismay, I walked, not ran, to the door. After making sure I had everything I needed to go, I got in my car. I plugged in my phone. I typically used my phone to listen to music or podcasts or to get directions to a location, but today was different. It took a bit to find it, but I finally got Michael¡¯s stream to start playing. With the sounds of his bitching, I could finally go now.


    <hr>


    Being only a mile-long trip, the drive to the store was a short one. I tuned into Michael¡¯s stream to see how he was holding up. While he was complaining a lot, he seemed to be doing fine¨Cat least compared to how I saw him last. He still wasn¡¯t saying much of anything, but he was at least attempting to be receptive. From the sound of it, there were many superchats coming in, meaning that his pain was in fact his gain, at least monetarily.


    In the hour that Michael had been streaming, the sun had set. Well, it was already pretty dusky when he started, but it was properly dark now. It was somewhat disorienting, considering it didn¡¯t feel like the night yet. In a few weeks, it¡¯ll still be light out at this time of day. Time going forward an hour was a killer when it came to sleeping in, but having the sum out later in the day was a good psychological force. The sun being down when I leave work subconsciously affirms to me that the day is ¡®over¡¯, while it being still up meant that there was still time left on the clock. It could be at the same time, separated by only a month or two, but it would still affect my mood one way or another.


    You may be asking, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just drive there? It¡¯s only a mile¡­¡± ¨C while it¡¯s technically possible, where we live is no place to walk. Living near a state highway, there were always vehicles on the road, some of them paying attention less than others. It¡¯s only made worse since there¡¯s no sidewalk anywhere, which means you¡¯d have to walk in tall grass or on the road to get to your destination. You could walk there, but it would involve crossing the road several times and trusting anyone driving wouldn¡¯t hit you. There weren¡¯t any street lights either, so walking at night was suicidal unless if you had hi-vis on. The flip side of this inconvenience was that it was very difficult for Michael to have a stalker. There¡¯s almost no place to park your car and hide. You would have to be a neighbor to be able to keep up with us, and I don¡¯t think our neighbors own a computer, never mind know what a VTuber is.


    Pulling into the parking lot was a breeze. There were multiple entryways, which could make maneuvering to a parking spot or to a pump tricky. There were only a few vehicles parked out front, and a man pumping gas into his truck on the other side of the lot.


    Walking into the convenience store, there were only a few others inside, one already in line.


    There was a chest freezer next to the door which had an assortment of ice cream inside it. Knowing that Michael didn¡¯t care what I grabbed, I got a smorgasbord of ice cream¨Cit was going on his card anyway. Even if he could barely speak, he was able to thank someone for sending a fifty-dollar superchat while I was driving here. Fifty dollars! Although I¡¯ve heard stories about streamers being donated twenty thousand dollars¡­guess you had to stream CS:GO to be granted that privilege.


    Of course, the store had more than ice cream¨Cthey had a whole assortment of treats and all the beer that your dad could want¡­except for Pabst Blue Ribbon for some reason. They also had cigarettes, scratch-offs, and all the fake weed that you could get your hands on They even had ¡®Delta-6¡¯, the newest in the line of what I call ¡®Diet Weed¡¯ that has been taking over states where marijuana is illegal in the last few years. I heard that it¡¯s not lethal like K2 or bath salts were, meaning it wouldn¡¯t kill you if you did it. There wasn¡¯t any salvia as well, unfortunately. I don¡¯t think it would go over well if it discovered that Francis¡¯s ¡®Roomie-chan¡¯ spent his money on a fake weed vape, so I saved my curiosity for another day.


    Their milk selection was dismal, but it was a given since rarely anyone who comes in here comes to get a gallon of milk. It was like five dollars for a gallon too, at least twice the price I would¡¯ve paid at Kroger! It was the price you paid for only having to drive a mile to the store versus driving ten miles. As they say; time is money. And it¡¯s not my money I¡¯m spending right now, but my time.


    Grabbing a gallon of milk, I headed to the register. The guy in front of me was returning a lottery ticket. From the looks of it, he won twenty dollars from it, from which he bought a pack of Marlboro Reds and six hotdogs.


    Smiling to myself, I couldn¡¯t help but say ¡°What a deal¡± out loud.


    The man, hearing me, turned around and said ¡°Yeah, you can¡¯t beat that with a stick¡±.


    I really didn¡¯t care to get into a conversation, but it would be rude to ignore him, so I responded with a chuckle along with saying ¡°Sure can¡¯t¡±.


    ¡°Especially with inflation!¡± he retorted back¡­Oh god, I made a huge mistake. I have a gallon of milk and like nine frozen treats in my hand, both of which were making me freeze my ass off, and now I had to listen to what was probably the thousand unprompted explanation about how the President was causing the economy to tank on purpose.


    Working in retail, you occasionally get these types of customers. Due to working at Hobby Lobby, more leaned right than left, but cranks of every kind occasionally went off on a tirade that was only tangentially related to their original question at hand. I don¡¯t mind it there, since I got paid to listen to them bitch, but having to listen to this while ice cream melts on my shirt? Oh well, not much I can do other than smile and nod. Even if inflation is a worldwide trend and we Americans were relatively lucky since our inflation rate was lower than say, England and Germany, it wasn¡¯t low enough to stop accusations of ruining the economy. In a sense, I get it¨Cpaying more for the same item sucks. The most prevalent example was with eggs, which nearly doubled in the last few months. With things like this, there usually are internal and external factors that cause this to happen. Avain flu reducing egg production. War causing the price of grain to feed chickens and gas to transport eggs to increase. There was also the fact that the point of doing business was to give as little and take as much as you could. These reasons, and others, result in the record-high egg prices we have right now. The point of the matter is that there¡¯s not much the President can do about this. He¡¯s just going to have to take the blame from those who don¡¯t like him. It¡¯s part of the job to be cursed at. Hell, I bet if the other guy was in office, those on the other side of the aisle would be blaming him instead of doing any research. It was easier to point out ¡®problems¡¯ that way. That¡¯s politics for you. Man, I wish I went to school for engineering instead.


    <hr>


    In the middle of explaining the concept of how inflation works and pretending that it was a new thing, his hot dogs came out and were ready to go. He left before he could get to the point. If there was one.


    Being next in line, I finally got to dump the gallon of milk and the assortment of frozen treats onto the counter¨Cif it wasn¡¯t for me wearing long sleeves, my arms would¡¯ve probably been cold to the bone. Instead, they were damp like I was sweating buckets. The young man at the counter scanned the ice creams and milk. That reminded me; I wonder how Michael is doing...I probably had been in the store for about five minutes now. It felt like an hour due to experiencing unprompted political talk, but in reality, I really didn¡¯t have to wait that long for Mr. Scratch-Off to get his wieners and then leave. As someone who has once waited forty-five minutes to get fish and chicken from Captain D¡¯s, a five-minute wait was nothing.


    Speaking of wieners, I decided to get six to go ¡®all the way¡¯, since I had no idea what I was going to eat for dinner. I got Michael three so in the case he couldn¡¯t stomach anything else, he wouldn¡¯t be left out. The landlord told me that the hot dogs from this place were ¡®out of this world¡¯¨CI highly doubted that, but it¡¯s very hard to fuck up a hot dog from my experience. Either way, I wasn¡¯t paying.


    <hr>


    About a minute later, I was out the door, frozen treats and milk in one hand, and hotdogs in the other. Thankfully, they were all bagged so I didn¡¯t have to carry them like I was stealing. As I walked out, I started to feel irritated¨Cnot because of the length from the front door to my car (quite the opposite actually, since I parked closest to the door)¨Cbut because there was currently a truck blocking my way out. There was also some back-and-forth yelling going on somewhere nearby.


    This parking lot was small, meaning you would unfortunately have to block someone¡¯s way to get out, but the truck behind my car was seemingly idling. I placed everything in the passenger seat of my car and then went to the window¨Cno one was in the driver''s seat. What I did see past the windows was one man whaling on another man.


    ¡®Whaling¡¯ would probably be an overstatement, but it was obvious who was winning this fight. I had no idea who that was, but I knew who the guy on the ground was¨Cit was that weird guy inside.


    ¡°I told you not to come around here again!¡± The man who was beating our fellow hot dog enjoyer up was done landing punches. He dusted himself off, picked the other man up, and threw him against the gas pump adjacent to him. Mr. Scratch Off, not resisting at all, fell against the pump, and seemed to be in no mood to do anything. He must have really gotten the shit kicked out of him in the minute I was checking out.


    The other man, now entering his F-150, yelled ¡°Now you better get, and stay get!¡± and quickly left the station, skidding out like he was trying to do a burnout. Our ¡®friend¡¯ must have done something to make him very upset. I doubt it was politically motivated, since the Ford had a faded sticker on the rear bumper expressing support for a famous real-estate-developer-turned-game-show-host.


    With the coast clear, I went to see how our acquaintance was doing. He was lying on the concrete with his head against a pump. From the looks of it, he was out cold. He wasn¡¯t bleeding or anything, but he did have a huge knot on his head forming.


    As I was about to ask if he was awake, I got a text. Looking at my phone, it said:


    [¡°where tf are you @ !!! im dying over here !!¡±]


    So impatient, damn! I had good reason to be running late. I couldn¡¯t get out! I had to show him what happened¨Che wouldn¡¯t believe me otherwise.


    <hr>


    A few minutes later, I was finally back home. The guy''s truck was still running, so all I had to do was park it for him. I parked it at the pump he was resting at. There were only four pumps at this gas station¨Ctaking one of these stations and idling would be frowned upon if he didn¡¯t get up soon. I considered putting the fuel pump into his truck as to make it seem like he was getting gas, but I decided against it. He would be up soon, and if he wasn¡¯t, someone would eventually call 911. I could tell he was breathing¨CI didn¡¯t know if he was actually out cold or was just playing dead¨Cit really wasn¡¯t my problem to be honest. I didn¡¯t know what prior events caused this situation to conspire, and I didn¡¯t really care to know in the first place. The only thing I could think of to confirm if he was only taking a rest was to toss his keys at him. Aiming for his chest, I accidentally nailed him on the forehead. His closed eyes didn¡¯t flinch a bit. I¡¯m also pretty sure I saw the owner of the store walking out and yelling ¡°You can not be sleeping here!¡± while pulling out. The situation will solve itself.


    Back home, by the time I got to the kitchen, Michael was already there¨CI¡¯m surprised he didn¡¯t slip and bust his ass how fast he was running in socks. He tore open the first bag I set on the counter and grabbed the first thing he saw.


    ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± Michael said, examining what was obviously a hot dog in a wrapper.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s called a hot dog,¡± I said with extreme sarcasm as I threw him a random frozen treat from the other bag that I was still holding. He hoovered it up, almost taking the wrapper down the hatch as well, and took the treats bag back to his room. He also took the hot dog if you were wondering.


    Now that the fun was had, I didn¡¯t really care to go back to his room. I was there to see him eat shit, not to watch a mukbang. If he was really in that much pain, the stream wouldn¡¯t last that much longer anyway.


    <hr>


    For those who are wondering¨Cthe stream was a ¡®success¡¯. Michael made around $2,000 in superchats in the two-and-a-half hours that he streamed¨C$800 an hour! Of course, a lot of that money would go to YouTube and his handlers at AnyClover, but either way, he made a lot of currency that night. Was it worth it? At the moment he would¡¯ve said no, but once his stomach started behaving again, he would see how his pain was for gain. There were also a lot of memberships gifted during the stream, but I was too lazy to look up how many.


    After the stream was over, I didn¡¯t hear from Michael for the next 18 hours¨Cthat wasn¡¯t that uncommon to be quite honest since he was a bit of a hermit, but he had a valid reason to be bedridden after doing The Challenge. He at least made it back to the fridge, since there were like five ice creams in the fridge along with a half-ate hot dog. Of course, I moved the ice cream to the freezer before it started melting. The saving grace was that he kept them in the bag they came in, so they didn¡¯t get the chance to melt on the fridge. That would¡¯ve been a real bitch to clean that up.


    He didn¡¯t have any streams planned for the next day, so he could lounge around in bed all he wanted without feeling guilty. He would probably spend most of the day on Twitter and Discord, which in all honestly wouldn¡¯t be that much different from normal.


    As for me, the quick trip to the convenience store saved me the trouble of having to go to Kroger¨Cat least for a day. That stream was a whole new experience for me in more than one way. It was the first time I ever saw someone get beat up in public since university, and it was also the first time I was ¡®on-stream¡¯ to thousands of people. A common criticism of ¡®corpo VTubers¡¯ is that they have their audiences handed to them and they only have to show up. Sour grapes or not, it was true that it was easier by far to gain a following if you were signed to a company that could promote you. To get there in the first place meant that you had the skill and the dedication to entertain your audience. Some more cynical viewers might think that Michael faked doing The One Chip Challenge, but he really did put his gut on the line for content. I don¡¯t know why he thought he could pass the challenge with ease, but that part of him was one of the parts that made his streams popular. He wasn¡¯t the top VTuber in AnyClover, but he was up there. He had a pretty good knack for knowing what his viewers wanted to see. Sometimes he resorted to the ASMR streams that I wouldn¡¯t touch with a ten-foot pole, but it also meant that he would make a fool of himself by eating the world¡¯s hottest tortilla chip.


    Would I be part of one of his streams again? More than likely, but I wasn¡¯t planning on being a common feature. Hell, my contribution to the stream was minimal¨Cplacing a dry-erase board on camera a few times with my musings. Hardly anything revolutionary, but his fans seemed to love it. It would be more appealing if I wasn¡¯t doing it for free. Being paid in hot dogs and ice cream is nice, however, it doesn¡¯t pay the rent. Needless to say, I was looking forward to making a cameo again. I wouldn¡¯t show up for no reason though¨CI wasn¡¯t going to become part of Michael¡¯s Wack Pack¨Ca group whose only member would be me.


    It would be nice to become a streamer if I was rolling in the money like Michael was. I lacked the drive and initiative to attempt to become one though. My personality wasn¡¯t endearing at all either. It took those three things and a lot of luck to make being a streamer a profitable venture. And if there¡¯s one thing I know about streaming, those who start doing it for the money don¡¯t make it.


    As it stood, I already had a job. A shit job, but a job that paid the bills nonetheless. I wasn¡¯t going to give that up to be a fleeting streamer who could barely break into the 2-digits. I¡¯ll leave the entertaining to my roommate.

 First Person Shooter

    I¡¯ve never been that competitive when it comes to video games¡­well, not since I was in university. Of course, when it comes to competitive games, I give it my best, but I never was one for all-day grinding or eSports. Taking a video game that seriously never appealed to me. I understand if it¡¯s your livelihood, but it¡¯s beyond me why my fellow gamers practice so many hours a day for a game they get nothing in return. At least it seems that way, since most of those up at the top of the rankings are always bitching about something and never seem happy.


    The one game that I was considered ¡®good¡¯ at was Counter-Strike: Global Offensive. Due to having the rank of ¡®Distinguished Master Gaurdian¡¯, I was considered a god in relation to novices. It was very embarrassing to be hyped up like that, considering DMG was only an average rank in the game if you were that into it. Below average if you got into a dick-measuring contest on the HLTV forums or Reddit. The thing is that the CS:GO matchmaking system isn¡¯t the most reliable way of telling someone¡¯s strength¨Cthe real CS:GO gamers played on third-party servers hosted by companies like ESEA or FACEIT. Compared to them, I was only a casual, and I was fine with that. I didn¡¯t have it in me to train like they do¨CI was in my mid-20s now and had better things to do. Back in my days as a freshman and sophomore in university, I did take it a bit seriously. Seriously as in playing in deathmatch servers and 1v1 servers daily as to sharpen my shooting skills. But even then, that was accompanied by either a podcast or talking to online friends on Skype or TeamSpeak (Discord wasn¡¯t in vogue yet).


    During that time, I kept up with the pro scene as well. It was fun to watch professional matches¨Cit was the only time I ever got into an ¡®eSport¡¯. I think out of all of the games out there that try to market themselves as eSports, CS:GO is the most viable choice. Unlike games like League of Legends or DOTA which rely on you to know how the game is played and what abilities, items, or characters are being used, CS:GO is something that your parents could watch and grasp the situation of what¡¯s going on. Violent, but easier to comprehend than champions using unknown powers to capture checkpoints.


    It¡¯s relatively simple: two teams of five players, one being ¡®Terrorists¡¯, and the other being ¡®Counter-Terrorists¡¯, try to kill each other while one (the Terrorists) tries to plant the bomb, and the other (the Counter-Terrorists) tries to defend the bomb sites from said Terrorists. The first to 16 rounds wins, and if the game is tied after 30 rounds, then overtime is played (in most outcomes). Unlike Valorant, there aren¡¯t any special abilities or ultimates that get used to potentially change the outcome of a round. All you had was your guns, ammo, grenades, and ¡®gamesense¡¯. Of course, any ¡®professional video game¡¯ was a hard sell to anyone who didn¡¯t play them, but at least CS:GO was easier to digest than, say, Overwatch or Starcraft II. It was a fools errand to try to appeal to the masses with eSports alone, that being said. The competitive scene is only as strong as the player base wills it to be. Manufacturing one out of whole cloth may work in the short term, but seldom works out in the long run. A true eSport-worthy game is one that can survive without any influence from the developer of said game. CS:GO was a game that had a lot of support from the competitive side from Valve, but had even bigger support from external forces¨Cforces that were there way before Valve decided to get in on the action. Before CS:GO, Valve was hands-off with it. Counter-Strike, despite it not having a major update since 2003, was a popular eSport up to the year after CS:GO came out. Counter Strike: Source had a brief time when it was popular in the competitive scene, but it never quite took off¡ªthe whole Championship Gaming Series farce was the only time it had any spotlight.


    I had been out of the loop with CS:GO for the last few years since I had no one to play it with. The guys in university I played with, I haven¡¯t talked to them in a while. They don¡¯t play anymore anyways. CS:GO is a game that¡¯s miserable to play solo. Unless you completely take a game over, the fate of the game often rests a lot more on if your teammates can do their part than if you can do yours. It¡¯s a team game, but sometimes your teammates don¡¯t care to play as one. Sometimes you and your teammates want to win, but can¡¯t gel together as a team. Sometimes it was you. There are a million factors.


    There were some features recently added to the game that made playing it slightly more fun. There was an option to play a short match, which ended up being only half the length of a typical CS:GO game. This made it less painful to play in case it was obvious from the first pistol round that your team isn¡¯t going to win, albeit at the cost of matches being less climatic and rememberable. It was better than wasting half an hour on a game that was dead on arrival. I know I should have the spirit of ¡®come on guys! we can do this!¡¯ while playing, but it¡¯s hard to motivate four people you don¡¯t know¨Cfour people who for all intents and purposes could be purposely throwing the game, lack the skill at the moment to be able to contribute, or straight up could not give any less of a shit. That doesn¡¯t even account for me, who was only knowledgeable about the game because I¡¯ve played a lot of it. If I was that good at the game, then my complaints above wouldn¡¯t matter. The fact of the matter is that I don¡¯t care enough to improve my game above whatever skill level I¡¯m at right now, and most likely won¡¯t change that opinion for a while. I mean I haven¡¯t played that much in the last few years anyway. I¡¯ve only started up playing again in the last few weeks.


    Needless to say, playing with friends made playing CS:GO a lot more enjoyable. Those who play online games know that losing with friends is a lot more enjoyable than losing with randoms. None of my friends played CS:GO anymore, but I was about to gain a new duo partner¨Cand be further integrated into Michael¡¯s world.


    <hr>


    This all started the night of the One Chip Incident. About thirty minutes after I went back to my room, I got a notification from Michael. One of the VTubers in the same group as him wanted to add me. For whatever reason I didn¡¯t know why.


    I told him that it was okay to send my Discord information to them. Considering I was inseparable from Michael at this point, it was only time before I came to know some of his coworkers.


    About half a minute later, I got a message request from ¡®Violet Bridgewater¡¯. Coincidentally enough, she was the VTuber I had been gifted a membership to. Her message was just the Wumpus Wave sticker, which I replied to with one of my own.


    Violet wanted to know how the whole ordeal went down. I guess Michael was too tore up internally to elaborate. Having no reason not to tell her, I typed an abridged version of today¡¯s events, sans the whole gas station beatdown. After that, the conversation drifted towards somewhere I never thought it would go.


    I had CS:GO open, despite not playing it. Nonetheless, ¡®Playing Counter-Strike: Global Offensive¡¯ appeared under my name on Discord, giving away that I was about to play. Was, that is, until I got into this conversation. It wasn¡¯t everyday that you got to talk to someone this popular¡­okay it was for me. But unlike Michael¨CI mean Francis, I didn¡¯t know much about Violet other than she was in the same group as him. Unlike Michael, who was undeniably crude at times, she was completely wholesome. In the short time that I¡¯ve watched her streams, Violet didn¡¯t curse once¨Cshe actually went out of her way not to curse, which I found hilarious.


    She said that she was a fan of first person shooters, but never got into CS:GO. I, on the other hand, had spent plenty of time playing throughout the years. The game was a decade old at this point, so having a thousand-plus hours wasn¡¯t as big as a deal as it seemed. To Violet though, I might as well been ¡®s1mple¡¯ when I told her I had the DMG rank. She had started playing ¡®off-stream¡¯ a few weeks ago and was ranked Silver 2.


    I thought she would have some coworkers to play with, but I guess they would all rather play Valorant or Overwatch 2. Battle royales like Apex Legends and the Call of Duty one were all the rage too. I didn¡¯t particularly like them though¨Cthey were too unpredictable... also I had no one to play with. I played Fortnite occasionally since it had a no-build mode, but that was only competitive in the spirit of the game. Again, I had no one to play with, but at least there, there were always kids that I could smoke. The one playing on their Switches at least.


    Since she was beating around the bush, I straight up asked her if she wanted to play sometime. It would go without saying that I would have to make a new account¨Cnot just because I would need to conceal my identity in case I was ever ¡®on-stream¡¯, but also because the rank gap inbetween Silver 2 and DMG would make it impossible for us to find competitive games. I thought it was weird how easily she went along with this, but considering that I was ¡®roomie-chan¡¯ in her eyes, it made sense. Sort of.


    To avoid it looking suspect, I thought others should be included as well. [¡°i think michael should play too. it would be weird for just us two to be playing imo¡±]


    She replied [¡°we could¡±] and then immediately typed [¡°wait¡±] [¡°whos Michael?¡±].


    Oh god, I forgot that he was ¡®Francis¡¯ to her [¡°sorry i meant francis. anyone else whose interested should come as well. we¡¯re more guaranteed to win if we have a full squad¡±]


    [¡°i dont think he would want to play¡­i can ask around, but no one plays csgo..¡±] Well shit, I was right. No wonder she¡¯s asking me to play with her then. It¡¯s a shame that nobody else in AnyClover EN will play CS:GO with her.


    I thought once he considered that it would be a collab steam PLUS a ¡®roomie-chan¡¯ stream, he would reconsider. She would know more than me though since she¡¯s known him for way longer. If it does go though, it goes without saying that I would be a silent operator if this was an on-stream event. Considering the players we would probably be playing against would be silvers, all you really had to do was have good crosshair placement and patience.


    Making a new Steam account wouldn¡¯t be hard¨Call I had to do was tie it to an email account. My university email account, which these days I only used in job applications, would suffice. CS:GO was a free game, so all I had to do was grind to where I would be able to play competitively. That would only take an hour or two. I had a feeling that Violet was more concerned about her rank rather than playing CS:GO on stream¨Cmeaning that playing only with her was only a concern on my end.


    <hr>


    As you might expect from a VTuber named ¡®Violet¡¯, her hair was purple¨Ca bit lighter than what you get when you google ¡®violet¡¯, but stylistically it flowed better with the rest of her outfit, which was a purple dress, with green sleeves and a yellow part in the middle. The bottom of the dress¨C the ¡®ball gown¡¯ resembled a violet flower¨Cquite clever in my opinion. Her hair also had light yellow parts that resembled pollen.


    Violet seemed to have a carefree attitude. If I was in the marketing department of AnyClover, I would¡¯ve tried to push the catchphrase ¡°it¡¯s like water under the bridge¡± onto her. Perhaps that¡¯s too corny even for a VTuber¡­either way, she still exuded a child-like innocence that led me to believe that she lived a particularly sheltered life until this point. I wasn¡¯t going to pry too much into her personal life since it wasn¡¯t my business, but she had the air of someone who lived at least a rather privileged existence. At least she wasn¡¯t pompous. I hate to use this word, but she was ¡®pure¡¯. She probably thought an Elf Bar was made by Keebler. Molly was the thing you threw in games that caught other things on fire. Coke was the drink¡­well, that one was actually true a century ago. You get the point. I thought it was her playing up a character at first, but she really didn¡¯t know what an Elf Bar was. Good on her I guess since there¡¯s no chance that those aren¡¯t giving young women new forms of cancer.


    As for the games she played, she was also a ¡®variety streamer¡¯. All of the VTubers in AnyClover were. She liked to play FPSes ranging from games I knew a lot about like CS:GO to Escape from Tarkov, which I¡¯ve never played before. She was also a fan of fighting games like Street Fighter and Melty Blood and card games like Yu-Gi-Oh!. She liked to dance and sing, seeing that she did karaoke and Just Dance streams. Michael never did either of those to my knowledge. Probably too much physical exertion for him. Of course, there were also zatsudans and the ¡®streamer bait¡¯ games. Some things never change. As for the membership streams, they were along the lines the same as Michael¡¯s¨Cmovie watchalongs and the like. The funny thing was that most of her karaoke streams were unarchived, which meant you either had to be there at the time or hope that someone clipped it. You weren¡¯t supposed to do that, but you know that didn¡¯t stop it from happening.


    <hr>


    Despite wanting Michael to play with us, he had no interest. Guess CS:GO is too good of a game for him to play. Grinding my new account to level two took no time. Only a few deathmatches and I was set. I had no competitive rank yet¨CI had to win ten matches before I was granted one.


    Due to the way CS:GO worked, I could only get two wins a day on the new account, which really disappointed Violet. Two days in, and she had already gone up to Silver 3. I had four relatively easy wins on this account¡­it wasn¡¯t that I was doing good, it was more that I was playing against total newbies or people on controllers. At least that¡¯s what it felt like. The flip side was that sometimes there were ¡®bots¡¯ on our team, which made things more painful to watch when I wasn¡¯t able to hit my shots.


    Violet, despite forgetting how to plant the bomb half the time, had a decent shot. All she had to do to get out of silver was to improve her aim and learn crosshair placement. Communication, while important, didn¡¯t really matter all that much at this rank. Even if you knew the right callouts, what was the chance that the other silvers knew them? And what was the chance they were even paying attention to comms in the first place?


    My fears about this whole ordeal looking like a date were unfounded thankfully. Violet only called me when she wanted to game, and whenever we talked, the discussion was strictly business. Our chats weren¡¯t flirtatious at all¨Cin fact, I got the feeling that she wasn¡¯t attracted to men a single bit. For better or worse, I wasn¡¯t ¡®tainting¡¯ Violet¨Cnot that I gave a shit about that of stuff anyway. She¡¯s an adult. Playing with her was fun since she was fully focused on the game. She didn¡¯t know most callouts and still messed up many smoke lineups, but she still tried her best¨Cwhich was all that mattered to me. I don¡¯t mind people not being total ¡®sweats¡¯, but I hate being stuck in a ranked game with people who would rather be doing other things. Playing with Violet felt like how it did back in the day when CS:GO first came out. Back when there was fog in the game for some reason. Back when the maps had too many spaces to hide in and too much clutter around. Back when you had the round start music play before every round because you kept forgetting to turn it off. Back when you and your friends didn¡¯t have a clue how to play the game and held the same angle every round, being able to because the people on the other team didn¡¯t have a clue how to counter it.


    These feelings were pure nostalgia¨Cnostalgia for a time that still exists, but has passed me by. I can play on community servers if I wanted to right now. I could show Violet the world of Jailbreak, Zombie Mod, and the 32 v 32 community servers that still fill the community servers list, albeit heavily overshadowed by the competitive CS:GO scene. Hell, I could start playing Counter-Strike: Source if I wanted to go even further back in time (1.6 was before my time). The point was that playing CS:GO with Violet was the best time I¡¯ve had playing CS:GO in years. And not just because I was pubstomping people playing on controllers¨Cit was because she brought a childlike wonder when it came to games that I once had. It was nostalgic.


    Looking at her YouTube channel, she had one stream where she played CS:GO. It was six months ago, a long time before I moved in here or even heard of her. Looking through the VOD, it was clear that she wasn¡¯t used to shooting mechanics on a mouse and keyboard, with her moving her crosshair around unnecessarily. Unsurprisingly, she wasn¡¯t ranked. One of the first things I got her to do was to lower her sensitivity¡ªit¡¯s cool to hit a flick, but it¡¯s more important to have a steady hand and to be in control of your crosshair. It also didn¡¯t help that she was constantly commentating while playing, which distracted her and made her play worse. Her ¡®kawaii¡¯-ness wasn¡¯t enough to overshadow my natural disgust at such awful gameplay, but it was a tough fight I must admit. She had improved a lot in the few days we¡¯ve been playing¨Cimproved to whatever this was. It helped that she talked way less when it was just us.


    <hr>


    It was a week later. Violet and I continued our semi-regular CS:GO gaming. Sometimes I had to close one night and open the next, which combined with her streaming during the night made it impossible to play. I didn¡¯t mind though, since I wanted to do other things too. It wasn¡¯t like we were dating, and my brain might trick itself into thinking I was if we kept playing every night. The lonely male mind tended to do stuff like that when you had nothing else going on¡­I found the solution to that was to simply talk to other people. Communication wasn¡¯t my favorite thing to do, but sometimes you had to do it in order to feel human. Past me would¡¯ve had all the time in the world, which I eventually found out was a bad thing. I bitched about my job daily, but it gave me a reason to go out and talk to people and be part of society. If it wasn¡¯t for that, I don¡¯t think I would talk to anyone. Sometimes I went out to bars by myself, just to chill out for a few hours. I lived near where I went to university, so I knew where the good places were. I haven¡¯t done that in a while, however.


    After the initial easy matches, the match difficulty rose sharply, then decreased until it settled at a high silver/low gold nova skill level. Still ¡®low¡¯ skill compared to those who take the game seriously, but way more people at this rank knew what ¡®crosshair placement¡¯ meant than at the low silvers.


    I had won my tenth game and was anointed the rank of Gold Nova 3. I would be insulted if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that this was a throwaway account I made specifically to play with Violet. We played about two games total with DMGs and above, and we got our shit pushed in both times. Violet had ranked up thrice in this time, and was now Silver 5, otherwise known as ¡®Silver Elite¡¯. There was hardly anything ¡®elite¡¯ about the ranking, but it was way better than being Silver 2.


    With all of that in mind, I was aimlessly scrolling through my sites again. I didn¡¯t have work tomorrow, so the world was my oyster¡­too bad I was wasting it skimming news stories and half-watching YouTube videos. The problem with doing something fun is that it takes more preparation than doing nothing, which I am very good at doing.


    I got a ping from Discord¨Cit was a message from Violet saying [¡°im going to stream csgo tomorrow!¡±]. Since I had been gifted a membership to her channel, I was already in the know of what she was doing. The membership was about to lapse¨CI had little interest in renewing, just as I had little interest in watching. I wished her good luck.


    [¡°you better watch!¡±] was the message she quickly shot back. She should watch herself, if any of her superfans saw this, they would think that we were a couple! Not that I would care, but I can tell that Violet would be very hurt if her ¡®schizos¡¯ (a less affectionate term for ¡®diehards¡¯) were upset. I¡¯m still pretty sure she¡¯s gay also. A non-starter.


    [¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll watch.¡±] was all I said back. I wasn¡¯t lying¨CI had a second monitor for a reason! She was going to start her stream at around 6 PM my time, which made it a perfect time for me. I could have it on while doing other stuff.


    Thinking back to her first CS:GO stream, I had to admit it would interest me to compare tomorrow¡¯s stream to that one. I was interested to see how much she improved on her own, and if she would be able to rank up on her own. Those watching would be able to easily see how much she has improved in the two weeks we have been playing.


    Other than playing competitive matches, I¡¯ve gotten her to start playing Deathmatches¨Cwhile there are community-hosted Deathmatch servers, it¡¯s completely okay for someone to play on ones hosted by Valve. There¡¯s no real difference in my eyes, other than the skill ceiling on community servers might be higher. There was also stat tracking on some of those servers, but anyone who plays this game professionally will tell you that K/D means nothing in Deathmatch.


    I also put her on to the ¡®Aim Botz¡¯ training map. It was essentially just target practice¨CI found it quite enjoyable to play. I used it to practice hitting headshots back when I played more, but I wanted Violet to use it so she could practice using different weapons, along with the standard aim training.


    As for smoke lineups and all of that, there were a few videos I sent her based on the maps she liked to play. To be honest, this was a blind spot in my gameplay as well, so I used the opportunity to practice them as well. They rarely stuck in my memory, but it was worth trying for the tenth time to remember all the good smokes for a map like Mirage.


    <hr>


    A day later, right at 6 PM on the dot, I tuned into Violet¡¯s stream. I had worked earlier, getting off at 3 PM¨CI worked a six-hour shift, my least favorite type of shift due to the fact that I got no official lunch break. It was a pain to go from 9 AM to 3 PM only eating a bag of Cheez-Its. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I love Cheez-Its, but it wasn¡¯t much of a lunch at all. All I can say is I¡¯m glad I¡¯m home now.


    Eating leftover hibachi, I watched as Violet greeted everyone in the chat. There were many excited to see her ¡®try out¡¯ CS:GO again. This was the first time she had played it on stream in god knows how long. To my knowledge, it was the second time ever officially.


    She had promised the chat that she was an ¡®improved woman¡¯ and that she wouldn¡¯t ¡®let them down¡¯ unlike last time. There were a few wise guys cracking lame jokes in the chat, but the majority of the viewers were supportive. They wanted to see her play, even if she completely shat the bed. They were her cheerleaders. With my ¡®training¡¯ and the fact that she had improved in the last week, it was unquestionable that it would be an improvement on the last time she streamed. Unlike Michael, she didn¡¯t meander for forty-five minutes and got the show on the road relatively quickly.


    <hr>


    To be completely honest, Violet¡¯s CS:GO stream was a bit dull to watch. It was a silver game¨Cshe was the reason to watch it, and since I have had ample time to watch her play recently, it didn¡¯t strike my interest to watch it with the utmost intensity.


    The game I ¡®watched¡¯ was much more of a procession than a battle. The flip side to your teammates occasionally being braindead is that it¡¯s your opponents who are the idiots. As long as your team has played the game before and you don¡¯t act like a moron, the game settles itself out. Violet was on the good end this time, thankfully.


    She had everyone in the game muted, which usually is a huge no-no, but since the game were so easy in the first place, communication wasn¡¯t necessary. Everyone (who plays CS:GO) knows that at the silver level, communication is a luxury in the first place. It was understandable that she had voice chat muted, since CS:GO players tended to be the fastest to the draw when it came to saying slurs of a homophobic or racial kind. Even faster than COD players. Even playing with a full squad, a streamer would be smart to mute the other team, since there¡¯s always one edgelord trying to provoke. She also had the mini-map covered with a picture of herself¨Cshe only had around 60% of it blocked, so it was still possible for her to be stream-sniped. The amount of time it would take to decipher where her teammates were would defeat the point of it, however. Her steam could¡¯ve been on a thirty-second delay for all I know, which would make it futile to stream-snipe.


    I only half-paid attention to the stream, spending my time browsing the Steam and PlayStation store. My attention was only returned to the stream whenever she had an ¡®outburst¡¯, which was usually her loudly saying things like ¡°ha, take that!¡± after killing someone and ¡°ouch, gosh darnit!¡± after being killed. A random took her AWP that she randomly dropped after buying it, prompting her to say ¡°what the frick, give me it back!¡±. They didn¡¯t. It was funny that she absolutely refused to curse at all. I had no idea how old she was, but being a ¡®corpo tuber¡¯, there was no way she was a minor. She could be older than me for all I know. She also didn¡¯t curse while playing with me, which meant that this wasn¡¯t a bit she was doing. Of course, she was probably embellishing it a bit for the stream, but she didn¡¯t change that much when the cameras were off.


    <hr>


    Back in the main menu, she told chat ¡°be right back¡± and went AFK for a few minutes. I was busy updating Gran Turismo 7 since I haven¡¯t played it since I moved. I talked myself out of buying any games¨Chonestly, the only games I ever really played a lot on my PS4 was Gran Turismo Sport and its successor¡­well, I did play Persona 5 and NieR: Automata on it. However, that was like half a decade ago at this point. I just wasn¡¯t as into console gaming as I was in the past. PC gaming just has more to offer.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Thanks to the blazing-fast internet, my download was done in a jiffy. Applying the update was another matter. I know the PS4 was almost a decade old at this point, but it wasn¡¯t that slow. Who knows why it took so long to apply updates.


    Pressing the X button on my controller like it was going to make it finish updating faster, I got a Discord message. It read:


    [¡°can u play a game rn???¡±]


    It was Violet, who for some reason wanted me to play with her. I could see why she would want a duo buddy since solo-queue was russian roulette. It looked like she had decent teammates last game, but it made sense to play with people you knew because it brung a sense of familiarity. Also it was easier to laugh it off if the game went south. I thought it was a risky move to have me play with her, but it was her call. I wasn¡¯t going to be able to talk to her due to confidentiality reasons, which might as well make me another stranger.


    [¡°sure, but is that okay to play on stream?¡±]


    [¡°yeah!!¡±]


    That answer didn¡¯t give me much confidence, but if she was okay with it, there wasn¡¯t any reason to not play. Hell, maybe by time the game is over my PS4 will be done updating.


    I got an invite from Violet, which I eventually clicked. She had unmuted at this point and was talking about how a ¡®special guest¡¯ was going to join real soon.


    When ¡®roommate¡¯ joined her CS:GO party, she said ¡°HEY¡± out loud like I was hard of hearing. Since I didn¡¯t want to talk, I responded with ¡®hello¡¯ in the chat. She quickly realized that I couldn¡¯t speak in-game, as she had it muted, and went to explain to chat who I was. She also explained that we had been playing some throughout the last week as ¡®preparation¡¯ for this stream. Once she said that I was ¡°Francis¡¯s roomie-chan¡±, everyone in the chat immediately recognized me. ¡®Wow, the crossover of the century¡¯ was said more than once¡­not exactly how I planned to make my second planned appearance on a stream, but nevertheless, here I am.


    [¡°r u ready?¡±] she typed in the lobby chat.


    [¡°yeah, let me mute your stream then I¡¯ll be ready¡±] I knew it was kind of a rude thing to say to her, but hearing double was terrible in a game like CS:GO. I would have to go without hearing her for the game, which all things considered wasn¡¯t that much of a loss. She didn¡¯t give out much intel, and it gave me free rein to listen to the other three randoms we would be placed with. That is, if they spoke.


    <hr>


    Much to my dismay, we were on Dust 2. It wasn¡¯t my least favorite map, or the map I was the worst at, but I¡¯ve played it what seemed like a thousand times at this point. It was the staple of the Counter-Strike franchise. For more than 21 years now, it had been an official map, remaining unchanged¨Cthere were other official maps that were older, but Dust 2 was the only one that maintained the same layout throughout all that time.


    de_inferno was first introduced in March 13th, 2001¨Cthe same day as de_dust2. Okay, technically it was the same age as Dust 2, but unlike it, it had gone through layout changes. In the original CS, it had a snipers nest at the bottom of ¡®Mid¡¯, a second-smaller pit on A site, and had a walkway instead of ¡®Construction¡¯. Inferno was my favorite map. I liked the aesthetic of it and it seemed that I always had my best games on there. That being said, playing on it was sometimes hell. If you started on the T-side and your teammates tended to stick around at the bottom of ¡®Mid¡¯/¡¯Banana¡¯ for too long, you had to hope they were good shots¨Cotherwise, it was game over.


    Visually, de_nuke looked completely different now than it did in the original CS. Owing to Half-Life taking place in a desert for most of the game, Nuke also took place there. Reusing assets is way easier than creating your own. It was one of the first defuse maps in the game, being added in late 1999 with the ¡®Beta 4.0¡¯ update which introduced the game mode that we all know and love. Funnily enough, the only other map of note added in that update was de_dust, Dust 2¡¯s predecessor, and one-time popular map. Admittedly, Nuke¡¯s layout had not changed that much. The two changes I could point out off the top of my head were that there was only one vent down from A to B now and that ¡®Secret¡¯ was the only way down from ¡®Big Garage¡¯. Nuke had gone through many makeovers¨CDust 2 and Inferno had as well, but Nuke now looked nothing like Nuke at the launch of CS:GO, or the Nuke from previous iterations of Counter-Strike. A lot of that had to do with maps at the beginning of CS:GO being a direct port from CS:S¨Cat least that¡¯s what it looked like to me.


    de_train retained roughly the same layout from CS to CS:GO, being introduced two days before Christmas in 1999. The biggest changes being the bomb plant locations, ¡®¡®T¡¯ Heaven¡¯ being removed, ¡®¡®CT¡¯ Heaven¡¯ being introduced, and the layout of ¡®A main¡¯ being changed. You could crouch under the trains in the original CS and CS:S, which added an extra layer of strategy and bullshittery to the map. It mostly was a nuisance to newbies like me who only played in 32v32 servers at the time. Fun fact: the area that was under the original ¡®Heaven¡¯, named ¡®Hell¡¯, is still called that to this day, even though the original ¡®Heaven¡¯ has been gone for almost a decade now. The train where the old A bomb site was was called ¡®Old Bomb Train¡¯, which was humorous to me because most of the CS:GO player base probably didn¡¯t even play the game when it was where A site was.


    Those three maps were my personal favorites¨CI was also a fan of de_cbble, but that map had been removed from both the Active and Reserve Map pool for some time now. A shame, since it was unique in its theme, and provided for some fun gameplay. It was a Counter-Strike map from another era though¨Cfrom when maps were much larger in scale and were more complex. There had been a push ever since the CS:GO competitive scene had gotten big to ¡®simplify¡¯ the maps. That led to details being removed, spots that served no purpose gameplay-wise being erased, and all-around maps being ¡®fine-tuned¡¯ for 5v5 competitive play. In the past, while the CS 1.6 scene was big, Valve never really bothered with it. CS:S had a pro scene, but it was laughable compared to how big 1.6 was. It took until the release of CS:GO for Valve to actively encourage the growth of it. What it gained in the ¡®pro scene¡¯ came at the cost of the casual side taking a huge hit. Sure, you could still hop on and join a Jailbreak server, or a Zombie Survial one, but it wasn¡¯t the main draw to the game anymore. Back when I was a young boy, I didn¡¯t go on CS:S to go on ESEA and pupstomp ¡®kids¡¯. I went on there to play in a 64-man server and shoot the shit with other players. There was a lack of intensity that made it more fun to play. Competitive CS:GO is only really fun if you¡¯re engaged, winning, or playing with friends. Casual mode¡­well, you could be more casual. The other game modes are designed to be fun, while the modern defuse mode is designed to be as competitive as possible.


    Anyway, the point was that Dust 2 had remained the same in the 21 years it had been out. The only change I could think of was that it was now possible to snipe from ¡®T Spawn¡¯ to ¡®Double Doors¡¯. In the original CS, you had to drop to ¡®Suicide¡¯ to get a clear vantage point. Even if it got tiring at a point, Dust 2 was the perfect map for Counter-Strike. It¡¯s simple design roughly resembled the kanji for ¡®rice field¡¯ (Ìï). A 2x2 square that could be easily remembered by even the newest of Counter-Strike players. It was by far the most famous thing about the series. It was so iconic that there¡¯s versions of it in virtually every game that lets you host custom maps. There are versions of the map you can play on Roblox or Minecraft. Any bootleg version of Counter-Strike is bound to have its own version of Dust 2. As someone who spent half of his life playing the game, playing Dust 2 was like hearing a good song for the thousand time¡ªeventually it¡¯s gonna get old.


    Overlay of de_dust2 with common callouts by me. I also added the green areas for where Terrorists and Counter-Terrorists spawn, red areas for where terrorists can plant the bomb, and shadded areas to indidcate walls or covered areas. While other Counter-Strike maps have changed drastically as the years, Dust 2 has stayed the same. This overlay could also be used for CS:S or even 1.6 (original CS). It¡¯s the least ¡®technical¡¯ map there is¨Cthere¡¯s a reason why it¡¯s the most played map by new players.


    Yes, I realize that this that this map is incomplete, missing boxes on both A and B site, among other areas, and isn¡¯t a complete list of callouts. I wanted to only include the essentials for this. Let¡¯s be honest, no one in a silver game is going to call out ¡®Goose¡¯ or ¡®Fence¡¯. I also realize that I should¡¯ve just posted a callout map from the Internet, but I¡¯d rather not risk violating some copyright rules for a silly reason. This overlay¡¯s only use is to familiarize those who are not familiar with Counter-Strike.


    <hr>


    As I was loading into the map, I got a call from Violet on Discord. Guess she took me muting her stream personally.


    When I joined, she said ¡°Hey!¡± in a slightly quieter voice this time. I didn¡¯t know what was her deal with trying to get me to talk¨CI responded with another [¡®hey¡¯] in the DM. She quickly replied with ¡°You can talk you know!¡±


    Uhh, I don¡¯t think it is. She¡¯s being haphazard right now. But, if she really thought it was okay, then I might as well respond. Respond in my own way.


    ¡°Hello chat,¡± my voice, sounding like a squeaker, must had radiated throughout the stream, because the chat immediately started spamming things like:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">[¡®is roomie-chan a girl???¡¯]</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">[¡®that is NOT Francis¡¯s roomie.¡¯]</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">[¡®he sounds so different from last time lol¡¯]</li>


    </ul>


    I still had reservations about potentially revealing any more information about myself, but it seemed that the falsetto was working. It was a risky move on Violet¡¯s part, because I did have a public-facing job. Even if my job was bottom of the barrel.


    Violet herself laughed in a way I hadn¡¯t heard before. ¡°Hahaha, what kind of voice is that?¡± Chiding me for whatever reason. It¡¯s the voice that¡¯ll save your skin and my identity.


    <hr>


    Before we knew it, the game started. We started on the Counter-Terrorist side. Since she had everyone in-game muted, I was unofficially the middleman for her and the three randoms and vice versa.


    Two of the randoms said ¡°hey¡± as soon as the game started. I responded with a ¡°good evening¡± in the same high-pitched voice I used on stream. I used a different key to talk in-game and on Discord, so Violet¡¯s stream wouldn¡¯t hear me talking to them.


    There probably was little reason to make myself sound younger, but I was hedging my bets against potentially being matched with someone who was stream-sniping. In the games we played before this stream, I never thought about doing this, which might¡¯ve been a problem if I spoke any more than basic callouts and intel. It wasn¡¯t like Violet ever told her fans when she was playing CS:GO off-stream, so the chance of a fan dropping in was almost none. Now was different.


    Violet and I were going B. Our two speaking randoms, who were also in a party together, went A. The final random, who had only said [¡°glhf¡±] in all chat, watched ¡®Mid¡¯ from ¡®Double Doors¡¯. Thankfully we didn¡¯t have any issue choosing where we were going¨Cthose who have played competitive CS:GO know how territorial players can be about their preferred positions.


    Violet, still not that used to positioning, usually would set up shop at ¡®Back Plat¡¯ or on ¡®B Site¡¯. They weren¡¯t bad positions, but I had to remind her that she should switch it up so she didn¡¯t become predictable. Giving her that advice made me vary my position round by round as well. In the past, I had occasionally fallen into the trap of being very predictable and going to the same place every round. It was okay as long the Terrorists never caught on or found a counter to it. But as soon as they did, that position had outlived its usefulness. The smart thing would be to move to a different position¨Cbut not all positions were as useful as others. Some spots, often labeled ¡®gay spot¡¯ by players that were killed from there, could catch your opponents by surprise. They would only be useful for that round however, since any player worth their salt would be very wary of that spot until the game finished. Spots like ¡®Back Plat¡¯, which Violet tended to favor when guarding B Site, were good spots because it was hard to be killed by if your opponents were peeking out of ¡®Upper Tunnels¡¯. They could only see your head, which meant that they had to hit that to kill you. That is, if you weren¡¯t crouching in cover. Compare that to hiding in the right corner near the exit of ¡®Upper Tunnels¡¯. It was a spot that Terrorists often overlooked while executing a B site take, which made it easy for a Counter-Terrorist to hide in plain sight and surprise the Terrorists when the time came. The catch was that there was no cover in the corner, so as soon as you were spotted, you were a dead man walking if their shots didn¡¯t whiff.


    In lower ranks such as Silver, you could get away with playing in these spots more often¨Cplayers in this rank often were limited in how they performed bomb site executions. They knew only basic smokes and flashes, if even that. They also could have a memory of a goldfish. And also be a shitty shot to top it all off. Those were the easiest kills. Any player that knew better would always pre-nade or pre-molly that spot as in order to prevent you from hiding there again, or pop-flash out so you had no time to turn around. It was a high-risk/high-reward scenario.


    <hr>


    The first ten rounds went as usual¨Cwe won pistol round, but were caught off guard by a second-round ¡®Mid to B¡¯ rush. The Terrorists took a gamble and bought upgraded pistols and armor instead of saving for next round, and killed our silent random who was watching Mid. While they did ping that there were Terrorists Mid, I had no idea that the whole team was there, and that they were coming at Violet and I like a herd of turds. I peeked out from ¡®Window¡¯ to try to spray them down with my MP9, but I made the critical mistake of forgetting that I was too far away to hit them accurately. Two P250 shots, one to the head and one to my chest, were all it took to kill me. I completely whiffed and now every Terrorist was on their way to overwhelm Violet on B Site.


    The difficulty of having to make two separate callouts each time I wanted to made it hard to effectively tell everyone on my team information. I told Violet first, which caused her to hide in the back of B Plat. Then I told our two talking randoms on A. Both times I said it like a castrado. It was super annoying to do, but it is what it is. We lost that round pretty handly. Violet did manage to surprise them and kill two while they were planting. Good on her for making what could have been a terrible round only a bad round.


    After that, we traded rounds almost every round¨Cwe were tied 5-5 at this point. In order to help our silent friend at mid, I sometimes hung around if I smelled even a small chance of the Terrorists doing the same thing they did on the second round. Our A hold was on lock when the Terrorists tried to go ¡®A Long¡¯. After being utterly humiliated twice trying to go on A that route, they decided to go through ¡®Cat Walk¡¯ instead, which proved to be a better choice for them. They knew how to smoke ¡®XBox¡¯, which blocked vision for those who were watching mid. Our Mid guy never called out smokes, so it was up to me to say ¡®they smoked XBox, watch for Short A push¡¯ using my squeaker voice. One could rush to A in order to stop the Short A push, but there was no telling if that was even what the Terrorists were doing. They could always fake it and go Long A, or even go through ¡®Tunnels¡¯ and go B. If I was at A and got fooled, it would take me a good 15 seconds to get back on B. By that time, if Violet didn¡¯t manage to hold them back, the chances of retaking the site and winning the round were slim to none.


    At the beginning of the eleventh round, our silent teammate randomly disconnected, which threw us into a timeout. The timeout was two minutes long, which gave us all time to rest. Violet and I had really nothing to talk about, so I let her talk to the chat during this intermission.


    Thirty seconds into the timeout, I randomly got a question from ¡®Coach McGuirk¡¯, one of the randoms¨C¡°hey orange, is there a reason why purple hasn¡¯t talked this whole game?¡±. By ¡®Orange¡¯ and ¡®Purple¡¯, he meant the colors we assigned to ourselves. I was ¡®Orange¡¯, and Violet was of course ¡®Purple¡¯. Coach McGuirk was ¡®Red¡¯ by the way. Way easier than saying his full name.


    Not wanting to make things more complicated than they already were, I made up a lie.


    ¡°She¡¯s my younger sister, her mic broke earlier today so she can¡¯t talk¡­¡±


    Surprisingly, McGuirk bought my lie, saying ¡°uh huh, I see¡­I wasn¡¯t trying to complain¡­I was just curious since you two are partied together¡­heh, you don¡¯t always see two sisters playing together, glad no one¡¯s been giving you grief¡­¡± Unlike the guy he named himself after, he didn¡¯t go off on too long of a tangent.


    ¡°We let the shooting do the talking for us¡­.¡± I had no idea why I said that, considering that I was only pretending to be Violet¡¯s big sister as to not reveal my actual voice. It must have been passable enough since McGuirk, his party member ¡®FraGG¡¯, or the random, who was named ¡®silver surfer¡¯, hadn¡¯t brought anything up.


    ¡°Hah, that¡¯s what I like to hear¡± remarked McGuirk¨Cthe moment after that, our silent random rejoined. They had nothing else to say other than ¡®sorry internet cut out for a sec¡¯ in chat. After that, the game continued.


    <hr>


    After the continuation, we won eight rounds in a row¨Cthe last five on the Counter-Terrorist side, and the first three on the Terrorist side. It was now 13-5, with us only needing three more rounds to win for the game to be over.


    Another timeout happened when a player on the other team disconnected. I wasn¡¯t surprised honestly since they were complaining about our silent random ¡®turning on hacks¡¯ after they returned from their disconnect. It was true that they were doing way better than before the disconnect, but there wasn¡¯t anything obvious by their playstyle to suggest that they were hacking. That being said, I hadn¡¯t got the chance to properly spectate them since he came back, since I had only died twice in those eight rounds. On the Terrorist side, where we usually stuck together more often, there was nothing off about the way they moved. No sudden snaps or him spinning around. If they were hacking, they were doing a good job at making it not obvious.


    Apparently, the hacking was so obvious to some on the other team that the player who disconnected a few seconds ago abandoned the game. They only got a 30-minute cooldown, suggesting that they weren¡¯t always this flippant¡­who knows. After that, a surrender vote started on the other team, and the game ended like that. What an anti-climatic ending.


    Violet, who had done fairly well, ranked up from Silver Elite to Silver Elite Master. She was now one step away from obtaining her first Gold Nova star, which would fully show that she wasn¡¯t just any noob anymore¨Cshe was a noob with game sense.


    She was jubilant that she ranked up. While silver rankings weren¡¯t a huge deal, this was the first CS:GO steam she had done in a long time. The difference of skill showed, albeit still being at a beginner level, had stepped up dramatically. That wasn¡¯t lost upon her fans, who I imagine were congratulating her in chat. Violet wasn¡¯t that good at video games, even if she played them every day.


    After we went back to the lobby, I congratulated her on her rank-up, then I told Violet that this was the only game I was going to play tonight. To be honest, I could play at least a few more, but the logistics of everything were a bit exhausting. Using two key binds to talk was one thing, but having to use a falsetto for thirty minutes straight was a completely different thing. It was a wonder that I didn¡¯t either use the wrong key bind or use the wrong voice. Needless to say, it was too much work to want to do often. If I did this again, I would have to set up a voice changer for myself so everything would go smoother.


    <hr>


    Her stream ended not soon after that. It wasn¡¯t that long of a stream. Sometimes streams were short like that. CS:GO was such an intense game that I understood if she wanted to stop for now. Sometimes Michael did that. Personally, I¡¯d rather just have one big stream and play multiple games, but I knew that for clarity¡¯s sake, they needed to do separate streams for each game.


    I messaged Violet on Discord telling her good job again. She replied [¡°thanks! it was very hard but we won and i ranked up!! im a master now!!!¡±]. She seemed to be as ecstatic as she was on-stream. She had to be the only happy person playing CS:GO.


    As for me personally, I wasn¡¯t that keen on continuing to play CS:GO nearly every night as I had been for the last week. There was a reason why I didn¡¯t play it that much anymore. Other than Violet, I didn¡¯t have anyone else to play with, and I was only able to play with her on this alternative account I made a week ago. On my main, she would have to find three other people to party with in order for us to play together competitively. At the very least, she had another game she could stream weekly that wouldn¡¯t get old. CS:GO was a weird example of a game that only got more popular with age. Back when I was most active, the player count never exceeded half a million¨Cbut now over a million people concurrently play it every day. It helped that CS:GO was a free game now, but its continuing popularity stunned me. Over the years, there have been many proclamations that ¡®CS:GO is a dead game¡¯. I thought it would take a hit when Valorant came out, but instead, both games flourished. I¡¯m glad it didn¡¯t take a hit, because I do not gel with Valorant at all. It wasn¡¯t the worst game I¡¯ve ever played, but I liked the movement and feeling of CS:GO more.


    Curious, I asked Violet if it was really okay for her to tell the audience that we have been playing together, and to even go as far as to let me play a game with her. The reaction in chat was positive, but those in chat were her biggest supporters. They would almost be supportive no matter what she said or did. They¡¯re fanatics, but not obsessive. What I was worried about was those who lurked but didn¡¯t chat. The antisocial watchers. The ones that watch Violet every stream and are obsessed with her. The ones that had nothing else in life other than watching Violet stream. The ones that would have their world fall apart if she even hinted at having a boyfriend. The ones that called her a ¡®whore¡¯ for assumptions that only circulated on imageboards. I know they existed¨CVTuber culture and Idol culture are spitting images of each other. There were some companies that allowed their VTubers to date, but in this case, AnyClover was old-fashioned. Michael wasn¡¯t allowed to publically date anyone. Not that it seemed that he wanted to. Any time he ever talked about anyone affectionately, it was a fictional woman from a game he was playing. I assumed it was the same for Violet, with her being excluded to only thirst over fictional characters publically. Not that she ever did that¨Cshe seemed to be asexual, for lack of a better word. If anything, she still was giving vibes of a ¡®girl who loves girls¡¯. That being said, someone like me though was real. Yes, I was part of the ¡®Francis Lore¡¯ at this point, but to be on speaking terms with other VTubers and play with them ¡®offline¡¯ was a completely different thing than being a reoccurring character on my roommate¡¯s stream. Especially when the VTuber you¡¯re playing with is quite possibly the most feminine and definitely the cutest VTuber of the group. Violet and I had no relations other than ¡®CS:GO Duos¡¯, but there were probably those who resented the fact that she even spoke to a man, even if it was one of her male genmates. How would they react to this? I only thought about this so much because I¡¯ve spent many days arguing with people like this on imageboards. Mostly as a teen, but I still occasionally lurked on those sites. I knew 4chan had a ¡®Virtual YouTubers¡¯ board¨CI only went on it once, about a year ago, before I really ¡®got¡¯ why people watched them. As with every other 4chan board, most of the threads were either general threads or ¡®rrats¡¯ using the board as their soapbox to spew whatever nonsense they came up with today. About half of that nonsense was calling a female VTuber a whore. Why? I never found out, since the OP never went beyond bitching about the ¡®drop of quality in content¡¯, and then fans of said VTuber came in and told OP to kill himself. Those who¡¯ve had the misfortune of going on imageboards know the routine.


    I wasn¡¯t worried about myself in particular. I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m not afraid of being harassed by anyone because 99% of my digital footprint was either long-since-deleted 4chan posts or posts on dead forums that would qualify as lost media at this point. I was known as ¡®roomie-chan¡¯ and ¡®roommate¡¯, they had nothing else to go off of other than my yelp, my shitty handwriting, and my voice pitched up. If anyone was after me, they would¡¯ve confronted me at work already. I wasn¡¯t that worried about Michael either, because he never seemed to be worried about it either. We lived in a place that was particularly hard to be stalked from. There were no areas where someone could park a white van and hide until the time was right. There were no places to hide. You were out in the open¨Ceven if we lived in a rural area, we had neighbors to every side of us. Neighbors that probably wouldn¡¯t be too keen on a stranger camping out in their yard. It had to be one of the reasons why Michael moved here in the first place. It was Violet who I was concerned about. How could I not? Unlike Michael and I, I had no assurance that she would be safe from any insane fan. I had no idea what she looked like, but I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she was south of a hundred pounds, barely tall enough to ride roller coasters, and had no way of defending herself. Maybe she lived with her family or had roommates of her own, but I had no idea. She seemed like a person that cared a lot about her audience. Her audience, at least the ones in chat, would be supportive of her no matter what, but there was always the possibility of her being barraged on social media about random shit. From sock-puppet accounts and various types of anti-social losers that don¡¯t matter whatsoever, but still, hate is hate. It gets to people, especially when your career rides on pleasing your audience. While it was never explicit, Violet seemed to fall under the category of a ¡®GFE¡¯ (Girlfriend Experience) VTuber. Personally, I didn¡¯t know how that worked. Sharing a fake girlfriend with thousands of others seemed like a miserable time, but I guess it was possible to pretend others weren¡¯t there. That would require actively avoiding chat, something that¡¯s impossible if the VTuber is actively talking with them. I guess stick to the ASMR streams? I don¡¯t think Violet even did ASMR, but I knew she was easy bait for lonely men. I mean, how could she not be? She was a real sweetheart and overall a nice girl. Perfect for men (and women, but mainly men) who had not much going on in their lives and had little to zero luck with women in real life. As someone who hasn¡¯t had much luck either, I empathized with ¡®forever alone¡¯ men to a certain extent, but they lose me when they start calling women that have had sex once a slut or whatever. While they could hide around ¡®the fall of the west¡¯ or wanting to ¡®return to tradition¡¯, it all boiled down to that they found it too hard to get laid. Sexual hangups. They were mad that they had no control over women, and went online to express those urges. Those who obsessed over VTubers like Violet to that point tended to be less ideologically motivated than, say, the Roman bust avatar people on Twitter, but they might as well be the same person when it comes to women. To them, anything as minor as ¡®playing video games with a man¡¯ was akin to going on the casting couch. Most of these people were paper tigers. They were fickle, bitter, angry people that hardly meant what they said. They were all talk, but talk can still get to people. And there¡¯s no telling if one of them was actually so far gone as to dedicate their lives to making Violet¡¯s life miserable because she ¡®betrayed¡¯ them. These were the thoughts that suddenly came rushing to my head.


    [¡°idk. if it was my manager wouldve already told me.¡±]


    It was a more levelheaded answer than I expected. The fact that she didn¡¯t seem concerned at all did alleviate some of the fears I had. If she wasn¡¯t worried, then I had no reason to be as well. Violet might be a ¡®smol bean¡¯, but she was also an adult that had free will. In reality, it was AnyClover¡¯s call, and if they didn¡¯t have her manager telling her to stop, then there wasn¡¯t an issue.


    The next message was even less diffusing:


    [¡°also, u dont have to talk like that on stream. Unless if u want to. lol¡±]


    Huh, so all that effort was for nothing. Okay. Guess I¡¯m making a mountain out of a molehill.


    Wanting to move on from a heavy topic, I changed the subject to a more important matter:


    [¡°When are you going to play RollerCoaster Tycoon 3 on stream again?¡±]


    <hr>


    ON AN IMAGEBOARD THAT MANY BROWSE AND FEW CLAIM TO KNOW ABOUT¡­


    THREAD: /anyEN/ - AnyClover EN General


    Anonymous - No. 47963252


    That game Violet just played with Francis¡¯s roomie was strange. Safe to say that


    roomie¡¯s voice doesn¡¯t actually sound like that.


    Anonymous - No. 47963298


    >>47963252 yeah it was weird. i dont like my tubers to play with men but it oddly


    did not bother me. maybe because of whatever voice changer she used. dont want him on again but would rather have him than someone not affiliated with anyclover


    Anonymous - No. 47963312


    >current year


    >watching AnyCoper


    kek


    Anonymous - No. 47963358


    >>47963252 >>47963298 i was in the game with then¡­he pitched his voice up


    so as to mask his real voice. i could tell he was faking it, but our retard


    teammates couldnt tell. i was recording the game so i could start tracking him down, but his steam account is privated and he never broke character.i got bored and eventually started walling. csgo sucks


    Anonymous - No. 47963399


    >>47963312 If nijilive is so much better than AnyClover then why do you spend


    all your time shitting up our thread? Kys


    Anonymous - No. 47963486


    >>47963358 Wait. He really used the same voice in game? That¡¯s too good. You


    have to admit that he outsmarted you. Why do you care about him in the first


    place? If you¡¯re worried about Violet¡¯s virginity, then I have some bad news for you buddy. I already fucked her. She suck me good

 The Division of Labor

    Living out in the boonies, you get the benefit of peace and quiet, with the caveat that it took a lot more upkeep. Our house was a doublewide manufactured home, which tended to fall apart after thirty years. We¡¯re at year twenty-eight according to Zillow, and it sure shows. The white siding was turning yellow and green in places where it got rained on, the underpin with more cracks than bricks at this point, and the back door took the entirety of your strength to shut. And that¡¯s to name a few. You can see the stars at night, something I didn¡¯t have the luxury of when I was living with my parents. The best upside of living here is that I had enough privacy to be able to pee in the backyard without fearing that someone would see me. Not that I¡¯ve ever done that. Yet.


    Michael, as with most VTubers, is a homebody. While he has a car, he rarely drives it around. He never comes back home with anything other than liquor, which is for his occasional ¡®drunk streams¡¯. Having to do your job drunk sounds like a nightmare, but Michael seems to enjoy it enough to have done it more than once. He spends most of his time talking during these ¡®drunk streams¡¯. Functionally they were an unlabeled zatsudan.


    With groceries, I was the one that got them. Since I was the person with a job in town, it was only natural. Michael, thankfully, usually hands me his card and tells me something like ¡®go wild¡¯. I really should go wild, but usually, the craziest I get is buying a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon for myself. Maybe some Coors Banquet as well. Hell, maybe even Modelo or Red Stripe. The only thing Michael tells me to get, other than things related to his streams, is tea bags¨Cblack, green, oolong, chamomile, you name it. He¡¯s a real tea-head. He¡¯s so known for it on-stream that his chat likes to say that he¡¯s ¡°sipping the tea¡± when he forgets to mute and takes an audible slurp, something that happens often enough to be noted. The joke is a bit contrived to me, but to be fair, he IS sipping tea. Sipping the shit out of it.


    As for food, it was divided into three categories: the first sixty percent came from Michael¡¯s DoorDash addiction. One thing about being a VTuber is that it really enables you to never have to step outside of your comfort zone, or outside in general, if you¡¯re financially successful from it. That¡¯s probably true for most work-from-home jobs though, but I digress. He ordered from DoorDash 1.5 times a day if I had to guess¨Cusually ordering like three servings of whatever he felt like at the moment. He never ate more than like half of what he ordered (VTubers don¡¯t really do mukbangs from what I know. I¡¯m glad because that shit is nasty.) The rest was either put in the fridge or offered to me. It¡¯s one of the best perks of moving here. It does make me wonder if he ordered that much before I moved in¨Cconsidering that I¡¯m the first roommate that he¡¯s had in this house, it worries me about the potential amount of wasted food. The second category, which was food that I made or bought, only comprised about thirty-eight percent of the food in the house. This was the food I brought home and the meals I made myself. I wasn¡¯t that much of a chef¨CI only learned how to cook spaghetti this year. Michael was abysmal, which had to be a reason why he relied so much on delivery apps. Grilling is relatively easy, but I haven¡¯t had the time to cook on the grill outside yet. I don¡¯t even know if it works. I¡¯m surprised that Michael hasn¡¯t used it for a cooking stream yet. The last two percent, which was the food Michael made (usually for his stream), was cooked on the stove or in the oven. He tried to have a cooking stream at least once a month¨Chaving to cook enough to have three or so hours of content, which means there are a lot of leftovers. He wasn¡¯t the worst cook in the world, but his cooking always looked like it was the first time he did it. When he made several different types of eggs, most of the ¡®different types¡¯ ended up being scrambled and charred. About half of the pancakes he cooked on Valentine¡¯s Day had no bend to them. You could knock someone out with them. You see, Michael tends to get lost in thought talking to his chat, forgetting about what he¡¯s cooking until it¡¯s too late. Off-stream, I couldn¡¯t imagine it being better. Amazingly he¡¯s never caught anything on fire¨Csomething that might change if he ever decides to use the grill.


    Michael and I both keep our respective rooms relatively tidy¨Cwith Michael preferring to keep it clean due to it also being his workspace. He told me that a few of his genmates are known for never cleaning up after themselves, with one of them being forced to clean their room after ants invaded it. Apparently, they thought that throwing cans of Red Bull under their desk instead of in the trash was okay because, and I quote, ¡°they didn¡¯t have any sugar in them¡±. I hope she never comes over for an ¡®offline collab¡¯. He refused to name her, but I¡¯m sure sleuths can figure it out. Anyways, since our area didn¡¯t have trash collectors that came by, we had to dump it ourselves. Being the one that steps outside more than once a week, I¡¯m the one that takes the weekly trip to the ¡®Recycling Center¡¯. It¡¯s not that huge of a deal since there¡¯s more than one on the way to work. It only takes about a minute to drop the trash off¨Cthat is, unless there¡¯s a queue of vehicles there when I arrive. Before I started living here, Michael used to leave his trash outside, only going to the dump about once a month. Michael¡¯s concerns about cleanliness and tidiness ended the moment he went out the door.


    As I moved here during the New Year, I haven¡¯t had to deal with cutting the grass yet. Our house is situated in the middle of a plot of land that was about the size of a football field.  Our house came with a shed, which had a lawn mower in it that was pretty nice all things considered. It was The Landlord¡¯s and was there on the condition that ¡®we keep the lawn looking good¡¯. When I was signing the lease, The Landlord told me that I was a ¡®lifesaver¡¯ for agreeing to cut the lawn. It wasn¡¯t in writing, but this was a huge concern for her, saying that an unkept lawn was one of her ¡®highest¡¯ pet peeves. Michael, who had been living here for the last year, had only cut the lawn once during that timespan. That was only after months of neglect, which culminated in Miss Landlord barging in the front door and demanding Michael do it¨Conly about five minutes before he was going to start his daily stream. Of course, Michael had to postpone his stream and was obliged to cut the grass. According to The Landlord, Michael was ¡®clueless¡¯ and ¡®almost blew up¡¯ the lawnmower by starting it. I don¡¯t know how you do that, but according to Michael, ¡°it¡¯s very hard to start¡±. And that wasn¡¯t the only issue. Originally, Michael only cut the front yard, because he thought that it was all that mattered, which drew the ire of Miss Landlord, who wanted EVERYTHING cut. This yard wasn¡¯t that big, but with neglect, it probably took Michael and The Landlord twice as long as it should to cut it all. Tall grass sometimes needs to be run over twice to look good. Needless to say, it was Michael¡¯s introduction to what having a white mother was like. Well, The Landlord was a bit peculiar, but she also had that chip on her shoulder that many women around here have for some reason.


    After that fiasco, Michael started having a landscaping company come by and cut the lawn. They charged like a hundred bucks for each cut though, and while Michael had more than enough to afford such a luxury, I didn¡¯t mind being the grass cutter. It¡¯s just like riding a go-kart. Plus, I was used to cutting lawns already, as it was a quick way to gain money from family members when I was a child. The Landlord couldn¡¯t fathom why he would ¡®waste his money like that¡¯¡ªas I said, she was peculiar.


    With renovations, the Landlord told me to call her. She had a lot of tools in the shed that held the lawn mower, owing to the fact that it was her house at one point. Apparently, she won the lottery a few years ago, and only kept this house because she didn¡¯t want to sell it. Personal sentiment if I had to guess. She didn¡¯t want it to be left unoccupied, so she rented it out. Michael and I were her only tenants at this point, so she didn¡¯t really have a lot on her plate landlord-wise. The only reason why she¡¯s so insistent on doing renovations herself is that she wants to save money, which is hilarious considering she quite literally won the Powerball Jackpot. For those who aren¡¯t familiar, it means she won anywhere from tens of millions of dollars to over a few hundred million dollars. About half of it would be taxed out, but that¡¯s still a lot of fucking money to win. I personally wanted to know how much she won, but it would be rude to ask so up-front.


    The Landlord spent most of her time at her house in Hawaii, and only some of it back in this area. Since she doesn¡¯t have to anymore, she spends a lot of her free time doing DIY projects, which is mostly why she¡¯s more than willing to fix problems around the house herself rather than pay a professional. Knowing that not only does she have the money to have professionals fix issues quickly, but Michael does too, is annoying, but I¡¯m not arguing. Especially only paying $600 a month. It might go up if she doesn¡¯t get her way with her little projects!


    <hr>


    I wasn¡¯t expecting to cut the grass sooner than expected, but it had been a relatively warm March so far. And with the torrential rainfall that happened a few days ago, the grass had grown to a cutting size. Well, not in my opinion, but in the Landlords.


    During the downpour, the gutter at the far end of the house, adjacent to Michael¡¯s room, bent forward and became warped, dumping water on the ground below. At first, this seemed like it wouldn¡¯t be an issue, but considering that there was going to be a constant dripping noise outside of one of his rooms during and after it rains, I believe that he would want to get it fixed as soon as possible. He would agree as well once he sees it. It must be a bitch to mix that out of your stream.


    For issues such as this, there was no need to call a professional and pay to get this repaired. While the gutter was warped, it could be rectified by putting in new screws. This was, I later found out, the third time this had happened. Those gutters were more than likely at the end of their life span¨Cor at least the screws holding them in were. The fix for this was simpler than it seemed. All you need is a ladder tall enough to reach the gutter. Then you needed a drill and a screw to secure the gutter to the house. It was a relatively simple fix if you had the tools, and thankfully Miss Landlord had thousands of dollars worth of them in the shed. There were three ladders in there, the middle one being the one needed to fix the gutter. The drill and screws we needed were in there as well. At least according to her, they were.


    Miss Landlord happened to be in town at the time and was going to come by eventually anyway. Me shooting her a message with a photo of the damaged gutter probably moved that visit up a few days. She was coming by tomorrow morning to fix the gutter and anything else that looked wrong in her eye. She never told me a time, but I¡¯m not working nor have plans so I have all day.


    <hr>


    I was awoken by a sharp bang on the door at around 7 AM the next day. I had no idea who the hell would be at our door that early in the morning¡­


    Opening the door, I saw a bright and ready face¨C


    ¡°About time someone came to the door! I was about to walk in since none of y¡¯all wanted to get up!¡± It was Miss Landlord, who despite not ever having to work another day in her life, was ready to tackle the day at the buttcrack of dawn like it was her livelihood.


    With her radiant glow, along with the sun rising behind her piercing my eyes, I woke up suddenly. ¡°Nice to see you Miss Landlord¡± I replied.


    Like I asked her weight, she suddenly soured and said ¡°I already told you, don¡¯t call me ¡®Miss¡¯. It makes me feel old. Just call me Jean.¡± Oh yeah, I forgot since the last time we talked was months ago, but Miss Landlord¨CI mean Jean, seemed to hate it when people addressed her with honorifics. I guess I¡¯ll call her Jean from now on, just in case she reads this. I¡¯m sorry for forgetting!


    While I made myself a cup of coffee, Jean went around the back of the house to look at the twisted gutter.


    Visual of the damaged gutter. Whenever it rains, the water overflows from the gutter and spills on the siding, which is how the algae (the light green) forms.


    By time I was done brewing my coffee, she had already opened the door to the shed. She was getting a ladder out, assumingly for the gutter. She wasn¡¯t one for dilly-dallying.


    Walking towards her, she told me to ¡®grab that box on the counter¡¯ in the shed. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I assumed it was the cardboard box that had three drills and a ton of loose screws in it.


    Carrying the box, I placed it on the ground, along with my coffee¨CJean was done setting the ladder up, and wanted me to keep it held so it wouldn¡¯t slip from under her. It seemed like an easy enough job.


    ¡°Can you hand me the DeWalt and some screws?¡± I knew that DeWalt used yellow for their color schemes, but I had no idea what kind of screws she wanted. I grabbed a handful of them and gave them to her.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to hand me so many screws¡­¡± she muttered¨Cshe was right, but I had no idea what would be the correct screw to ¡®fix¡¯ the gutter.


    After some fiddling with the drill, Jean got started with drilling ¡®new¡¯ screws in. I actually had no idea if they were new, but I wasn¡¯t going to question it. Holding the ladder required nothing more than placing my feet diagonally beside the bottom, ensuring that it would not slide from underneath her. One hand held the ladder while the other was holding my coffee, half drank. It was perfectly stable already, but better safe than sorry.


    I got a buzz from my phone¨CI looked and took a peak at it¨Cit said:


    [¡°do u know what that noise outide is?¡±]


    I guess the noise had woken Michael up. Well, really it was an inevitability. We were on the side of the house he occupied. It did make me wonder if he even helped our landlord when she came. I highly doubt it. I was going to reply when I heard ¡°Goddamn it, work bitch!¡± screamed from above¨CJean was talking to her drill. Rather, giving it the hairdryer treatment.


    ¡°Uh¡­is everything okay?¡± There wasn¡¯t much I could do down here, but I would rather not have my landlord fighting with a tool. Not before 8 in the morning. It¡¯s never good when someone on a ladder is angry.


    Jean sighed, took a deep breath, and said ¡°Yes, everything¡¯s fine¡­sorry.¡± I didn¡¯t know if she was apologizing to me or her drill¨Cif anything, DeWalt should be apologizing to her for all the trouble their drill was causing. I didn¡¯t know what the issue was, but it seemed like it solved itself since she was able to start drilling again.


    [¡°landlord is here¡±] He should know that already since I told him yesterday¡­he replied with [¡°oh ok¡±]. He could at least ask if he could help out. Not that I was expecting him to, but it would be nice. Not sure what purpose it would be for two men to hold one ladder unless we were doing our take on that one Polack joke.


    <hr>


    About five minutes later, we were done fixing the gutter. It wasn¡¯t ¡®perfect¡¯, but water would not pour out anymore anytime it rained. I was just glad that it was on Michael¡¯s side of the house and not mine. It would be annoying to have to hear that every time it rains. I can only chalk it up to his laziness as to why Michael hadn¡¯t even complained about it once.


    Jean seemed like she wanted to do other things around the house that I didn¡¯t know of, but she gave me the right away to go ahead and mow the lawn.


    ¡°Really. Now?¡±


    I was still of the opinion that it was unnecessary to cut the grass right now. While it had rained buckets a few days prior, it wasn¡¯t like the grass was overflowing. In my humble opinion, next week would be a better starting point. The grass would be long enough then.


    ¡°Yes. Now.¡± The Landlord had a stern look that would take no for an answer, but would be disappointed by it. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do it, but if you won¡¯t, I will.¡± Part of me wanted her to tone it down, but considering she had to deal with Michael¡¯s shenanigans last year, she had reason to be authoritative.


    ¡°Well, when you put it that way¡­¡± Cutting grass isn¡¯t hard. A child could do it. It was a bit early in the day, but on the flip side, it still was relatively nice outside. The sun had started to warm the crust of the Earth. The remaining dew on the ground was vanishing, making the blades of grass prime to be trimmed. I didn¡¯t want to admit it, but it was the perfect time.


    ¡°Give me a few minutes to get ready, then I¡¯ll start cutting.¡± The day was still young, and it wasn¡¯t like I had anything better to do. The Landlord simply nodded and went back towards the shed.


    <hr>


    My pajamas and work outside clothes were the same¨Ca white T-shirt and athletic shorts. The only thing I needed to put on was a hat and headphones. Also, I needed to grab my water bottle. I had drank my coffee up and needed something that would keep me cool.


    The lawn mower in the building wasn¡¯t that old¨Cit wasn¡¯t one of those state-of-the-art zero-turn mowers, but it did not look thirty years old nor was a push mower. While I was inside, Jean had topped off the gas (there was a nearly full 5-gallon gas canister in the shed) and was checking the oil when I came back. After triple-checking it, she let me get the show on the road.


    I felt like this was one of my first steps into ¡®boomerhood¡¯, mowing the lawn before 9 in the morning. Normally I would wait until the late afternoon to cut, but since I¡¯m already out here there was no reason not to do it. If I waited a few hours, then I would be at the mercy of the Sun. Also, there¡¯s a good chance I would be on Jean¡¯s shitlist if I procrastinated with it. A hundred dollars increase in rent for each hour I didn¡¯t do it I imagine.


    The plot of land Michael and I lived on was quite huge for two homebodies. It was almost an acre big¨Cplenty of room to do activities. The land was unused, other than resting the house we lived in. If I had to guess, this land used to be farmland, which meant that other than cows and whatever Jean did with it, it hadn¡¯t been used much. Realistically Michael had ample room to do outdoor streams if he wanted to. He had a month or two before it became too hot to do those. That is, if he had any interest. I don¡¯t think he did.


    Overview of our residence. The brown areas are areas that I wasn¡¯t going to cut, either because scrubs were in the way, plants were¡­planted there, or because there was a mailbox in the way. The rex box to the left was where the shed was, and the one on the right was where the cars were parked. Not drawn to scale. Trees in yard not included.


    Starting the lawn mower wasn¡¯t that hard thankfully. I always had a fear that I would blow the engine up whenever I did anything that resembled a crank start¨Cthankfully this only took one turn of the keys and one press of the clutch to start.


    Cutting grass is mindless work, especially when the grass you are cutting is on a flat piece of land. Besides maneuvering around the mailbox and a few trees, there wasn¡¯t that much difficulty to it. It was quite literally a go-kart with blades on the bottom. While cutting grass seemed boring, the rhythmic pace allowed me to enter a flow state. If nothing went wrong, I would be done before I knew it. Plus, I had my headphones with me.


    <hr>


    Fast forward around 90 minutes later, the grass was finally cut to a proper length. Thankfully since it was still before noon, I didn¡¯t sweat up a storm. I was in a trance to the point where I didn¡¯t even check my phone the whole time. I had a small backlog of Formula 1 news podcasts to listen to. The season had just started, but it already looked like Max Verstappen was going to win another championship. No need to bore you with the details.


    When I finally hopped off, I checked my phone instinctively¨CI was greeted with a few messages:


    Stolen story; please report.


    [¡°is there a way u can turn down the lawnmower¡±]


    [¡°please¡±]


    [¡°seriously, its picking up over stream¡±]


    [¡°BRO¡±]


    I kind of assumed that I would wake Michael up when I was cutting near his side of the house, but I didn¡¯t know that he would be streaming at that time¡­it must have been one of his twice-a-day stream days. He always included CEST (Central European Standard Time) and JST (Japanese Standard Time) along with EST (Eastern Standard Time) which made it confusing at times to read. Nevertheless, there wasn¡¯t a way to ¡®turn down¡¯ the lawn mower without cutting the blades off, so he would have to deal with it. It¡¯s done for now. I wasn¡¯t going to bother with a response.


    Right when I was going back to the shed to get ready to put the mower in, Jean came in, grabbed the leaf blower, and went back out. The next thing I know, she was using the blower to blow the clumps of grass off it. It was electric, so she didn¡¯t have to crank it. It was quieter but less powerful. Blowing the lawn mower off made sense considering there was still probably dew on it, making it easier to have blades of grass clump up. What I didn¡¯t expect her to do next, after that, was to walk towards the carport and blow everything off there. Not only the grass blades that ended up on the driveway, but the pollen that was on our cars, and whatever was on the porch. She was really a perfectionist when it came to this stuff. You would think she would hire someone to do this with all of the money she had. It¡¯s what I would do.


    If you were wondering what Jean was doing during this time, she was doing an inventory of everything inside the shed and organizing it. Considering that she was the only person that been in there for the last year, it seemed a bit pointless to do, but hey, it¡¯s her stuff.


    Everything looked noticeably cleaner than it did when I was in there an hour earlier, so I¡¯m guessing she also took the time to tidy everything up. One can only imagine how much dust can build up in a building that gets opened only a few times a year.


    Once Jean came back, I asked her if there was anything else that I needed to do¨Cshe responded saying ¡°Not really. Looks like you did a good job cutting the yard¡­better than Mikey. Say, is he even here? I haven¡¯t heard from him at all.¡±


    I just shrugged and said, ¡°I bet he¡¯s trying to sleep through all of this.¡± I was lying, but I didn¡¯t know if she got the concept of what he did for a living in the first place.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m probably going to make his life a little more miserable.¡± she said as she walked towards the mower. She was carrying a tank that looked like it had water in it¨CI asked her what it was and she said it was Roundup. Guess she was going to use the mower to spray it around.


    ¡°While I¡¯m doing the Roundup, if you wanna, go get one of the clippers in the building and cut around the trees that got in your way while cutting the grass.¡± I know she said ¡®wanna¡¯, but I got the sense that she was asking me, in a very passive way, to start doing that. I hated it when I was told to do things in a non-direct way, but at least the task at hand wasn¡¯t that hard. There were many tree branches that I had to dodge while on the mower, it would be better to clip them now rather than later when they grow longer.


    <hr>


    I started with the trees at the edge of the yard. These trees were about thirty feet tall¨Cthey looked like tall shrubs from a distance, but they were in fact trees. They already had a shape that suggested that this was a yearly tradition. A tradition that didn¡¯t happen last year unless if it was her or the landscaping company that Michael hired to clip them. They were not hard branches to cut¡­well, the thin ones weren¡¯t. Those I could technically snap with my bare hands, but it was much faster, and more civilized, to use the trimmers. The thicker branches took a few swipes to cut. Those I did snap with my bare hand if it didn¡¯t look like the trimmers would go through.


    Jean sprayed the Roundup around the edge of the yard first, which let me go behind her and do my trimming without fear of being in her way. She was spending more of her time near the house and in the driveway, where there were cracks in the pavement. I didn¡¯t know what to do with the clippings, so I left them where they dropped for the moment. I knew that she would have a plan for them.


    <hr>


    Thirty minutes later, I was finally done cutting the limbs on the perimeter that I saw needed to get cut. Jean was done doing the Roundup, and put the lawn mower up finally. After that, she got out her own battery-powered pole saw and started trimming down the plants next to the house. Honestly, I wished I had that pole saw because my arms were exhausted from holding up a metal trimmer for that long. It was quite a workout¨Cmy white T-shirt was now drenched in sweat even though it still wasn¡¯t that hot outside.


    I was backtracking where I¡¯ve trimmed to see if I missed any spots. Jean saw me and said ¡°Come here for a second!¡± I was heading that way regardless.


    When I got close enough, I said ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°If you think you¡¯ve done enough cutting, then go ahead and get the wheelbarrow out of the building and put all of the branches in there.¡± The wheelbarrow she was talking about was lying upright beside the ladders.


    Putting away the trimmers, I picked up the wheelbarrow. It was a two-hand operation getting it out of the shed. Not heavy, just wobbly. I went across where I just was and picked up any fallen branch I saw. It took no time for the wheelbarrow to be filled to the brim.


    Driving the wheelbarrow, I walked back towards The Landlord and asked her what should I do with the limbs. She responded, ¡°Find an area back there,¡± pointing around where the middle of the backyard was, ¡°and dump them there. Try to keep it away from the trees.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡± was all I had to say. For someone who described herself as a ¡®clean freak¡¯ when I was touring the place, she didn¡¯t seem to mind getting the yard all cluttered. It took a few trips back and forth, but I eventually got all the limbs I¡¯ve cut down up¡ªit would¡¯ve been nice to have the wheelbarrow to begin with.


    Once I was done dumping them, I trundled back with the wheelbarrow, asking ¡°What¡¯re we gonna do with these limbs? Burn them?¡±


    ¡°Eventually.¡± She said.


    ¡°Eventually?¡± What else did she want to do? And did we even have anything to burn them with? Considering it rained and that I had just cut these things, it wasn¡¯t as simple as lighting them on fire with a match. Some fuel would be needed to start and keep it going.


    ¡°Well, I mean, unless if you wanna go ahead and start it,¡± she stated as she threw some shrub clippings into the wheelbarrow, ¡°I have pine needles coming any time now, so I don¡¯t want to start the fire until I¡¯m done spreading it around. That is, unless you wanna start it yourself.¡±


    To be quite honest, I had no idea what ¡®pine needles¡¯ were¨Cif I had to guess, she was having some kind of mulch delivered to spread where the plants were. To confirm this, I asked ¡°Are pine needles what is around the house?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± She stated matter-of-factly ¡°¡­but I wasn¡¯t able to get around to doing it last year. So now it looks like this¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know that the pine needles laid beside the house were ¡®old¡¯. Personally, I thought that it looked fine already, but I wasn¡¯t going to argue. If she said we needed more, we needed more. It was her property anyway.


    Thinking of a way to help her without doing that much help, I said ¡°I can help you with the pine needles¡ªI can start the fire while we¡¯re waiting for them to be delivered.¡±


    Spreading pine needles couldn¡¯t take that much time. Right? We¡¯ll see when they arrive.


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re going to go ahead and get the fire started,¡± she pointed at the water hose connected to the house, ¡°you should spray the edges with water so it doesn¡¯t spread.¡±


    ¡°Alright, sounds simple enough.¡± I walked towards the hose attached to the side of the house and unraveled it. It was on the side of the house that was Michael¡¯s. His bedroom and one of his spare rooms were adjacent to the driveway. Unlike the lawn mower, he couldn¡¯t hear me unrolling the hose.


    This would be the first time I would be using it¡ªthankfully it had a head already on it so I wouldn¡¯t have to go searching for one in the shed.


    Walking towards the debris pile with the hose, I turned it on¡­at least, I thought I did. There wasn¡¯t any water coming out. Not even a drip.


    ¡°Uhh¡­.¡± I was lost. I turned around and asked ¡°did I do this right?¡±


    Jean, too far away to hear what I said, seemed to already know that something was wrong. She was where the hose was stored and turned the valve below it heavily to the left. ¡°Is it working?¡± she yelled out.


    ¡°No!¡± I yelled back, fidgeting with the hose head, I looked at it head-on. Damn it, don¡¯t break on me. Right as I finished my thought, water started coming out¨Cspraying right on my face. A moneyshot. Very cliche¡­I can¡¯t believe I walked into that.


    <hr>


    After my embarrassing self-headshot, I regrouped and watered all around the debris pile. I understood the motive behind this¨Cthis fire was probably going to go on for a while, and she wasn¡¯t going to be here all day¡­at least I hoped. I wasn¡¯t planning on being outside all day either, so spraying around where the fire would be would be the best measure against having it spread without having to accompany it at all times.


    I left the hose on the ground somewhat near the debris pile just in case it was needed. The Landlord was still chipping away. She had taken the wheelbarrow from me¨Cshe was a bit more liberal with what she cut, shaping plants and shrubs to where there was no possibility of them being in the way. Not that they were in the first place, but she absolutely gave them a haircut. Scalped some.


    <hr>


    Before I could get any further with preparing the debris pile, the pine needles Jean ordered were delivered. She ordered what seemed like twenty bales of them¡ªshe had them laid down in the shade. They weren¡¯t hard to carry¡ªthe hard part was cutting them open. The box cutters we had were quite dull¡ªthey required more than a few swipes to fully unravel.


    Spreading pine needles was easy, menial work. It took only a few bales to cover the back part of the garden and any trees in the middle of the backyard. Jean was doing the lion¡¯s share of the spreading. Jean even handed me gloves to make the task easier. Where were these when I was trimming the trees?


    There were only three areas I needed to cover¡ªbeside the house, and around the perimeter of two trees in the backyard. Spreading around the house was somewhat slow at first, since it was the first time I¡¯ve ever done it. However, by the time I got the second bale I got the hang of it


    The only hard part was avoiding spiders¡ªI wasn¡¯t that scared of them, but I would rather not get bitten by one. And you know how annoying being caught in a web was. It only took like thirty minutes to lay the pine needles down. My shirt was already soaked, so it wasn¡¯t like I was overheating. My water bottle, around 40 ounces, was still half full. Interestingly enough I haven¡¯t had to go to the restroom yet. Guess the pee water had to be converted to sweat water.


    It was bright out by now. High noon. The temperature was around 75 degrees. The wind had picked up, which gave me chills when the gust came. I was done with my part and wanted to get the fire started. I do admit that a part of me wanted to start it just for the hell of it. Another part wanted to start a fire so I would have a line of defense from the wind.


    Jean went ahead and placed everything I needed to start it together outside of the shed. Two bottles of lighter fluid, multiple folded pieces of cardboard, a Bic lighter, and a camping chair was all that was needed. The only thing I needed to do before starting it was to call the ¡®forestry commission¡¯ to put in a notice. According to Jean, we could get in ¡®major trouble¡¯ if we don¡¯t. She didn¡¯t have a number to call, however.


    After a minute of googling, I dialed the 800 number, after a second of silence, a recording of a man stated the following:


    [¡°This is the forestry commission line for general debris burning notification in Pickens County. General debris burning includes all outdoor burning, except fires for forestry, wildlife, and agriculture. If you want to report a fire emergency, or if your burn is specifically for forestry, wildlife, or agriculture, please hang up and dial 1-800-777-FIRE. That¡¯s 1-800-777-3473. Only vegetative debris can be burned unless if you obtain prior approval from the South Carolina Department of Health and Environmental Control. You must also comply with other state air quality regulations, as well as all county or local outdoor burning ordinances. To make your general debris burning notification, press 1 now. If you¡¯re calling from a rotary phone, please st-.¡±]


    I pressed 1¨Cthe recording continued:


    [¡°This notification is valid for today only. It is not valid inside corporate limits of any town or city. Fire danger today is MODERATE, outdoor burning should be conducted with caution. If you¡¯re going to burn, the state precaution law requires you make this notification. It also requires that you have an adequate firebreak around the burning site, adequate means of keeping the fire under control, and that you stay with the fire until it is completely safe. To complete your notification, please give your name, telephone number, and location of the burn at the sound of the to-.¡±]


    I get why the state has to do this, but oh by god this recording was taking forever. After I gave them the information needed, I hung up and went up to Jean in the front yard to tell her that I called the line and was going to start the fire.


    ¡°Alright, if you need any help just holler.¡± She was being particular with the pine needles, fluffing them as if they were a pillow. It made me think that I should probably do the same, but if it was really that needed she would tell me.


    <hr>


    I was done for the day¡­well, it was barely past noon, but I was done with all the yard work. I¡¯ve cut the grass, trimmed the trees, spread out pine needles, and now was manning a fire. It wasn¡¯t a huge fire, but it still was large enough to require an eye on it.


    The Landlord was off doing something. I wasn¡¯t going to bother finding out, since all that would happen is that I¡¯d get roped into helping her.


    I¡¯d been on my phone for some time now¡ªI haven¡¯t had time to waste for a few hours now. Might as well check up on social media!


    It was the same old story. Nothing that exciting. My account, which had zero real followers and followed way too many people, had a great variety of what could be served. A good chunk of my follower list was of news outlets. Not just the CNNs and the ABCs, but also the SCMPs, the Al Jazeeras¡ªhell, even the RTs! Although I hate the news for what it stands for, I can¡¯t stop consuming it! I need to know what¡¯s going on around the world! New management of Twitter may want to make it unusable for news, but I have a good enough bullshit meter to not be affected by it.


    The only VTuber-related accounts I followed were of Michael and his cohorts. There were anime news outlets I followed that occasionally posted VTuber-related news, but that was usually of Japanese VTubers. VTubers from NijiLive, a direct competitor to Michael¡¯s employer AnyClover, had also been featured. NijiLive had an edge in the English VTuber market over AnyClover. They were in the market a year earlier than NijiLive, giving them a good headstart. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but it does seem like 2020 was a better year to start your English push than 2021. Not even including the obvious reason, it should¡¯ve been more known that English-speaking VTubers would be as much of a hit as Japnese-speaking ones. I digress.


    Looking at Michael¡¯s Twitter page, it seems that he put out that was streaming this morning¡­damn, I thought I was more on top of these things! Well, it seemed like it was a ¡®guerilla stream¡¯, meaning that he decided to stream minutes before he went live. Not like it would¡¯ve changed anything if we¡¯re being honest.


    ¡°That fire¡¯s looking good.¡± Jean had scared me. I didn¡¯t hear her coming over my own thoughts.


    ¡°Yep.¡± Trying to maintain the illusion that she didn¡¯t startle me, I went along with her.


    ¡°He really isn¡¯t gonna come out and help, huh?¡± The Landlord was looking at Michael¡¯s window.


    ¡°Yeah, I highly doubt it.¡± He was never in a million years going to help. It would have to be at gunpoint.


    ¡°Yep. That boy is no help at all.¡±


    ¡°Well, at least I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°Thank God for that.¡±


    ¡°And we got all that done in only a few hours.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± The Landlord chucked ¡°I¡¯m not done in the slightest. There¡¯s plenty of projects that I need to do around the house.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I mean, I¡¯ve already done four things today. Technically five if you count steadying a ladder as hard work. In all honesty, I didn¡¯t want to do anything else.


    ¡°There¡¯s tons of things. I¡¯m always thinking of things to do around the house. My other houses are new and don¡¯t have anything to fix yet. For instance¨Cthat gutter we fixed? There¡¯s probably several other places that have screws that are damn near rotten. If I had the time I would like to inspect them all, but that would take all day and I hate being on the ladder.¡± That didn¡¯t stop you from getting into a fight with a power tool however¡­  ¡°Also, at that point I might as well get new gutters. And then there¡¯s the siding. I need to just go ahead and get new siding, but I haven¡¯t pulled the plug yet. The more pressing matter is that the siding needs to be cleaned. Just looking at that green stuff on the side makes me feel dirty. Yuck!¡±


    The Landlord went on for several minutes explaining also what was wrong with the house. The underpin needed to be repaired. We needed a new roof. The carport needed to be repainted. And she ¡®can bet¡¯ that we weren¡¯t keeping the house clean enough. Other than the underpin, I never thought about the other things. Too much to keep up with for me. Not for Jean, however.


    ¡°So¡­what are you planning to do next?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a pressure washer in the shed that hasn¡¯t worked in a while. I watched a YouTube video yesterday on how to fix what I think is wrong with it, so I¡¯ll be doing that for a while. If I can get it fixed, I¡¯m gonna get that green shit off the siding. It¡¯s giving me the creeps!¡±


    Fine with me as long as she didn¡¯t rope me into it. For me, it was phone time until the fire had died down enough for me to abandon it.


    ¡°Oh, and I¡¯m gonna spray insect killer around the house as well.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you already spray?¡±


    ¡°That was for weeds. This is for insects.¡±


    God damn, this woman¡¯s brain was running at a million miles per hour. I¡¯d call what she¡¯s doing ¡®defying gender norms¡¯ while she¡¯d probably describe it as ¡®getting shit done¡¯. Either way, she was going to do what she wanted, no matter what stood in her way.


    <hr>


    It was only noon, but I was already done streaming. I had started my daily stream early. Early for my timezone at least. 6 AM on the East Coast, where I reside now. It was at 8 PM in Japan and noon in Central Europe, which was who I was mostly streaming for. It was 3 AM on the West Coast, where I lived until two years ago. I had never had a normal sleep schedule, so being up at this time wasn¡¯t new. Insomnia is a pain in the ass¡­


    I had originally planned to guerilla steam American Truck Simulator the whole time. After talking to my chat for a few minutes, I started on a journey from Los Angeles to Seattle¨CJohn might call the East Coast the ¡®Beast Coast¡¯, but it isn¡¯t anything compared to the Best Coast. I really do miss it. It¡¯s where I was born and raised, so how could I not? The weather was better there than here, and I was actually able to walk to places back home. Not that I actually walked anywhere¡­not after I discovered DoorDash. I¡¯m not sponsored by them, but I wish I was! Anyone who uses delivery apps knows how expensive it can get, especially if you live far away from civilization like I do now! The only thing that this area had over home was that there was peace and quiet¡­at least most of the time.


    Around an hour into my stream, a loud, repeating banging noise unsettled me. It sounded like someone was trying to break in! What the hell? Who the hell tries to break into a house at 7 in the morning? The weirder part is that the banging noise wasn¡¯t coming from the doors. It was coming from the room adjacent to me. I knew John was home, so I decided to see if he knew what was happening.


    [¡°do u know what is that noise outide?¡±]


    It wasn¡¯t until a few minutes later that I saw that I misspelled ¡®outside¡¯, but honestly I was too spooked to care. I had muted for the time being. The banging noise was intermediate, with sometimes a somewhat quieter swirling noise going on in between bangs. It was outside my window of the room next to where I stream.


    It had been a few minutes. Robbery be damned, I needed to resume my stream. My truck had crashed into a tree, so I had to get it repaired as soon as possible. Right as I was about to unmute, I heard a sudden yell from outside. It was muffled, but I could hear the word ¡®bitch¡¯. It sounded like my landlord, Jean. The incoming Discord message from John confirmed it. A few minutes later, the banging stopped. Wonder if it was related to the dripping noise I heard outside my room yesterday?


    Come to think, he did tell me yesterday that she was coming by today. I never thought that ¡®today¡¯ would be this early, but from my prior experiences with her, it wasn¡¯t that surprising. When she tried to get me to cut the grass last year, she arrived at the same time. She was hella pushy, acting like I was her son or something. More pushy than my own parents¡­something I thought I¡¯d never say. I cut the grass, but that was the only time. I had some company come out and cut it for me, since I had better things to do. I didn¡¯t even go out there often and she didn¡¯t even live here anymore, so why did she care?


    That was only the start of the trouble. After that, I heard the lawn mower start. She must have gotten him to cut the grass¡­damn it, couldn¡¯t she wait a few hours? While that didn¡¯t scare the shit out of me like the banging, it was way more annoying. The worst part was that it would pick up over the stream.


    I originally sent a few messages to John begging him to turn it down, since it was so rudely interrupting my stream, but after a while, I decided to switch to Lawn Mowing Simulator. He wasn¡¯t going to pick up. I was surprised that I still had this game on my computer, seeing that I hadn¡¯t played it in over a year. I finally had a reason to play it again¡­at least until the cutting stopped an hour later.


    After that, most of the outside noise stopped. There was still a lot of noise outside, but nothing that would bleed over onto the stream. The saving grace to all of this was that those in chat seemed to find my annoyance hilarious. If it entertained them, then it was worth it in the end. Just barely.


    I ended my stream at around 11:30 AM. Over five hours of streaming¡­quite a lot. Since I wasn¡¯t streaming again until tomorrow afternoon, I didn¡¯t mind going long.


    After making a cup of green tea, I was chilling out and watching some of my genmates stream. I hadn¡¯t heard from John or The Landlord for hours at this point¡­curious, I went to the room adjacent to me and looked out the window to the backyard¡­what I saw was too good not to post on Twitter.


    <hr>

 A Reversal of Roles

    Another day in paradise¡­that¡¯s what my mother always said after describing a hectic day at work. It was indeed ¡®another day in paradise¡¯¨Cnot because I was having to do a lot of work, but because there was a lack of work to be done.


    When you¡¯re not at work, you imagine a slow day being a good thing. When you¡¯re there and work is overflowing due to either a sudden influx of customers, a lack of help, or both, it¡¯s hell. If you ever worked a day of retail you know this already. Customers could easily become unruly if they think their needs weren¡¯t met, flipping their shit on a whim if something sets them off. Thankfully this almost never happened to me¨Ccustomers tend to pick less on employees that have a ¡®resting bitch face¡¯. It¡¯s one of the only benefits of having one. Couldn¡¯t say the same for my ¡®softer¡¯ looking male coworkers or most of my female coworkers, who were easier targets. I¡¯ve had customers be rude, but never had one yell at me or try to physically accost me. On the other hand, there were multiple times where I had strange people talk my ear off about whatever came to their mind. They were a perfect alibi if I wanted to slack off for a few minutes¨Cit¡¯s rude to not listen to a customer after all! They¡¯re the ones that make this all possible!


    Working in fulfillment, I usually was in the back. The only time I was on the floor was to pick orders or to deliver them to vehicles. I had no obligation to help customers at all¨Cif they came up to me, I could always have someone else assist them if I was too busy. Most of the time, their questions were something simple like ¡°Where is ¡®X¡¯ item?¡± or ¡°What is the price of this?¡± Such questions could be answered quickly, since my Zebra scanner had information for both. It was easy information to pick up since it was easily available on the Hobby Lobby app. Of course, I could always tell customers this, and tell them how to download it, but that wasn¡¯t my job. Tech support, while it was something I was ¡®good¡¯ at, wasn¡¯t why I was here. It was one of the metrics that managers loved to see¨Cthey would potentially get a bonus if they exceeded the metric for ¡®app downloads¡¯. For me though, it made no difference if I got ten customers to download the app or zero. I still made the same hourly pay. How was corporate able to measure the metric anyway? We had no public Wi-Fi in the store¨Chow did they know that it was our store they downloaded the app from? It¡¯s not my problem.


    The only good thing about busy days was that you always had something to do. Time passed by faster on those types of days. Your shift was over before you knew it, and if you were good at saying ¡®no¡¯ to managers that wanted you to work over, you could go home on time and relax until you had to do it all over again.


    Today was the opposite of those days. It was dead inside the store¨Cthere were more employees than customers right now¡­and there were no orders to fulfill. In theory, work days like these would be the same as going to school and doing no work. That was the theory¡­in real life, this was never going to be the case. Just as the teacher could assign you homework randomly, managers could assign you someone else¡¯s work if they felt that you didn¡¯t ¡®have enough to do¡¯.


    You might be saying ¡°Then go hide!¡±. I would love to, but it was pretty impossible to do here. I hadn¡¯t been here long enough to discover where the ¡®hiding spots¡¯ were, if there even was one. And even if I wanted to, my phone connection tended to get worse the further in Hobby Lobby I was, making it difficult to keep myself busy while hiding. You can only sit on the toilet for so long before getting bored. There¡¯s also the risk of hemorrhoids, but that¡¯s not important in this equation. It was difficult to admit, but doing work was more fun than staring at a wall. The problem with that was that I didn¡¯t want to seek out extra work. That would set a precedent for managers to give me more work in the future, when I perhaps already had things to do. There was nothing they loved more than rewarding employees that finished their duties ahead of time with more duties. Fuck you for doing your job! That left me with only one option¨Cpretend to be busy.


    I was making laps around the store, tidying things up. If there was one thing customers liked to do, it was not leave an area the way it looked when they entered it. It made sense when kids did it, since they were kids. They¡¯re messy and don¡¯t understand that someone that isn¡¯t their parents has to clean that mess up. Annoying, but it¡¯s a fact of life. What got me was how many people my age or older didn¡¯t know how to clean up after themselves. Part of this had to be the internal disdain they had for retail workers like me. Something along the lines of ¡°if I have it hard, then everyone else needs to have hard as well!¡±. An infantile mindset that only brought others down. It was infuriating because it always happened when you weren¡¯t around¡­and even if I was around, what would I say? I had no authority over them, nothing I could say would make them straighten up and not leave every area they touch with their stubby fingers while looking like a tornado went through it. In fact, confronting a customer about it would only make things worse. They could retaliate by either throwing a tantrum and making other areas messy or threaten to fight you. The latter hasn¡¯t happened to me yet, but I¡¯ve heard about the former occuring. Seen the results as well.


    More commonly, the ¡®Can I see your manager?¡¯ line get uttered. It¡¯s trite to poke fun at those types of customers, but it really was a type. I don¡¯t know what their end goal was either, because it never ended with a coworker getting in trouble. Just ¡®We¡¯ll look into it.¡¯ from managers and them immediately closing the case because there never was one in the first place. The complaint most of the time is something along the lines of ¡®They didn¡¯t drop everything and ignore the customer they were already helping to help me!¡¯


    As it stands, I was tidying stuff up. A good thing about working at an arts and crafts store was that you almost never had to fold clothes. We had T-shirts for sale, but they were all hung up in the back of the store, out of the way from civilization. That was the worst part about working at a place like JC Penney¡¯s. Spending hours folding entire rows of Levi¡¯s, ordering them by size and type, just for them to get messed up again once a customer wants to go through them. It was almost a pointless task, because to even find the correct size customers had to go through the jeans, which would make them look disorganized. Keeping that area pristine was futile. Shirts were a whole other mess. Basically anything that was set up on a table was a nightmare to keep neat. I originally thought that this was only a Men¡¯s Department thing, but the Women¡¯s sections were just as bad, if not even worse. I can only thank gender heteronormativity for getting me off the hook of ever having to clean the women¡¯s changing room. You don¡¯t know how many times panties had to be thrown out due to ¡®leakage¡¯...the closest thing to that I had to deal with was when I found a pair of jeans peed in the men¡¯s changing room. That was a one time thing thankfully. Men tried on clothes less, which made the necessity of having to go in there and pick up clothes they decided not to buy (or put back up) less dire.


    There was also the ¡®issue¡¯ of shoplifters using the changing room to do their business. That was less of a pain in the ass because I had to really only pick up tags and tell managers about it. The way I looked at it was that at least they were actually sneaky about it. The one thing I hated about shoplifters was when they were painfully slow and obvious about it¡­just take the shit you want and leave! You¡¯re not even paying for it, so why be picky! You¡¯re only building a case against yourself by going at a snail¡¯s pace! Believe me, I don¡¯t care, but I have to pretend to care at the time if you¡¯re that obvious and a manager sees it. So annoying. Oh, and also, those tags on the back of the cheap jewelry can be easily ripped off. I did it so many times instead of turning off the sensor when I had to ship jewelry out. It¡¯s faster and it won¡¯t go off when you do it. It didn¡¯t when I did.


    Going towards the clock section, I stopped and stared at the biggest ones we had in stock. When I say big, I mean big. Like big enough where they could barely fit in a shopping cart. They were tempting to buy just for the novelty, but at $200, it wasn¡¯t worth having a giant ticking object laying around. I settled with gazing at it¨Csomething I made sure to do every shift. It wasn¡¯t quite as cool as a grandfather cloc¨C


    ¡°Hey stranger.¡±


    Snapping out of my trance, I instinctively jumped back¨Cthat wasn¡¯t who I thought it was, wasn¡¯t it? Looking to my left, I confirmed it in fact was¡­


    ¡°What? Do I look like a creeper or something?¡± Michael looked somewhat puzzled. This was the first time I¡¯ve seen him outside of our property¨CI was perplexed that he would be here. The random Minecraft reference had me thinking he was either playing it before he got here, or would be after. To be honest, he looked more like a slendey than a creeper with his lanky proportions.


    ¡°What¡¯re you doing here?¡± I know that sounded mean, but I really wanted to know why he was here.


    ¡°What? can¡¯t a friend visit another friend while on the job? You¡¯ve seen my workplace, now I get to see yours.¡± Oh, I see¡­he was bored and didn¡¯t have any games he wanted to play. Besides Minecraft I guess. ¡°Besides, I¡¯ve never been to this place before¡­¡± he looked around ¡°You talk about this place like it¡¯s a church, but it seems to have a little bit of everything.¡±


    I had often made the refrain that this place was owned by fundamentalist Christians that really took their worship seriously. The good part of that was that I never worked on Sundays, a guaranteed day off every week. It was also the day that Formula 1 races were on, which was the closest thing I had to a ¡®place of worship¡¯. The bad part was that sometimes the founder got embroiled in scandal for allegedly buying ancient artifacts from ISIS for his ¡®Museum of the Bible¡¯. Buying stolen artifacts wasn¡¯t the best publicity, but with the way business was trending, it seemed that the public forgave them. Or they never cared in the first place. All I got out of it was calling it ¡®Wahabi Lobby¡¯. Almost no one got the reference.


    ¡°Woah, Pironi would love these clocks¡± ¨C Michael was referring to another of his coworkers, Ora Pironi¨Cher concept was that she was ¡®the master of time¡¯, or something like that. I thought the clock thing was purely lore for her character, but I guess it isn¡¯t uncommon for someone to collect clocks. There¡¯s a reason we have a whole aisle dedicated to them. I didn¡¯t know much about her other than that she was a bit of an oddball. You could say that about most VTubers, but she was something else. She had a knack for not having her room cleaned¨Coften accidentally kicking her pile of energy drinks that were situated under her. I don¡¯t know how much of it was her playing it up, and how much of it was for real¨CI knew the can thing was real though. I wonder if she was actually Italian¡­


    ¡°So¡­since you¡¯re here, I can show you around.¡± I looked down at my Zerba device, looking to see if any new orders came in¡­nope, nothing. ¡°I have nothing better to do.¡±


    ¡°That would be awesome¨CI need stuff for future handcam streams¡­show me where the fun stuff is!¡± he was getting too excited about this¡­I¡¯ll play along for now.


    ¡°Right this way sir¡­¡±


    <hr>


    The first place I took him was where all the anime-related stuff was. Being a hobby store, of course we had to have some anime stuff. It was mostly gundams and a very small assortment of figures from currently popular anime. To be quite honest, I had little to zero knowledge of Gundam. The only one that I recognized was the ¡®RX-78-2¡¯ one. I guess that was like the Optimus Prime of the series popularity-wise. I had more interest in the other side of the aisle, where the model cars were.


    Of course, all of the model cars were of the ¡®Cool Cars¡¯ variety, but there was one in particular that stood out to me. It was the Chevrolet Corvette C7.R model set. It wasn¡¯t just any Corvette¨Cit was the Corvette model that won its class at the 24 Hours of Le Mans in 2015. It was based off the seventh generation Corvette that was new at the time. The cool thing about it, and all other GT (Grand Tourer) cars, was that it looked almost exactly like the road car version of it.


    As I never have had the fortune to build a model car, I had no idea how hard it would be. According to the box, this kit was a ¡®Level 4¡¯ kit, which meant that it would require some painting and gluing to build. Apparently, the build time was estimated to be around five hours. The glue and paint sold separately.


    Visualizing how sexy it would look once built, I took a box off the shelf and said ¡°Hey, you should put together one of these on stream.¡±


    ¡°What is that?¡± Michael, more interested in the Gundams, walked towards me and took a gander at the box. ¡°You want me to snap together a Ford for a stream? Wouldn¡¯t that be a little bit too simple?¡± Oh that¡¯s rich coming from a guy who had a stream with the theme ¡®eating a hot tortilla chip¡¯...


    I bit my tongue before I uttered a snappy comeback at him¨CI took an internal deep breath and replied ¡°It¡¯s a kit that you have to glue and paint together. Kinda like those Gundams you were looking at. In fact, I think it¡¯s a bit more complicated than this,¡± I grabbed a random Gundam box, ¡°because if my memory serves me correctly, these already come pre-painted and with the decals¡­I¡¯m not saying that this is easier to build¨Cin fact, more people would be interested in you building this Gundam, but would you be the first one to build one?¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°No, definitely not.¡±


    ¡°You would more than likely be the first VTuber to ever put together a Corvette on stream. Think about it¨Cit¡¯s your own little niche. I know you aren¡¯t interested in motorsports in anyway, but I think it¡¯s a great idea. Plus, it¡¯s not expensive at all.¡± I looked down to fact check myself ¡°Only 38 dollars!¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­I can see where you¡¯re getting at¡­¡± he took both boxes from my hand ¡°I¡¯ll get both of them¡­¡± I forgot that he was Mr. Moneybags for a second¨Cthe price tag didn¡¯t really matter.


    ¡°Now we¡¯ll need to get some paint and glue for that ¡®Vette. Follow me¨Cyou might get some other ideas for streams while we¡¯re getting everything you need.¡± I started guiding him to our next destination, but remembering his mistake, turned back.


    ¡°By the way,¡± I said with the utmost of importance, pointing at the plastic model ¡°it¡¯s a Chevy.¡±


    <hr>


    The aisle with all of the paint wasn¡¯t that far away. Thankfully there was a shopping basket abandoned nearby. There was nothing in it, so I nabbed it before anyone else could. We would need it for all of the paint.


    Michael, seeing me with the basket, dropped both the Gundam and The ¡®Vette in there and said ¡°I¡¯m going to look around while you get all of the paint.¡± Before I could tell him to get back here, he was in the aisle adjacent¡­he must have seen something that caught his eye.


    Looking at the bottom of the box for the Corvette model, the list of paints required to paint the model as intended were:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Aluminum</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Flat Black</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Gloss Black</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Gloss Red</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Gloss Yellow</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Graphite Metallic</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Gunmetal</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Light Blue</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Semi Gloss Black</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Steel</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Transparent Gray</li>


    </ul>


    ¡­Jesus Christ, eleven different types of paint? Bob Ross used like eight to create his masterpieces. I know I shouldn¡¯t use the Lord¡¯s name in vain while at a place of worship, but that was a lot of paint to get for one model kit.


    Thankfully, they were all in the same display and made by the same brand. There were about sixty colors to choose from, but picking out the ones he needed was simple. Thank goodness it was organized and that we had all of them in stock¡­all in stock except ¡®Transparent Gray¡¯, which we didn¡¯t even have on display. Maybe I was overlooking it, but I couldn¡¯t find it for the life of me. I didn¡¯t know how important it was to the kit, but for the sake of being a completionist, I called an audible and got a bottle of clear paint to go with ¡®Flat Gray¡¯, which combined would hopefully resemble ¡®Transparent Gray¡¯ when mixed with the right consistency of both. Hopefully.


    I¡¯ve been to this section and have picked out this brand of paint numerous times while fulfilling orders. One thing I learned about Hobby Lobby is that they offer competitive prices in comparison to other retailers and even Amazon. I never shopped here before I started working at Hobby Lobby, but now I find myself occasionally buying things from here not because of a random urge to get them¨Cbut because they were priced the lowest here. The 15% employee discount helped with that, but sometimes it was lower than Amazon even without it.


    Right as I peaked my head into the aisle Michael wandered off into, I saw him pick out a birdhouse and smirk. He looked to his left, where my head was peaking out, and asked ¡°This looks cool doesn¡¯t it?¡± It was a birdhouse with two entrances¨Ca ¡®Duplex Birdhouse¡¯ it went by in the system. Birdhouses wasn¡¯t my idea of ¡®cool¡¯, but I had to admit that it was one pretty fancy looking one. I thought the fun of one was building it, I highly doubt Michael had the woodworking skills to be able to build anything other than a box with a hole in the side, even if that. The shed might as well been locked off to him. He still hasn¡¯t stepped foot in it.


    ¡°What¡¯s that for?¡± I was genuinely interested. Michael never showed any interest in birds, so why get a birdhouse? It¡¯s true that many birds do live and chirp near us, but the last thing I wanted was for them to have a home to make noise. I doubt Michael wanted that too, since they would no doubt distract him while streaming if their ¡®home¡¯ was too close to his room.


    ¡°Kotori¡¯s birthday is coming up in a few weeks, so I thought painting this for her would be a good stream idea.¡± Ah, I see¨CI get it now. It actually was a good idea. Since the birdhouse he got was pretty complex as far as birdhouses go, he could go nuts with whatever design he decided to do for her birthday. As you probably guessed, he was talking about Kotori Hori, another of his coworkers. Being someone who watched Love Live! back in the day, I knew that ¡®Kotori¡¯ meant ¡®small bird¡¯ in Japanese. Her model was bird-like, using earth tones that made for an otherwise ¡®normal¡¯ design VTuber-wise. The gift made sense lore-wise as well, I guess. I still can¡¯t wrap my head around the concept of ¡®VTuber lore¡¯. Why does a streamer need a made-up backstory?


    <em style="text-align: center">


    <em style="text-align: center">


    Rough drawing of the ¡®Duplex Birdhouse¡¯ that Michael picked out. The colors don¡¯t match what it looks like in real life¨CI got lazy after a while and used the same ten shades of tan to complete the drawing. Nevertheless you can tell how complex it looks for a birdhouse. It already roughly matches her color palette. I sure hope he mails it to Kotori after he is done with it, since it would be a pain to have even more birds on the property.


    ¡°Plus, it¡¯s forty percent off.¡± Michael sounded a bit like me justifying a purchase¡­it was true that ¡®Unfinished Craft Wood¡¯ was 40% off this week, but it wasn¡¯t like unpainted birdhouses were expensive in the first place.


    He walked towards me, placed the birdhouse in the basket and asked ¡°Did you get all the paint needed for that car?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯ll need some more paint if you¡¯re gonna paint that treehouse.¡± even with all of the different types of paint he was going to buy, he needed a separate set of paint for that treehouse and any other art project that wasn¡¯t the Corvette. Would be very embarrassing for him if he ran out of paint while decorating Kotori¡¯s birthday gift. Thinking about it, I didn¡¯t know if we had any paint brushes to begin with¨CI¡¯m sure there were some in the shed, but there was no guarantee that they were clean or weren¡¯t beat up all to hell. ¡°Oh yeah, we should get some brushes too, wouldn¡¯t want you to buy all of this just to have to do finger paint.¡±


    ¡°Ahh yeah¡­finger painting seems like a good idea, but that¡¯s something I want to put off for now.¡± I could understand that¨Cfinger painting with gloves on seems like it would be a nightmare. Even so, what would he finger paint? It would take for fucking ever to finger paint a treehouse. I sure hope he wasn¡¯t seriously considering doing that.


    Walking back into the paint aisle, I grabbed an acrylic paint set, ¡°How about this? You could get Bob Ross with it with these paints.¡± This wasn¡¯t the Bob Ross brand paint, but it was basically the same thing¨Cdown to the colors. The set I grabbed was a 10-piece set, more than enough for a birdhouse. It had:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Titanium White</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Yellow Medium</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Permanent Red</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Phthalo Blue</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Grass Green</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Burnt Umber</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Crimson</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Ultramarine Blue</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Yellow Ochre</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Permanent Black</li>


    </ul>


    Gee, I wasn¡¯t kidding when I said he could get ¡®Bob Ross with it¡¯... he probably wouldn''t need a palette knife or the thing Bob used to ¡®beat the devil outta it¡¯¨Ca palette itself would be useful the more I think about it, since using a paper towel would only end in tears and I don¡¯t know how The Landlord would feel about us using one of her plates as one. She would find out somehow. I just know.


    ¡°Alright, now to the brushes¨Cwe¡¯ll need to get a palette as well too.¡± I wanted to give Michael a heads up so he didn¡¯t assume I was throwing random junk in the basket. At this rate, we would need to get a shopping cart.


    ¡°Okay¡­wait, what¡¯s a palette?¡±


    ¡°The thing you put the paint on.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t I just use a plate?¡±


    ¡°I mean¡­yeah, you could¡­but how would you explain to Jean how a plate became multi-colored if you couldn¡¯t wash it off? You should know more than I do that she hates tacky looking things.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯re the one living there¡­she¡¯s a gazillionaire. Why would she care?¡±


    You know, for someone who was very thoughtful when it came to his coworkers, he had no clue how to read women in real life¡­it¡¯s a wonder that she didn¡¯t evict him when his lease was first up. I got his point¨Cshe was rich after all. She could just replace the plates if it bothered her that much, but that wasn¡¯t the point. She was someone who maintained her frugalness even when there was no reason to. I could tell those plates were there for years, if not decades. They likely held sentimental value to her. I wasn¡¯t going to get chewed out by her because I let him mess up a plate of hers. I had to find an excuse.


    ¡°Look¡­what will happen if your chat sees you using a dinner plate as a palette? They¡¯re gonna roast you to high hell. You¡¯ll look silly. That¡¯s why you need a palette.¡±


    As the walk to the palettes was short, we were already there. I grabbed the first one I saw, ¡°Also, you would look more professional with one. It would complete the look. Plus this thing is only like five dollars.¡±


    ¡°I see what you¡¯re getting at,¡± Michael said while grabbing an assortment value pack of paint brushes, ¡°This would work wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t see why it wouldn¡¯t.¡± It probably wasn¡¯t the nicest set of paint brushes, but it wasn¡¯t like Michael was going to use these outside of streams. We put both items in the about-to-overflow basket. ¡°Alright, this looks like everything we need. Are you ready to check out?¡± I was tired of carrying this basket. It was getting quite heavy.


    ¡°I think so¡­¡± he was pondering for a moment, ¡°...wait. What about the Gundam? We need tools for that.¡±


    God damn it, he was right. He would need separate tools for that Gundam he was going to get. Aggravated, I asked ¡°Do you know what you need?¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t, I need-¡± before he could finish what he was saying, I handed him his basket.


    ¡°You hold this. Let me Google what we need and I¡¯ll lead the way.¡± I had been with him for what seemed like a long time by now. I was surprised that no one had called me or that I needed something to fulfill. Just the way it goes sometimes¡­


    <hr>


    Thankfully, the list of stuff needed for Michael¡¯s Gundam was short. We needed to get:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Side Cutters</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Self-Healing Cutting Mat</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Xacto Knife</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Sanding Sticks</li>


    </ul>


    Thankfully, the first three items were easy finds. Xacto knives were a commonly bought item. Technically any razor would work, but I had no idea what other type of razors we had at home. So a Size 1 Xacto knife it is. A self-healing mat was probably a good idea, because the last think we needed was for him to fuck up his desk with the knife trying to build the thing. He could¡¯ve gotten a bigger mat, but he decided that 12¡± by 12¡± was big enough. I agreed since anything larger would start to hang off of his desk. While I thought any old pliers were good enough, apparently you don¡¯t want to use things with teeth when clipping off parts. So side cutters it was.


    The hardest part was finding ¡®sanding sticks¡¯, which was something that Hobby Lobby didn¡¯t have to my knowledge. We settled on ¡®sanding files¡¯, for all I know was basically the same thing. There were three types we could get¨Cwe got the 120/240 grit ones, since they seemed to be the best variation on offer.


    ¡°Okay¨Cnow we have everything.¡± I was very sure this time. Unless if he picked up another item while on the way to check out, we were good.


    ¡°Yeah, that seems like everything¡­you seem to be ready to get rid of me¡­¡±


    It wasn¡¯t that I wanted to get rid of him, it was more that I felt like I should be doing something else. I should be enjoying this, especially since I was just mulling around before, but I had a feeling that I was ignoring something. I knew I wasn¡¯t because checking my Zebra, nothing still was in, but I couldn¡¯t shake that feeling. It was strange.


    Walking him to the check-out line, I got him to check out with Susan, one of the older employees¡­well, most people here were the ¡®older employees¡¯, but she had been here for more than a decade at this point.


    ¡°Here, you can check out with Susan,¡± I laid his stuff out on the conveyor belt. He had like twenty items in total¨Cenough for three separate streams. ¡°Susan, here¡¯s my employee card¨Clet him use my discount.¡±


    ¡°Why? Is he your boyfriend?¡± Susan asked¡­she tended to be a stickler for the rules at times.


    I stammered, not expecting such a sudden question ¡°Ahh, no?¡±


    ¡°Now you know that I can¡¯t just give your friend a discount just because you tell me too.¡± Oh boy, here we go¡­


    Michael looked at me and said ¡°What happened to us? I thought we had something¡­¡± I had no idea what he was doing. He was only confusing Susan. I had to clear the situation up.


    ¡°Please ignore him¡­well, we do live together,¡± I scratched the back of my neck nervously, ¡°but we aren¡¯t ¡®partners¡¯. We¡¯re roommates.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you aren¡¯t lying about living together, then I don¡¯t have a reason to not let him use your discount.¡± I didn¡¯t know anything about the restrictions of my discount card, since I was the only one that used it up to this point, but if she was going to let him use it, then that was my part done. I didn¡¯t even know why I was going through all of this. He didn¡¯t even need the savings!


    The total brought up once everything was scanned was $136.85¨Ca good thirty dollars saved if my estimations were correct. When entering his card, I heard Susan¡¯s walkie go off:


    [¡°John, please come by the office.¡±]


    Oh¡­that was me¡­wait, why wasn¡¯t my walkie going off.


    Looking at it, Susan remarked, ¡°Oh yeah, they¡¯ve been trying to get you for about five minutes now.¡± Well gee, I wished you would¡¯ve told me that when you first saw me. I had no idea what they wanted¡­couldn¡¯t be anything bad because they would¡¯ve called over the PA if it was. Probably was something along the lines of wanting me to work an extra day next week or some extra hours.


    ¡°Well, in that case, I¡¯ll leave you two at it.¡± Michael had all of his stuff bagged up.


    ¡°See you later then.¡± Michael remarked.


    Depending on what they wanted me for, ¡®later¡¯ could be 7 hours from now rather than the 3 I¡¯m scheduled for, ¡°See you too.¡±


    <hr>

 The Sponsorship Stream

    Another box had arrived at the front door today. Being a streamer and a hermit, Michael was often getting stuff mailed to him. He had so much streaming equipment backed up that there was a closet dedicated to it. I would call it wasteful, but at the same time there¡¯s nothing stopping me from going in there and ¡®borrowing¡¯ his unused streaming equipment, so I see nothing wrong with it. He probably wouldn¡¯t notice in the first place.


    The box in hand was quite huge. It was quite possibly the biggest thing I¡¯ve ever seen delivered to Michael. It had some weight as well. Not too much, but enough to know that it warranted the huge box. Once inside, I placed it on the counter in the kitchen and left it there for him to get. I had no idea what it was, so I would feel bad if I opened it myself. Tearing up and throwing away the junk mail, I returned to my room, where I had been playing Gran Turismo 7.


    Truth be told, I¡¯ve had a PlayStation 4 the whole time but only got around to hooking it up a month and a half ago. Playing CS:GO reminded me that other, more enjoyable games exist, and that some of them are on consoles. Violet didn¡¯t want to play all the time, and I¡¯d rather eat dog shit than play CS:GO solo. We still played, but not almost everyday like two months ago.


    After blowing off all of the dust on the PlayStation, updating whatever software it needed to update, and updating Gran Turismo 7, I was in business.


    I have been playing Gran Turismo 7 almost every day for the last few weeks¨Cmost of the time spent either looking at custom liveries or doing daily races. They didn¡¯t have any liveries of ¡®Francis¡¯ (both of them), and there were only a few of Violet. There were an abundance of VTuber-themed liveries, but the lion¡¯s share of them were of Japanese VTubers. VTubers from NijiLive were heavily represented, AnyClover was a distant second.


    I was playing on a controller, which wasn¡¯t ideal, but wasn¡¯t all that unusual for a Gran Turismo game. Real racing game heads typically use racing wheel setups for their racing, not only for the ¡®realism¡¯, but also because racing using a wheel and pedal was more precise and ¡®faster¡¯.


    With racing games like Gran Turismo 7, there was no one other to blame for your failures than yourself. While there were ¡®idiot drivers¡¯, there were no ¡®idiot teammates¡¯. You are in control of your own destiny. As long as you don¡¯t get punted off, you have no one to blame other than yourself.


    Gran Turismo 7, while being touted as ¡°THE REAL DRIVING SIMULATOR¡±, was in reality nowhere near the most ¡®realistic¡¯ racing sim. Games like iRacing and Assetto Corsa were considered the creme de la creme of racing simulators. Gran Turismo occupies the sweet spot where it still requires skill to be able to race, but you don¡¯t need to have a ten-thousand-dollar wheel setup to rise to the top. Using a controller is viable in Gran Turismo, but not ideal.


    Using a controller, my main bad habit while driving was being too quick on the gas exiting a corner. I had traction control off, which made the probability of spinning out go up at the benefit of going faster through corners. Having traction control at 0 and accidentally pressing on the gas too hard, which was very easy to do on a controller, would mean certain death if you lacked grip. To make sure this never happens, I instead learned to be more careful on the gas. On some corners, you can high-tail it out as soon as you see daylight, but on other corners, like the Mercedes-Arena section of the Nurburgring Grand Prix Circuit, require you to feather it on the gas. Pretend that there¡¯s an egg under the pedal, as an experienced driver would tell you. You had to do the same for braking. Slamming the brakes indiscriminately would most often cause you to lock up and understeer off track. This part was more confusing to inexperienced drivers such as I, because conventional wisdom tells you that you need to brake in order to make the turn. On a controller, it was very easy to overbrake since you had the same problem with instinctively pressing down all the way. It took countless laps to learn how to brake appropriately. You had to compare it to driving in real life in order to get a grasp on how to drive. Think about it, when do you ever press all the way down on your gas or brake pedal while driving in real life? The only time you would slam the brakes in real life is if you had to stop all in a sudden¨Cusually something you only do in a panic. If you¡¯re racing, then that¡¯s one thing, but slamming your gas pedal when the red light turns green would most certainly cause insane wheelspin, and pressing fully down on your brakes while approaching a stop sign would cause you to lock up and slide past it. If you had a racing wheel setup, you were less likely to instantly slam on either pedals indiscriminately, since you have more of a feel of what¡¯s going to happen if you do. In this way, the Gran Turismo series was really the ¡°Real Driving Simulator¡±. If you were just playing to vibe and drive around, you could always have assists on so you didn¡¯t have to deal with all of this¨Cyou would drive a lot slower, however.


    That was only a few of the myriad of factors that mattered while driving. There are countless others I could go over, but the point is this: Driving with a controller is completely doable, but a wheel is more precise. It¡¯s a bit like playing a fighting game with a controller versus playing with an arcade stick. Playing fighting games with controllers was competitively viable, but sticks were the way to go if you took the game seriously. It was more fun as well. In the end, both ways are competitive, albeit requiring different driving styles. Any lack of pace in a standard online race usually revolves around the inherent issue of the driver lacking pace. Back when I started playing a few weeks ago, I made tons of mistakes¨Cbut now, I got the hang of it back.


    I did have a wheel at one point, but it broke a long time ago. I dropped it while taking the clamps off the desk in my dorm room¡ªit had no chance against the tile flooring. As upset as I was at the time, the setup was basic, with the wheel not even having force feedback. I was more mad about the fact that the wheel only lasted three months and that I was dumb enough to throw the receipt and box away after setting it up the first time. A hundred dollars wasted. I should¡¯ve listened to my mother when it came to keeping receipts.


    <hr>


    After doing a few more races around the Nurburgring GP Circuit, I went back to the kitchen to get an afternoon beer. The box that I carried in earlier was still on the counter, not even moved. What the hell was Michael up to? I knew he wasn¡¯t streaming because he wasn¡¯t supposed to until tonight, according to his schedule. He was either sleeping or purposely ignoring the box.


    Going back to my desk, I shot Michael a message on Discord telling him that a box came for him. Not even thirty seconds later, I got a reply back from him:


    [¡°what??¡±]


    [¡°A huge box came for you. Has your name on it and everything¡±]


    [¡°i didnt have anything coming today¡­¡±]


    [¡°Well, it¡¯s for you, so come and get it. It¡¯s taking up space¡±]


    [¡°are you sure its for me?¡±]


    I left him on read after that since there wasn¡¯t a point in trying to force him to grab his box. I wasn¡¯t interested in having a back-and-forth over something that stupid. Instead, I decided to let it be and watch some TV in the living room.


    There was a basketball game on at the moment. It was in the middle of the NBA playoffs. Philadelphia was playing Boston. I knew next to nothing when it came to basketball, so all I did was lounge on the couch and drink my PBR. I didn¡¯t have a favorite pro basketball team. The team in Charlotte was not good, with its owner Michael Jordan seemingly rather wanting to run his NASCAR team. The team in Atlanta was better from what I knew, but not elite. Not good enough to become a bandwagon fan¡­not that I would ever do that in the first place. Anyway, I wasn¡¯t a partisan in this situation for once. Watching sports can be so much more fun when you have no dog in the fight. There¡¯s no heartbreak involved. Cowardly, but less tense.


    The couch here could recline, which meant I didn¡¯t have to lay on my side or put my feet on the coffee table to kick back. Thank you Landlord for the furnishment.


    It was a pretty exciting game so far, as with most basketball games during the playoff time. Now that the 82-game regular season was over, it was time for all the teams that advanced to the playoffs to give it their all. More than half the league made the playoffs each year, which made for prime entertainment. They went on for almost two months. Would I watch every game? Hell no, that¡¯s too much commitment for a sport I don¡¯t know or care about that much, but it doesn¡¯t stop me from wanting to tune in.


    Even though the playoffs were exciting, it wasn¡¯t enough to overcome the sudden drowsiness that had afflicted me. I had no reason not to give in. I reclined further until I was almost laying down. I couldn¡¯t even see the television anymore. Not that it mattered, since I got all the information I needed from the commentary. I closed my eyes as to rest them. What happened next could be anyone¡¯s guess.


    <hr>


    The sound of cardboard being ripped open shook me awake. Being half-asleep still, I looked around until I saw Michael looking inside the box he received today.


    ¡°When am I ever going to use this¡­¡± Michael was staring inside the box as if he had opened a Christmas present he didn¡¯t want. He continued to tear the box open with his bare hands, and pulled out another box that was almost the same size.


    The box had the words ¡°FRANATREC¡± and ¡°F1¡± on it. It took me a few seconds to put two and two together: Michael, or rather, ¡®Francis¡¯, was sent a racing wheel setup. And not just any racing wheel setup¨Ca real deal setup. A far cry from the ¡®cheap¡¯ racing wheel setup I had back in the day.


    I couldn¡¯t stop myself from saying ¡°Holy shit¡­¡± looking at the box. The setup he got went for well over $500 in my estimation. There was a racing YouTuber I watched that used a Franatrec wheel¨Cwhile he wasn¡¯t the flashiest driver or the fastest over one lap, he always had consistent lap times and rarely binned it (or was ¡®sent to the shadow realm¡¯ as he would say), which was just as important in online races as being fast was. His wheel definitely helped him out on that, giving him accurate feedback.


    Forgetting about the basketball game (Philly was definitely going to lose), I went up to the counter and started to admire it. I was going to get a crick in my neck if I admired it from the couch much longer.


    ¡°Is this a good racing wheel?¡± Michael asked, unaware of anything I was thinking of.


    ¡°It¡¯s one of the best out there.¡± I responded, a bit perplexed that he didn¡¯t know that this was coming. ¡°Did they tell you that you were getting this?¡± All he did to me was shrug and let out a deep sigh.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to ask my mane-san about this.¡± He seemed annoyed by the fact that he got sent this. I mean, it clearly had his name on the packaging, so it was meant to be sent to him, but how the fuck did they not tell him about this beforehand? It¡¯s one thing if it¡¯s some dinky MadCatz-tier controller that he¡¯s being sent to ¡®try out¡¯, but to be sent something like this without any heads-up was straight-up negligent. $500 was probably a drop in the bucket to AnyClover, but it was still a lot of money. I didn¡¯t pin Michael as the type of guy to play any racing game other than maybe Mario Kart. Whenever I had Formula 1 on in the living room, he almost always called it IndyCar instead whenever he stopped by the kitchen. Needless to say he wasn¡¯t a motorsport fan by any means. What the fuck was AnyClover thinking? It was times like this when I thought I could be a better manager than whoever he had. Living with the talent would probably be a nightmare for both of us however.


    <hr>


    Michael¡¯s manager got back to him ASAP, telling him that it was in fact not a mistake that the racing wheel setup was sent to him, and that it was heavily suggested that he do a ¡®sponsorship stream¡¯ for Franatrec. He was originally understandably pissed¨Cthat is, until his manager pointed out that he did in fact get an email sent about a week ago about it. He must have overlooked it. Still, only one email. Not even a reminder, or a second email. A failure on every front. No wonder NijiLive is bigger.


    Either way, he didn¡¯t even play racing games, and now they wanted him to stream himself playing with a setup that really only sim racers used. The only saving grace was that this stream didn¡¯t have a set schedule or plan. I knew Franatrec would want him to do it sooner rather than later, but other than that he had full reign to do anything he wanted. I haven¡¯t read the email he ignored, so I don¡¯t know what stipulations he has to follow, if any. At least he didn¡¯t have to play an off-brand gacha game like his coworkers.


    ¡°I bet you know way more about this, watching IndyCar on TV every time it''s on.¡± Casually ignoring him getting IndyCar and Formula 1 mixed up for the umpteenth time, he was right. I did know a bit more about racing games than him.


    ¡°Yeah, setting it up isn¡¯t as hard as it looks. As long as you have the space for it, you can plug it into your computer or your PS5.¡± It would probably be more complex than the beginner wheel I had, but it wasn¡¯t exactly rocket science.


    ¡°What¡¯s that racing game you¡¯ve been playing recently?¡± he inquired. I told him it was Gran Turismo 7. Honestly, it was a pretty solid choice for him if he was to do the sponsorship stream. I doubt he had it, but I know he could spare whatever it cost on the PlayStation Store at the moment. A few seconds after telling him, he gave me a look like the one he did when the Paqui chip came¨CI knew what he was going to ask me.


    ¡°Do you want to drive instead of me? It would be beneficial for the stream, and I know you would actually have a use for this.¡± Again, he was right. I would have a use for this¨CI knew that this would be going into his closet he has for all of the junk he uses for streams and would stay there until the end of time if I didn¡¯t take it off of his hands. Unlike the One Chip Challenge, I would have a monetary incentive this time around. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to.


    ¡°Why yes, I would love to drive instead of you.¡± Of course, I agreed to be on his future Franatrec sponsorship stream. I would be making as much as I do in a few hours as I do in a work week. The only detail that would have to be ironed out is what day to have it. Being a sponsored stream, it wasn¡¯t something that Michael could just ¡®guerilla¡¯. I could always call out if I wanted to, but that was a lot of work for something that would probably only last three hours at most. Decisions, decisions.


    <hr>


    Michael¡¯s PS5 was set up in a room adjacent to where he streamed¨Che rented three bedrooms out of four in this house. Those three were all on one end, while I had the master bedroom on the other side of the house. He had one where he actually slept and streamed at, another one for ¡®guests¡¯¨Cwhich I assumed would be his coworkers if they came around. I don¡¯t know why they would come out here and not vice versa, but it¡¯s their decision, not mine. That room was where most of his extra electronics and all the other random shit he bought went into. The closet was filled with stuff, but amazingly the rest of the room was kept up nicely. The third room was where he had his consoles set up. All of them except his Switch, which was the only console that he actually played often. That was the room where the broken gutter was outside of. His PS5 was collecting dust in the room, being rarely touched. Almost any game that he wanted to play was already on another system. The old ¡®PS3 has no games¡¯ joke applied as much, if not even more, to the PS5, if you added ¡®exclusive¡¯ to it. Gran Turismo 7 wasn¡¯t an exception to this, but his PS5 would be way more suitable to stream than on my PS4. It wouldn¡¯t make sense anyway because I would only be doxxing myself if he streamed it from my PSN account.


    All this meant that I was free to test out controls on the wheel while playing on his PS5. The game, as with most games these days, was a huge download, but was done in less than an hour thanks to our high-speed internet. One of the many benefits of having a streamer roommate. Once that was done, all I had to do was get through the ¡®cafe menus¡¯ so I could go online. That was where the real fun was.


    In the build-up to the stream, Michael decided on the format that would incorporate his talents¨Che would be a live commentator on the races I did. Joining him was Violet, who also wanted to be in the booth for whatever reason. Not that I didn¡¯t mind, but she probably knew less about driving than Michael did. I doubt that she even knew how to drive¡­sorry, that was sexist of me. I highly doubt she has a driver¡¯s license though.


    We decided on Thursday of the upcoming week as the stream date. I didn¡¯t have to work that day, and there were no pertinent scheduling conflicts with Michael.


    <hr>


    It was the day of the sponsorship stream. I would say that it was ¡®dreaded¡¯, but to be honest, I was pretty ambivalent about it. Nervous, sure, but it wasn¡¯t like I was going to be stream sniped. It was true that I would be on stream for the purpose of shilling a product. On the flipside, I was actually getting something out of it. And it wasn¡¯t like I was going to play a shitty gacha game. Gran Turismo is a well-established racing game series, and more importantly, Franatrec is a well-established racing sim gear company.


    Most of the time building up was spent with me further ¡®testing out¡¯ the wheel. To be honest, the wheel drove like a dream. There weren¡¯t any major faults with it, as you would expect for a wheel setup that went for five hundred US dollars. I still found it bizarre that Franatrec wanted to do a sponsorship stream with a VTuber. And one that didn¡¯t talk about racing games whatsoever. It wasn¡¯t like Michael could do anything other than show off the vacant setup. That proves nothing other than it¡¯s actually there. Pretty much every racing sim YouTuber with a wheel setup had it on display in the video if they used a webcam. We didn¡¯t have the privilege of that, unless we wanted to destroy our veil of anonymity.  It made no sense. Did Franatrec even know what a Virtual YouTuber was? Did they grasp that the ¡®Virtual¡¯ part meant ¡®not in real life¡¯? And why did AnyClover go along with this? What¡¯s next? Are they going to get Michael to do Manscaped ads? Violet to gamble fake money on one of the billion CS:GO gambling sites? The entire AnyClover EN roster being forced to shill for an off-brand cryptocurrency?


    That was a huge slippery slope I was describing¨Cone that was mostly tongue-in-cheek. Whether or not it made sense, Michael was going to do a Franatrec sponsorship stream, and I was going to be on the wheel. Violet was going to be there too, giving play-by-play commentary while Michael did the same thing. The lack of color commentary would be concerning if this was a more official event. Since this was a demonstration with the most ¡®serious¡¯ races being twenty-minute-long daily races, it wouldn¡¯t be missed. No one tuning in would give a shit about the lack of ¡®expert analysis¡¯.


    Thankfully, I wasn¡¯t going to speak this time¨CI told Michael that I didn¡¯t want to be mic¡¯d up. I didn¡¯t really talk while racing in-game in the first place, and having my voice pitched up or down would only take away from the stream.


    On my side, preparing for this stream was simple. The hardest part was when I originally set up the wheel. There were so many buttons on it that it confused me. Before I got on the wheel and tested it out, I did the first cafe menu with the PS5 controller¨CI was perplexed by the fact that it had force feedback. Trying to brake my Honda Fit felt like trying to brake a bulldozer going downhill. It took me by surprise, causing me to crash head-on into digital hay bales that stopped me instantly. The gas also had force feedback, which was less startling since it wasn¡¯t like a Honda Fit would accelerate out of control. After that race (I won easily after that hiccup on the first try), I switched to the wheel.


    I¡¯ve practiced daily since then. There was a learning curve, but it wasn¡¯t anything like learning how to drive on a controller. I already had the fundamentals down when it came to driving¨Ctransferring that from a controller to a wheel wasn¡¯t a hard process. Was I suddenly a pro with this wheel? No, but it only took a day of driving for me to get to the same pace I was on a controller. It wasn¡¯t like I was entering a competition or anything, but I wanted to be on my A game if I was going to be on stream. Also, I honestly really enjoyed playing with the wheel. It was a whole new experience. The wheel came with a ¡®wheel base¡¯, which attached to the wheel and was what provided the force feedback to it. That force feedback was wanted, by me at least. It wasn¡¯t like I hated it, it was more that I hated it when it took me by surprise. I didn¡¯t want it on a controller whatsoever. The rumbling it did was distracting enough. My other ¡®cheap¡¯ wheel didn¡¯t have any force feedback at all, which really highlighted how basic it was. Well, it wasn¡¯t that bad, but it was nothing compared to this. This was the gold standard as far as I knew. To get an even better setup would involve spending 4-figures or even more. Needless to say, I had a blast ¡®practicing¡¯ for today¡¯s stream.


    It was about time to start. All Michael had to do was post the link to it on Twitter and do his intro. I didn¡¯t know how he was going to get Violet to also see the gameplay in real-time, but he somehow managed. He even also got it so Violet¡¯s model was right next to his. Also had a png of microphones that hovered below the two. It was a proper collab stream. Probably the best thing Franatrec could hope for, all things considered. He was in the corner of the room, sitting his laptop and his huge ass microphone on a TV dinner tray. He ran a cord from the laptop to the PS5, which I guess was how he got the footage. I was within spitting distance, but I would be a silent operator today. I had headphones plugged in so I wouldn¡¯t be distracted by the man talking to the side. No speaking, just driving. With the nature of the stream, the intros would be very brief, which was beneficial to me since I would rather not sit in a chair and be delayed by thirty minutes due to his meandering.


    We would be going to go on several different races this stream¨Cthe first one was going to be a custom track that didn¡¯t exist in real life. You¡¯ll understand why soon.


    Our first race was the ¡®Daily Race A¡¯ of the week. Gran Turismo 7 had three races that they hosted throughout the week. The Daily Race A race was usually the most casual of the three. This week was no exception. It was a one-lap race held around ¡®Special Stage Route X¡¯¨Ca 30 kilometer (18.6 mile) long oval circuit that had two 11 kilometer (6.8 mile) long straights and two 4 kilometer (2.5 mile) long corners, with banking ranging from zero to sixty degrees. It was by far the longest track in the game. The fastest overall too, considering that you didn¡¯t have to brake any while racing on it. The track was shaped like a paperclip¨Cno need to post a track map.


    In order for this race to not be a snoozefest, the cars specified for this race were tuned to be rocket ships in a straight line. There were ten cars that were available for this race¨Conly one was the ¡®meta car¡¯ however. The Mercedes-AMG GT Black Series. In reality, there weren¡¯t that many differences between each car. The BoP (Balance of Performance) equalized all of the cars to a certain extent, and due to the nature of the race, all you had to do was stay in the draft of the lead pack in order to have a chance of winning. Indeed, the name of the game for any race on Special Stage Route X was to stay in the tow of another car. If you lost it, you had to either use the nitrous allocated to you earlier than others to or pray that the lead pack got their elbows out and slowed themselves down to within three-fourths of a second ahead of you. The racing resembled NASCAR racing at superspeedways such as Daytona or Talladega, only turned up to 11. For those who aren¡¯t familiar with NASCAR¨Cthink of bicycle racing. If you weren¡¯t familiar with that, well, then you¡¯re shit out of luck. Even if all of the cars were equal in theory, the Mercedes was still the best car of them all. Subtle changes mattered a lot in racing games. I had no idea what made the Mercedes the meta car, but if I had to guess, it had the highest top speed out of all of the cars.


    ¡°Holy cow, that¡¯s a long track!¡± said Violet once she first saw it. I was able to listen to her and Michael¡¯s commentary by tuning into the call they were in. Earbuds under the headphones. With only two minutes to go before the race started, I went out on the track just for kicks. I didn¡¯t have time to qualify. A full lap around the track still took over four minutes even in a car that went over 270 miles per hour. It was completely okay however since qualifying meant little to nothing in this race. Again, all you have to do is stay in the tow.


    In the lobby with me were nine other people driving the Mercedes. Three others picked the Bugatti Chiron, which seemed to be the second-best car for this event. Prior experience would¡¯ve left me to believe that the Bugatti was the fastest car available, but for whatever reason it was only second-fastest. Since I had no qualifying time, I started plum last in twelfth. This race had a rolling start, which meant we had to be pressing down on the pedal as soon as the lights went out. There was no need to worry about wheel spin in this sort of race. It took zero skill to compete in this race. Winning was another matter. It was a horrible way to show off the Franatrec wheel, truth be told. The race itself relied on strategy and knowing when to use the nitrous that was provided. The meta strategy would be to save the nitrous until halfway through the last corner, where you would start using it, and not stop until it ran out close to the finish line. All you had to do until then was keep it clean, not lose the draft, and not get any silly penalties. Easier said than done.


    Before the commentators and chat knew it, we were off. Starting in last, I used a tiny bit of nitrous just to make sure I could stay in the draft of the car in front of me. Before Michael and Violet knew it, we were going 100, then 150, then 200 miles per hour. Thankfully the car in front of me was cooperating and let me bump draft them. Bump drafting was a tactic where a car gets to the rear of another car and gently bumps them forward. This causes the car in front to go faster, and in return lets the car behind go faster, granted it stays in the draft of the car in front. In real life this tactic was seldom used outside of NASCAR races at superspeedways. In games such as Gran Turismo 7, where bodywear damage wasn¡¯t anywhere near being realistic, one could deploy this tactic to gain time down a straight. Granted, this always didn¡¯t go well. The car in front could not know what you¡¯re doing, and think you¡¯re trying to run them off the road. I¡¯ve had this happen to me more than once. They could also weave across the road, as to break the tow¨Cwhich would make sense in almost every other race, but was the opposite of what you want to do in this one. Since Gran Turismo 7 didn¡¯t have voice chat, it was impossible to tell the guy in front of you what you were doing. You had to either tough it out or somehow find a way past them¨Csomething that wasn¡¯t easy if you were driving a track like Special Stage Route X. You also could only bump draft while driving on a straight. On a track with large banking in the long corners like Daytona or this track, you could get away with bump drafting, but it wasn¡¯t always the smartest thing to do. It was easy to unsettle the car in front of you, which in turn would most likely end up with you either getting slowed down or being involved in an incident. In real life, you would be black flagged and likely punched deservingly for doing such a dangerous maneuver.


    Going uphill (Special Stage Route X had a section of straight that went what seemed like a mile up in the sky), we were approaching max speed. Going past 250 miles per hour, all I could hear was Michael saying ¡°Keep your foot on the pedal!¡± and Violet wondering why ¡°we were all bumping into each other¡±. At this point in the race, we were all in a single file. I gained two places¨CI was still far back in the pack, being in 10th place, but I was only seven-tenths of a second behind the leader. It didn¡¯t matter if I was first or last at this point. All that mattered was that I was in the lead pack.


    After we started declining from the mile high ascent, a car ahead of me suddenly pulled out to the left, pulling out of the tow. Normally this would be a suicidal move in terms of chances of winning, but luckily for them another car pulled out with them, effectively creating a second lane for those who also wanted to join. As for myself, I was staying in my lane¨Cno need to make things more complicated for no reason. We still had a lot of the race to go. I would¡¯ve probably gone with them if we were approaching the final turns, but position still wasn¡¯t important at this point. The left side was close to the wall as well, which left little room for error. Room that you needed often in online races.


    At the end of the decline, the two packs suddenly turned into three, then became a jumbled mess. Whether you wanted to or not, you were fighting for position. It wasn¡¯t what I wanted, but at least it made for some exciting racing. Seeing cars drift left and right allowed for the pack to further bunch up, resembling the last lap of a NASCAR superspeedway race. Michael and Violet were encouraging me to pass those who formed other lanes. Thankfully, I was able to gain a further five positions due to the scattering of the field. I didn¡¯t care what happened to the right of me, but I wanted to clear the cars to the left of me. If not, my race could be over soon.


    To show my reason for staying in the middle lane, I changed the POV to one that showed a wider view of the entire pack. I switched the camera to show what was behind me¨Cwe were nearing the end of the first straight. The rear-view camera, showing a wider FOV than the front bumper view I usually used, showed how vast and open the track was. There was not a cloud in the sky. Was it a beautiful day? I would describe it more as dystopian, but I didn¡¯t have time to further elaborate. Eyes on the road, especially for this next part. With that came a sudden narrowing of the left lane. One that seemed obvious due to the surface being a lighter shade of grey than the dark grey tarmac the rest of the road was. The guardrail narrowing up would most likely catch someone off guard. That was the reason why it was imperative that I either clear the cars to the left of me, or veer right in avoidance of the inevitable.


    As if they saw they were on stream, the cars in the left lane merged back with the middle lane¨Call except the last car, which didn¡¯t turn in time and in term bounced off the guardrail. Going 270 miles per hour, the inertia of the car bounced back on the track and speared into a car further down the grid. The carnage would¡¯ve been even worse if both cars didn¡¯t ghost out immediately after starting the world¡¯s fastest crash.


    Artist rendition of what I dubbed ¡®The World¡¯s Fastest Crash¡¯--sorry for the lack of quality. Drawing cars isn¡¯t in my wheelhouse, so you¡¯ll have to settle with a recreation of the radar screen. Also, I take no responsibility if I lied about this being ¡®The World¡¯s Fastest Crash¡¯. If you can find any faster crashes, please DM them to Michael.


    I only had time to show the crash for a second, as the turn coming up would claim me if I wasn¡¯t paying attention. It was enough time to show the two crashing cars disappearing into the background, their race over. ¡°Holy cow!¡± yelled Violet, with Michael saying ¡°Holy shit!¡± in unison. As someone who''s done this race several times in the past, and has done thousands of races total, this wasn¡¯t out of the ordinary for an online race. In any online racing game, not just Gran Turismo 7. I was just glad that I was ahead of them. I could feel the direct drive while turning the Mercedes right, but it wasn¡¯t anything too strong. I¡¯ve seen videos of sim racers almost breaking their wrists due to the steering wheel suddenly snapping in one direction due to a sudden change in motion, usually from being speared by another car, or just losing it by themselves and smacking a wall. It was the price you paid for realism. In real life, racers moved their hands away from the wheel if they were spinning out of control with no hope of saving it. In game though, there was little price to pay if you crashed¨Cother than your race being ruined, and your wrists being shattered if direct drive gave a little too much feedback.


    <hr>


    After the antics at the end of the first straight, the race went to a lull for the next minute. We were still going 270 miles per hour trading places, but there were no drivers going wild on the track. All ten cars left with a chance to win were within a second of each other. We remained two-file for most of the second straight, until the tunnel section started.


    The tunnel section was over a kilometer long, but at the rate of speed we were all going, we were only in there for about ten seconds. We were covering a football field a second, with no plan to stop unless external forces made us.


    As we all neared the end of the straight, the guardrail narrowed again like the straight before. Thankfully everyone kept their wits about them and didn¡¯t try to brute force a left lane.


    As the third turn started, I started hovering my thumb over the de facto nitrous button on the wheel. Thankfully I only used a little of it at the start, which left me in prime position to win¡­that is, if everything went the way I wanted it to. Most races require a little bit of luck to win¨Cthis one required about as much luck as skill. I¡¯d slipped back to sixth place during the duration of the second straight, thanks to the second lane forming to my right. There wasn¡¯t much I could do about it except try to take people out, which was a no-go since it would suck the fun out of the race, plus would also slow me down. I would also get a time penalty.


    Those in the lower lane started to dive lower, as to reduce the amount of track they had to drive. The lower lanes had less banking. In normal circumstances, this would almost result in them either having massive understeer or losing speed, but as you might already expect, this race was different. We had ¡®Comfort Soft¡¯ tires on¨Cnot the best tires, but good enough for this race. The level of speed we were going also created an amount of downforce that allowed cars to be able to maintain traction even at the bottom lane. At least that¡¯s what I think was allowing us to do this. There was still some loss of speed, but it would pay off if you were able to maintain a good line. Having nitrous also helped.


    As turn three turned into turn four, I also started using my nitrous. I decided to stay in the lane above them¨CI did gradually inch my car lower, but I was avoiding the risk of me going too low and either sideswiping another car or oversteering too low. I was following the two cars in the lane ahead of me, taking the most of the slipstream that I could get. I was guessing that they were also using their nitrous, which would hopefully give me a ¡®Double DRS¡¯-like effect. I was also hoping that they had less nitrous than me¨Cotherwise I would have to hope that they either have horrible exits out of turn four or get collected in an accident. For a race that lasted less than five minutes, it was a real war of attrition. The fact that ten of us had a chance to win was odd. Usually there¡¯s only three to six cars that are still in the lead pack by this time. An accident or three was about to happen.


    ¡°Get lower! Get lower!!¡± Violet screamed for some reason, abandoning her role as a commentator and becoming my spotter/race engineer. I would get low, but there was a car inching higher and higher. I didn¡¯t know if they were experiencing understeer or if they were trying to get higher. It wasn¡¯t the optimal line, but there wasn¡¯t anything I could do to get them to dive lower that didn¡¯t involve trading paint with them. Stepping off the gas even for a microsecond was not an option. Not this late into the race. If I had the ability to radio back to Violet, I would¡¯ve told her ¡°Leave me alone, I know what I¡¯m doing!¡±.


    Exiting turn four, all of my attention was paid towards the guy nudging up below me¨Cat this rate, he was going to compromise any chance of me winning. I was so worried about what to do with him that I didn¡¯t notice that a car behind me had slingshotted to my left, which effectively gave me no room to move¨Cwhat happened next was inevitable.


    The car below tried to rub doors with me in order to shove me higher, but it only caused me to run into the side of the car above me. The car above and I were perfectly alongside each other, but the car below me was ahead by about half a car-width. It was too late to back out, and even if I had the chance, I wouldn¡¯t have. The car below got turned by me, or rather, turned itself, into the guardrail up top, seemingly turning left on the end of a right-hand turn. The force feedback might have been turned down too low, as I was able to turn the wheel sharply to the right in reaction to the crash I was sandwiched in.


    I shook off the car that was below me, but also shot down below to the bottom line. We were back on the first straight, less than a kilometer away from the end. I had separated myself from the others, but I had overcorrected. I was now fishtailing. I was fighting for my life to correct it, but in my attempt I hit another car which caused me to ricochet back low. Where the hell did they come from! I fought for my life to get back up higher, but it was all for naught, as I had accidentally driven into the pitlane.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    My rendition of the two separate incidents I was in. Look up ¡®2017 Singapore GP start¡¯ on YouTube if you want to see what a crash like this would look like in real life.


    With the force of inertia pushing me into the pitlane, I dropped from what could¡¯ve been a podium finish to eighth place. The pit lane automatically slows your car down to pit lane speed¨Cignoring the fact that slowing down from 250 miles per hour to 70 in one frame would¡¯ve killed me in real life, I had to suffer crawling at a snail¡¯s pace while everyone other than those who crashed two minutes ago sped past me. This was a fate worse than death.


    Both Michael and Violet were beside themselves at what just happened. My wrists were okay since I had the force feedback turned down, but my ego was heavily fractured. To add insult to injury, I was given a four second penalty by the stewards for ¡®causing an incident¡¯. I mean, I technically did, but it wasn¡¯t my fault by any means. Too bad ¡®losing control¡¯ isn¡¯t a good enough reason to be given a break. If this was a real race, what I would¡¯ve said about the stewards about that penalty would get the stream instantly demonetized.


    As the saying goes, there¡¯s no use crying over spilled milk. The silver lining to this was that it provided great entertainment for those who were watching. I couldn¡¯t see what they were saying, but they seemed to be roasting Violet for being a ¡®bad spotter¡¯ by the fact that she was saying things such as ¡°What the heck! You guys are being so mean!¡±. They were right to grill her, since her advice would¡¯ve made me the reason why that wreck happened. She sucked at spotting¨Cshe didn¡¯t tell me shit I didn¡¯t already know and didn¡¯t spot the car above me either. I couldn¡¯t tell her that though since it would be mean to. She was trying her best, even if it was probably better for her to say nothing.


    After the race, I got pinged twice by someone named ¡°LOWGEARGOD¡±, who had some choice words to say:


    [LOWGEARGOD: @francisf YOU SHOULD OUTBRAKE YOURSELF]


    [LOWGEARGOD: @francisf NOW]


    Whoever ¡®LOWGEARGOD¡¯ was, they clearly weren¡¯t happy with the way I drove¨CI get it, but what else do you expect from a race as chaotic as this? It wasn¡¯t like anyone¡¯s sportsmanship rating (SR) or driver rating (DR) was affected. Daily Race A typically didn¡¯t have any effect on those, so it didn¡¯t matter if you finished first or last. If it did, then everyone¡¯s SR rating would go down the toilet. I don¡¯t even remember seeing this guy during the race.


    To be honest, it was a mistake to do this race for the reason that it really didn¡¯t show the benefits of using a Franatrec wheel setup. On races like these, there was very little wheel input needed¨Cit was the opposite of a ¡®technical¡¯ race. You could use an Atari joystick to drive this.


    With that in mind, I exited out of daily races for now and decided to do a time trial instead.


    <hr>


    The track I was driving on was the pinnacle of the Gran Turismo series. The Nurburgring was the track that set Gran Turismo apart from other racing games. Being in the game ever since Gran Turismo 4, it was a staple of the series. The Nurburgring Grand Prix circuit was frequently used in Daily Races, and had been used in real life in Formula 1 in the past and¨Cit being an infrequent guest. It had also been used in the WEC (World Endurance Championship), and was currently used by DTM (Deutsche Tourenwagen Masters). The Grand Prix circuit had challenges of its own, but it wasn¡¯t what made the Nurburgring special. To show that, we went to the Nordschleife.


    As you can already guess, the Nordschleife was a circuit that exists in real life somewhere in Germany. As a kid, I often made the mistake of calling it the ¡®Nurembergring¡¯. A mistake I didn¡¯t fix until I was probably 19. While they share similar names and are in the same country, they¡¯re known for very different reasons. The only rallies going on in Nurburg were of the rallycross kind.


    The Nordschleife also hosted its fair share of races¨Cwith Formula 1 racing there until 1976, when Niki Lauda had a near-fatal accident that blatantly showed that the track was too dangerous for formula racing, even with ¡®new¡¯ safety changes that were introduced earlier that decade. You can watch the movie Rush if you want to know more about the events behind Lauda¡¯s crash¨Cit¡¯s a good movie.


    Despite Formula 1¡¯s absence, ¡®The Green Hell¡¯, as Sir Jackie Stewart once nicknamed it, is still regularly raced to this day, with its crown jewel event being the Nurburgring 24 Hours. The cars racing there aren¡¯t anywhere as fast or had as much downforce as Formula 1, but it''s every bit as exciting, if not more. Grand tourer cars can actually go door-to-door without the threat of the tires flying off. They were road legal as well¨Cor at least had road legal versions. The latest iteration of the race was streamed live on YouTube as well, which made viewing it as easy as having internet access. If you¡¯re interested in watching, search ¡®ADAC TotalEnergies 24h Nurburgring¡¯ on YouTube.


    The track itself was settled in the Eifel Mountains. Elevation changed more than a thousand feet during each lap, which along with the over hundred and fifty turns made it one of the most challenging tracks in the world. If Special Stage Route X was dystopian, then the Nurburgring Nordschlife was utopian. The scenery reminded me of driving down winding roads in the Appalachian Mountians. You could really be one with nature here.


    I was driving on the 24 Hour Circuit that they used, driving the Group 3 Ferrari 458 Italia¨CI was able to download a Ferrari F1-themed livery. There were only NijiLive VTuber-themed liveries, so going that route would¡¯ve been troublesome. Would it give me a few tenths in pace? Doubtful, but it looked nice.


    The Nurburgring 24 Hour Track (Nordschleife+GP Circuit without the Mercedes-Arena part). This track was one of eight circuit variations currently in use. The ¡®GP Circuit¡¯ is the bottom left section. Everything else is the Nordschleife. In total it is 25.4 kilometers (15.8 miles) long. Sorry for the corner names being in German, it was the best version of the track map available. Thanks to ¡®Pitlane02</a>¡¯ for making this. Any mention of a corner below will use the German version so as to not confuse those reading.


    Starting my time trial, I had no real goal in mind other than to survive. This track was what I called a ¡®PvE¡¯ track, meaning that you were already winning if you didn¡¯t go off the road. There were not many places to go two-wide¨Cmost of the overtaking would have to happen on the Grand Prix section, or going into Aremberg, Bergwerk, or down the Dottinger Hohe. Passing for position anywhere else would be very gutsy¨Cyou¡¯d more than likely either go off track or push another car off if you tried in game (or in real life). It didn¡¯t prevent some people from divebombing from a mile away in random corners. Some racers took that Senna quote too literally. Luckily for me, this was a time trial. I could go at any pace as I pleased.


    <hr>


    For the next hour and some change, I plugged away many laps¨Cat first I was having the car step out in the back due to being too eager on the gas, still used to driving that Mercedes. Fortunately, it took only a few corners for me to stop doing that. Good thing the lap started in the Grand Prix section, where the track was wider and more forgiving.


    The Ferrari was quite easy to drive, all things considered. The Franatrec wheel played a huge part in this, allowing me to be more precise. The direct drive gave me subliminal information that otherwise couldn¡¯t be accessed if I was using a controller or the dinky wheel I had back in the day. The feel of a car under you is the one detail that sim racing still has to work on, but it¡¯s getting there. I didn¡¯t try to go all out here, since that would result in me going off more often than completing a lap. The wipeouts would be entertaining, but we were trying to promote this wheel¨Ccrashing every lap wouldn¡¯t be smart. We weren¡¯t qualifying¨Call I had to do is keep it clean.


    As for Michael and Violet, they mostly talked about other things, like the new Zelda game and MOBAs. They weren¡¯t talking about the time trial at all! I wasn¡¯t paying attention to their conversation, but from what I heard, Violet stopped being into them a few years ago. I don¡¯t blame her, I never liked them anyways.


    The few moments where either of them actually did some commentary were funny. The first time I drove around the Karussell, Violet said ¡®Weee~!¡¯ like she was actually on a carousel. I can¡¯t deny, it was a very fun corner when you got it right¨Cotherwise it was a real bitch. If you went too slow, you risked going too low, having the kerb grab your tires, and spinning you into the grass. If you went too fast, then you would oversteer to the top line, which is less than optimal if you¡¯re going for a hot lap. Of the over 70 corners that were on the Nordschleife, the Karussell was the most famous of them all.


    Another highlight, or rather lowlight for me, happened when I was on my third hot lap. I was nearing the end of the lap when I got myself involved in a freakshow accident.


    I was flying around the Pflanzgarten section when my phone started to ring. I didn¡¯t know who it was, nor really cared, but nonetheless it got my attention enough to not put enough steering input into the wheel. Instead of avoiding the kerb, like one should do, my front left tire clattered it. Normally this would be fine, but unbeknownst to me, the kerb was also a launch pad if you hit it just right. Hitting the kerb going at around 130 miles per hour, my Ferrari launched into the air. At first, I had hope of potentially saving it. That hope immediately ended once all four wheels landed in the middle of the track. I was sliding towards the guardrail on the right¨Cno amount of steering input or mashing on the brakes could save my little red Ferrari from the inevitable.


    As if I was actually driving in real life, I let go of the steering wheel and put them close to my chest. Keeping my hands on the wheel was one way to injure them easily, as I detailed earlier in this chapter. The Ferrari hit the guardrail going around 70 miles per hour, and immediately stopped. I have no idea how much g-force the crash would¡¯ve been in real life, but I know it would¡¯ve given me a severe case of whiplash at best.


    My recreation of the crash I had on the ¡®Pflanzgarten¡¯ section of the Nordscheife. The white dotted line is where I went, and the yellow is where the ¡®optimal¡¯ line was. Red indicates where the kerbs were. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re smart enough to know what the red and green represent. Thanks to ¡®Nordschleife-btg</a>¡¯ for giving me a reference to show you guys.


    Michael and Violet were both caught off guard at my error, both gasping when I speared the guardrail. They were still on their Zelda talk not paying attention at all to my ¡®fast¡¯ lap¨Cwhich was still some 30 seconds off of top time. Violet shouted ¡®holy frick!¡¯ while Michael looked at me to see if I was okay. Other than the force feedback surprising me, I was okay. I gave him a thumbs up and then got my Ferrari out of the grass. Damage in this game ¡®disappears¡¯ after like thirty seconds, so all I had to do was keep it clean until the damage went away and my tires were clean.


    While Violet was defending my suboptimal driving and Michael was laughing and telling chat that I was ¡®going on brb¡¯, I checked to see who called¨Cit was a wrong number call¡­this was the sixth time that this same number had called me this year. I know because each time, an older wispy sounding man left a voicemail. This time was no different.


    [¡°Hey Louis, this is Rudoph, just calling to see whatcha up to¡­ehhh, are you working hard? Haven¡¯t heard from you lately¡­ehhh¡­I¡¯ll talk to you later, bye¡­call on the house phone, ehh¡­talk to you later, bye.¡±]


    I didn¡¯t have the heart to tell Rudolph that he had been calling the wrong number after all of this time. You would think that he would get a clue after the third time I didn¡¯t answer, but then again I didn¡¯t know if this was an everytime occurrence when he tried to call ¡®Louis¡¯, or if this only happened when he dialed my number instead of Louis¡¯s. Also made me wonder if he did this to other people. This happened like twice a month, so it wasn¡¯t that annoying. Just horrible timing Rudolph. Come on man, I¡¯m driving The Green Hell. I need to concentrate.


    <hr>


    After nine laps, I decided to finish off the stream with another daily race. I¡¯d be doing Daily Race C, which was a longer set race than race A and B. Daily Race B was a 5 lap race around Interlagos in Group 4 cars. It would be a fun race, but not what I wanted to end the stream on¡­I wanted to end on a more exciting note.


    Daily Race C was a five lap race around the Circuit de la Sarthe, otherwise known as the Circuit des 24 Heures du Mans, or ¡®the track they use for the 24 Hours of Le Mans¡¯ for those who don¡¯t watch endurance races. The 24 Hours of Le Mans is one of the most prestigious races in the world. Even if you have never watched a race in your life, you probably know of it. It rivaled the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, the Circuit de Monaco, the Nurburgring Nordschleife we were just on, and the Daytona International Speedway when it came to the fame it had.


    The Circuit de la Sarthe, the track used for The 24 Hours of Le Mans. This isn¡¯t the most accurate track map available, but it is the cleanest I can find, with the most accurate map also containing all of the public roads in and around the circuit. While it would be interesting to include that track map, it would only serve to confuse those not familiar with Le Mans. The circuit in all is 13.6 kilometers (8.5 miles) long. The area in grey is the ¡®Bugatti Circuit¡¯, most known in the Motorcycle racing world. Fun fact: Before they added the two chicanes on the Mulsanne Staight, it was considered the longest straight in the racing world, being 6 kilometers (3.7 miles) long. Longer than the Dottinger Hohe on the Nordschlife. This track map is Public Domain, but I would like to thank Alexander Jones</a> anyway.


    We would be racing Group 1 cars, which contained the top class of cars they drove during Le Mans. There were three types of Group 1 cars: The first were ¡®Group C¡¯ cars. Despite being the oldest cars in Group 1, they were the fastest of them all. That speed came with two caveats. The first was handling¨CGroup C cars, from my experience, were real bitches to drive. To those who haven¡¯t put the proper time into learning them, they turned like a boat. If you tried to brake at the same point a Hypercar brakes today, you would either suffer from severe understeer or miss the turn completely. You would wreck yours and probably others races. The time you would gain down straights would make up for the time you lost in the corners, but the second caveat was something you couldn¡¯t avoid¨Cit drank gas like a madman. With this race having 7x fuel use, you would be forced to pit for fuel if you drove a Group C car. Either that, or you would have to fuelsave a lot more than if you drove a car that had a hybrid, which would eliminate the straight-line speed advantage that Group C cars had. At that point, you might as well drive the other car. No amount of straight-line speed could erase the 25-second loss pitting would have. Especially since we were racing on the version of Le Mans that had the two chicanes on the Mulsanne Straight¨Cif we were racing on the pre-1990 version of the Circuit de la Sarthe, then Group C cars would be the only logical option. With that being said, a dark horse for this race was the Mazda 787B. I didn¡¯t do enough research to know why some chose this beast, but if I had to guess, it was because it was the best Group C car when it came to downforce. It was the ¡®newest¡¯ of the Group C cars in-game, with the in-game model being from 1991¨Cit was the only Group C car in the game that was raced after the Mulsanne Straight chicanes were introduced. Some people liked their rotary engines as well. I did¨Cthey were the loudest thing other than a crying baby. Plus the car looked sexy with the famous Renown livery. The strategy for Group C cars would probably be to go flat out for the first two-three laps, pit for fuel, and then continue going flat out. Could work if your opponents were slow or inexperienced, but against drivers that knew what they were doing, it would be hard to win this race in a Group C car.


    The second type of Group 1 cars were more contemporary. They comprised of ¡®Le Mans Prototype 1¡¯ (LMP1) cars and the ¡®new¡¯ Toyota GR010 Hybrid, which was a ¡®Le Mans Hypercar¡¯ (LMH). You would expect that the Toyota Hypercar would be the best car out of this bunch, since it was the newest of all of the Group 1 cars (that existed in real life, I¡¯ll get to that soon), but it wasn¡¯t. In real life it was slower than its LMP1 predecessor as well. Motorsport regulations and all of that. Anyway¨Cthese cars had hybrids, which made it easier to save fuel. They weren¡¯t the monsters on the straights that the Group C cars were, but they had way more downforce, which let them carry more speed through corners. They were ¡®easier¡¯ to drive as well, since you didn¡¯t have to brake as early or be as careful on the gas. The car of choice in this class, and the meta car for this race, was the Porsche 919 Hybrid. It would be the car I was using, and probably the car that more than three-fourths of other people racing would use. It was all-around the best car to use. Fuel saving was still a priority, but it wasn¡¯t that drastic. Upshifting half-way in each gear should do the trick.


    The third, and final, type of Group 1 cars were the ¡®Version Gran Tursimo¡¯ (VGT) cars. These were concept cars that, to my knowledge, only existed in the game. I¡¯m still waiting for the Nike ONE 2022 from Gran Turismo 4 to pop-up in real life¡­. The only VGT car that I saw as usable was the Mazda LM55 VGT. At least one driver per race would use it or another VGT car.  I didn¡¯t know why, but variety is the spice of life I guess. It did look cool. Not as cool as the 787B though. Just my opinion.


    With all of that out of the way, I hopped onto a race. Unlike Daily Race A and B, Daily Race C only happened twice an hour. It made sense due to it being longer. It was a twenty-five minute long race while the other two races were approximately fifteen minutes long. The Special Stage Route X race was only five minutes long, but that race was a huge outlier. I had around ten minutes until the race started, which gave me enough time to acclimate myself to the 919 Hybrid I was driving. It was very easy to put too much throttle into it and spin yourself out. Better to do that while practicing than in the race. There was also a possibility of rain¨Ca small chance, but something to keep in mind.


    <hr>


    Just like that, ten minutes went by.¡­I was able to get two full laps in. I could¡¯ve gotten one more, but that would¡¯ve required me to not spin out any. I didn¡¯t improve my best lap time, but it wasn¡¯t that big of a deal. The 787B was the qualifying car anyways, so I couldn¡¯t even beat my top time if I wanted to. The qualifying times you put in counted for the whole week that specific race was running¨Cif you had a blazing fast time, you wouldn¡¯t have to worry about starting from the back ever. If you had a slow time, you would almost always be starting from the rear.


    Loading into the lobby, the first messages I saw were:


    [FormulaJosh: @LOWGEARGOD dirty driver alert]


    [LOWGEARGOD: @FormulaJosh ST*FU]


    It turned out that our friend LOWGEARGOD had made a name for himself in the hour or so we were away from daily races. I never expected him to pop up here as well. He was starting in seventh. I was starting fifth. That meant that we would most definitely come across each other. He was driving the 787B, so if he was able to keep it on the track, he would most likely blaze past me on the first part of the Mulsanne. Seeing as FormulaJosh was on pole, I can only guess that LOWGEARGOD probably rear-ended him into a corner. FormulaJosh was also driving a 919 Hybrid, as with everyone else, sans LOWGEARGOD and a couple of drivers near the back of the grid.


    With Michael and Violet fighting chat over what the pronunciation of Porsche was (it¡¯s ¡®Por-shuh¡¯, although I do find myself saying it without the ¡®-uh¡¯ at times. I understand why Michael would think it¡¯s ¡®Porsh¡¯, but I don¡¯t understand how Violet would think it¡¯s ¡®Poor-shee¡¯. I bet the car guys in chat were roasting them both right now. I would have to check back once the stream is over.), the race finally started.


    Thankfully, the first section went cleanly. Usually, there was a pileup imminent going into the Dunlop Chicane, but we managed to avoid one this time¡­there was probably one further back though. No time to look back to check since we needed to nail the Esses and Tertre Rouge. In the winding parts of the track the Porsche would be faster, but once we got on the Mulsanne, it was inevitable that LOWGEARGOD would pass us all, granted that he didn¡¯t bin it, which he didn¡¯t. There was no way of stopping him from passing us down the straight that wouldn¡¯t be black-flaggable, so all I could do was watch him go by half-way down the first section of the Mulsanne. We would gain time in the chicane, but it wasn¡¯t enough to overtake him back. I didn¡¯t want to overtake him anyway, since that would only lose me time if I fought him too hard. He didn¡¯t look like he was doing any fuel-saving as well, so he would have to pit for fuel eventually.


    Nearing the end of the Mulsanne, I saw that LOWGEARGOD and FormulaJosh were fighting tooth and nail. FormulaJosh nudged LOWGEARGOD wide on the Mulsanne Corner, to which LOWGEARGOD responded with rubbing against FormulaJosh¡¯s Porsche going down the straight towards Indianapolis. LOWGEARGOD was a very emotional driver, but also a fast one as well. The top speed of his 787B could not be stopped. He eventually was able to pass FormulaJosh well before the upcoming turn. Michael was cheering them on to ¡®continue fighting¡¯ while Violet was wondering how ¡®the meanie¡¯ was so much faster than anyone else. If only she read my explanation above¡­


    <hr>


    Around ten minutes into the race, we were nearing the end of lap 3. LOWGEARGOD had gapped the rest of the field by 15 seconds. It was impressive the lap times he was putting down, but that would all go away when he would have to pit, which most likely would be at the end of this lap. I had no idea how much time he would lose in total, but he would drop many positions nonetheless.


    I was still in sixth, soon to be fifth again once our friend LOWGEARGOD pitted. Somehow we were all able to keep it clean and not punt anyone else off track. The race looked like a modern F1 race where ¡®DRS trains¡¯ formed. From second to seventh, we were all in a straight line, all committing to fuel-saving so we ended the race without stopping. We were acting out the world¡¯s fastest parade right now with no one able to break away from the pack, sans LOWGEARGOD, who was doing his alternative strategy.


    When I crossed the line to start lap 4, I noticed that the clouds were starting to get darker. That wasn¡¯t uncommon at all when racing at Le Mans¨Cit often rained in the real-life race, and it had rained in this race in prior editions. Usually, it was a sprinkle that led to ¡®variable conditions¡¯, which meant that the dry Medium tires that were on everyone¡¯s car would be as fast as if they had Intermediate rain tires on. Rain tires resembled the tires you used if you drove on the road. They weren¡¯t able to go as fast as racing tires, but they would provide you the necessary grip you needed to not go off the road if conditions were bad enough to warrant them. The flipside was that they were very easy to overheat if the road was drying up. In real life, that would cause the rubber to melt and ruin the tire. In game, it would eat up the life of the tire along with exponentially losing grip. Realistic enough. One could slow this process down by purposely driving in the wet, cooling the tires¨Cone of the many quirks of wet weather racing. Racing tires, or slick tires as many called them, had smooth tread and no grooves. Perfect for dry conditions, but once it got wet enough for them to hydroplane, it was pretty much game over if you got onto the wet stuff. The difficult part about all of this was that even if the Intermediate tires were faster, you would lose more time pitting for them at the end of lap 4 than just toughing it out on the slicks. With the 25 second time loss pitting, it would be nigh impossible to gain that time back in one lap. That is if the conditions even got bad enough to warrant the idea of pitting. A lot of times, the sky got darker even if there was no chance of rain showing on the weather radar¡­speaking of that, I haven¡¯t checked it this whole race¡­


    Flipping to the weather radar, I saw this:


    Recreation of the Weather Radar at the end of lap 3. Sorry for the crude drawing of the circuit.


    It seemed that it was already raining at the end of the Mulsanne Straight and in the straight going towards Indianapolis. Other than that, the entire track was covered in a light-blue color¨Cwhich meant that it was merely sprinkling, if that. Honestly, I couldn¡¯t tell that it was raining if it wasn¡¯t for the sky turning dark. At the rate it showed it was raining at the moment, it wouldn¡¯t be enough to justify going in for Intermediates, but I was more concerned about the rain that could come after it. As you can probably already tell, the darker blue, green, and other colors symbolized harder rain. With weather happening in this race at like 30x speed, an entire rain shower could happen in a lap¨Cif anything in the green touched the circuit, it could turn into a downpour. At that rate, it would be worth putting on Wet tires, which were more extreme than Intermediates. They were only used in real life when there was standing water on the road. We would have to wait and see which way the wind blew.


    <hr>


    Fast forward half a lap¨CI was starting to fight for my life to keep it on the track. The downpour that I feared would come in fact did. We were nearing the end of the Mulsanne Straight, and it was obvious that dry tires were losing their potency. In this situation, I would rather brake way earlier than needed rather than bin it in the gravel trap in the Mulsanne Corner, I began to touch the brakes all the way back at the Total board that was like 400 meters away from the turn. To put it in perspective, I would normally start braking 300 meters later, around where the kerb before the turn was. I lifted off and coasted until my normal braking point, where then I carefully feathered the brake pedal so as to not induce a slide. It was very easy to stomp the brakes and hydroplane off-track. If you¡¯ve ever driven while there was ice on the road¨Cit was kinda like that, except way faster.


    Two cars in front of me either broke too late, or applied too much braking power, and spun off into the gravel trap¨Cunlike in real life, they were able to get their cars out of there easily. They would have to deal with dirty tires and losing valuable time, but it was better than being beached and having to wait for marshalls to put them back on track. As for me? Turns out that I braked way too early¨CI could¡¯ve drove at least another 100 meters before braking. My cautious approach ended up benefiting me in the end however.


    Up to third, the name of the game for the next half-lap was to survive. It was raining hard enough that inters, if not full wet tires, were necessary. It was raining that bad. I was thankful for Violet being considerate enough to start singing the ¡®Rain Rain Go Away Song¡¯. It didn¡¯t change anything, but the thought was nice.


    Through Indianapolis, Arnage, and the Porsche Curves, which were especially difficult due to the rain accumulating, I and everyone who wanted to finish the race in one piece went through at a snail¡¯s pace.


    With the rain meter showing that it was beyond even Intermediates, we all dove into the pits to put on wets. Funnily enough, our friend LOWGEARGOD had gotten himself back up to fourth place. I would¡¯ve taken him for someone who would easily lose it by overdriving in these conditions. Sad to say that my expectations were wrong. He had to be between 10 to 15 seconds behind us by the time he got out of the pits¨Che somehow gained half of that back by the time we hit the pit lane.


    Forty seconds and a pit stop later, I was out with a new set of Wet tires. Everyone else that pitted also put on full Wets. Everybody except for you know who, who decided to stay out on his slicks. He had built up a 15-second advantage while we were pitting, but in these conditions, that advantage could disappear in a few seconds.


    Going through the Dunlop Chicane, a car in front went in too hot and spun out. Getting the car back going again would be a real challenge, since how easy it was to lose traction and spin out again when it was this wet. That left the top three of LOWGEARGOD, FormulaJosh, and I.


    As both of us went through the two Mulsanne Chicanes, we caught up with LOWGEARGOD. Seeing that he had to serve a 2-second penalty, he must have made a mess of one or multiple of the turns.


    We were only a second behind him by the time we hit the Mulsanne Kink (not shown in the track map above, but it¡¯s a slight right-wards bend towards the beginning of the third stretch of the Mulsanne Straight). Uncharacteristically, LOWGEARGOD took the Kink cautiously, which allowed us to roll right past him.


    Our 919 Hybrids had the advantage when it came to initial acceleration, but LOWGEARGOD had about 30 miles per hour on us once he hit top speed, which was very easy to do even during a downpour. This allowed him to catch back up with us. However, with our tire advantage was going second by second, and no amount of top end speed would save LOWGEARGOD from losing time to us. I was going to try to overtake FormulaJosh through the Mulsanne Corner¨CI was on the outside, which would give me a disadvantage if he was able to park it on the curve correctly. I would be able to take a wider line however and hopefully be able to have a better exit.


    As FormulaJosh and I started braking for the corner, seeing who would win the battle of wits¡­that is, until I heard a smash to the right of me that rivaled the Vine Boom.


    The next thing I know, I was sliding uncontrollably toward the barrier, hitting it and going around 50 miles per hour. I would¡¯ve hit the wall going at over 100 if it wasn¡¯t for the gravel trap. Thank goodness for modern safety measures¡­


    Reversing my car, I saw both FormulaJosh and LOWGEARGOD carry on ahead¨Cit seems that I was the one that carried the inertia and was the worst off of the bunch.


    Visual recreation of the last lap Mulsanne Corner incident. LOWGEARGOD (red dots) went off track (on purpose or not, I don¡¯t know), came back on, and speared into FormulaJosh (yellow dots). Since I (white dot) was in front of FormulaJosh at the time, the inertia from that collision caused him to slide into me, which in turn caused me to be the one that was punted off track. It appears that LOWGEARGOD was able to keep on going on the fact that he was riding the side of FormulaJosh, so as to not lose control of the vehicle. A smarter driver would¡¯ve recognized that a win was improvable at this junction, and given up first place until the next overtaking opportunity, but LOWGEARGOD wasn¡¯t about to give up that easily. Special thanks to ¡®Le-Mans-Guide</a>¡¯ for providing an aerial shot that was easy to trace over.


    <hr>


    With my chance of winning effectively over, I coasted on to the finish line. Normally, I would¡¯ve rage-quitted right then and there, but that was a no-go during a sponsorship stream. Honestly, I was so into the race at the time that I forgot that this was supposed to show off the Franatrec wheel setup. I didn¡¯t know what position I finished in. I didn¡¯t care¨Cseeing cars pass by me was infuriating, knowing that I had a decent shot of winning. Michael and Violet were again beside themselves at what happened. While I already had a good idea of what happened, they were stunned. It was even a bigger shunt than the one at the Nordschleife, and a crash with more implications than the one on Special Stage Route X. I admit that my wrists were a little bit sore after that hit, but that¡¯s more from me instinctively trying to keep it going right sharply when it was being pushed towards the other way.


    A driver named ¡®PillBoy99¡¯ won the race, which meant that FormulaJosh and LOWGEARGOD got into further incidents before the end of the race.


    [FormulaJosh: @francisf I¡¯m sorry.]


    [FormulaJosh: @LOWGEARGOD fck you]


    [LOWGEARGOD: @FormulaJosh GET THAT ASS PUNTED]


    This often happened in online races. Two drivers get sick of each other and decide to turn the race into a shoving match. I don¡¯t know what FormulaJosh did to LOWGEARGOD to warrant that mega punt, but needless to say FormulaJosh probably got his payback, and then some. I didn¡¯t know exactly¨CI would have to save the replay and watch it after.


    <hr>


    Save the replay and watch it is what I did¨Cthe stream should end on a light note, so I decided to replay the last lap to show what happened. LOWGEARGOD didn¡¯t even attempt to slow down, which only made my shunt even worse¨Cfollowing that was non-stop bumping and rubbing from both FormulaJosh and LOWGEARGOD. Even with the tire advantage, it was hard for FormulaJosh to get ahead of LOWGEARGOD because he had it setup where he would immediately respawn on track if he touched a wall. Their shenanigans prompted laughs from both Michael and Violet. ¡°What the heck? What is this? Racing? Or bumper cars?¡± Violet said. ¡°This is more like ping pong¡­¡± Michael retorted, unknowingly referencing the famous Vettel radio message. While I was angry at the moment it happened, I admit that it was quite humorous to see two drivers give up all reason and try to wreck each other. This wasn¡¯t my account, so I didn¡¯t care that much if I lost DR or SR.


    Shortly after that, I exited out of the game and shut the PlayStation off. There was plenty more that I could¡¯ve done. I could¡¯ve driven around the Super Formula car that I had been given by the game. It was the closest thing I had to driving an F1 car ingame¨Cand to be honest, it seemed like the Super Formula car had more downforce. In game at least. There was also the possibility of switching sides and driving the 787B, but I didn¡¯t think it was worth it. The time loss pitting and all. Above all, there seemed to be an unwritten time limit on these sponsorship streams. We had been going for over two hours now¨Cit wasn¡¯t like Michael was physically trying to get me to stop, but he was saying things like ¡°Well, that¡¯s certainly not the way we wanted to end the stream!¡± after I crossed the finish line for the last time. ¡°Yeah, maybe next time!¡± Violet at least was cheering me on, which I appreciated. She was implying that time was up as well. I got the message.


    <hr>


    I¡¯m guessing the stream was an overall success, since I didn¡¯t hear about management bitching to Michael. After all of that, I still had no idea why Franatrec would want to do a sponsorship stream with a VTuber¨CI mean, he didn¡¯t even set up a pedal camera or one for the wheel. Thinking back, wouldn¡¯t it make more sense to have that set up? Oh well, it¡¯s too late to ponder that now.


    Violet also shot me a message saying [¡°good job on the stream! wish u wouldve won!!¡±]...what a nice lady. A shame that my gifted subscription to her had expired. I shot her back with a simple [¡°Thanks!¡±].


    As for the sim racing setup¡­it¡¯s complicated.


    Michael did give it to me¨Cfor that one night. More on that later. I was excited about it until I had the sudden realization that I wouldn¡¯t have enough room for it. Having my PS4 set up along with my computer, it was useful when I wanted to console game but not leave my computer. But at the same time, I didn¡¯t have the room to have a permanent setup, which is what I would want. Having to put on and take off a racing wheel each time I wanted to drive was too much trouble for me to do. I could always move my PS4 to my bedroom, which is absolutely massive, but that would mean that I would have to walk ten steps back and forth from my computer to my PS4. What is this, 2009? I¡¯m being hyperbolic, but I liked the convenience. The second option was to get a PS5¨Cthat was more realistic, and something I was considering more now. It was all for naught though¡­


    <hr>


    The next day¨Cit was noon. I was sitting down at my desk and stewing. I had work in an hour and I was mentally prepping myself for it. It would be like any other day. Thinking about it now, I worked for two-hundred dollars an hour yesterday. More than ten times I would be working for today. I did say that I would never be a VTuber due to how high maintenance it is, along with not gelling with the whole ¡®idol¡¯ lifestyle, but at that pay rate, I would change my mind at the first opportunty. The reality of the matter is that I¡¯m not entertaining enough organically to attract that type of crowd. It takes a certain moxie to be a VTuber. Something that I couldn¡¯t quite grasp. I¡¯m sure if I asked Michael and the others, they would say I would make a good one, but they¡¯re just being nice. If it did happen, all of my popularity would be solely due to being acquaintances with them. I wouldn¡¯t be successful. Also, I¡¯m way too political.


    *KNOCK* *KNOCK*


    I was surprised¨CI knew who it was, but he¡¯d never done this before. Usually he messaged me if he wanted to talk.


    ¡°It¡¯s unlocked.¡± I wasn¡¯t going to get up¨Cwhatever he was going to say had to be important if he was coming face to face.


    ¡°Hey¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°About that racing wheel¡­¡± Michael was looking down, as if he was a bit ashamed of what he was about to say.


    ¡°What about it?¡±


    ¡°I uhh¡­I need to send it back.¡± I¡¯ve never seen him say something with less confidence. Even when the chip was attacking him he was confidently in pain. I could see why, because this was preposterous.


    ¡°...What?¡± I didn¡¯t know what to think. What do you mean send it back? As I said, preposterous.


    ¡°Yeah¡­my mane-san said that corporate wants it sent to them.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡±


    I was speechless. Why would corporate want a racing wheel? Did they want to return it? Did they breach some agreement? Did Franatrec finally realize a VTuber is the last person they would want to promote their physical product? Whatever it was, all it did was make me shake my head.


    ¡°It¡¯s in the bedroom.¡± It wasn¡¯t like I had a use for it at the moment. ¡°Do you still have the box for it?¡±


    ¡°I tore up the box that it came in¡­¡±


    ¡°Well yeah. I know that. I¡¯m talking about the other box.¡± No shit. I was the one that got the fucking thing in the door.


    ¡°Man, you don¡¯t need to be such a smartass¡­no, I tore up that one as well.¡±


    I started chuckling, ¡°We have nothing to send it back in,¡± I admit, I was being a huge asshole right now, but this was a ridiculous situation. Could they have told Michael earlier? This was pissing me off so bad that all I could do is laugh. ¡°Tell corporate to send someone over so I can shove it up their ass.¡±


    ¡°Calm down man.¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± I was still shaking my head. ¡°Look, it wasn¡¯t going to work for my PlayStation 4 anyway. Just take it.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°Is it going to make a difference if I change my mind?¡± What was the point of asking that now?


    ¡°...I guess not.¡±


    ¡°There you have it.¡± I threw up my hand in frustration while maintaining a sarcastic grin. Why even ask me that? He must have realized how stupid that question was since he didn¡¯t tell me to tone it down again and instead walked past me and into my room.


    Michael came back with the wheel in one hand and the pedals in another.


    ¡°Are they at least going to pay for shipping?¡± I had to make sure they were at least doing that.


    ¡°Ehhh¡­I don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t ask mane-san.¡±


    ¡°Well, you better ask.¡± If they wanted their shit back, they better at least pay for the shipping.


    ¡°Alright, alright, I will¡­¡± I knew I was annoying him with my insistence, but this was just negligence on their part. Is AnyClover run by morons? Well, that¡¯s a very broad generalization on my part, but this also was part of a worrying trend. They weren¡¯t my employer, so ultimately I didn¡¯t have to worry about their incompetence. Thank god.


    <hr>


    It was evening¨CI was busy slaving away at work. After the whole wheel situation earlier I was on edge. I hated feeling like this because I knew that it was a situation that I had no control over. I could¡¯ve tried to press Michael more for his manager¡¯s socials, but I don¡¯t think that would¡¯ve led to anything productive. Don¡¯t need Michael to tell me to not suicide-bait his manager over shipping arrangements.


    Taking my mind off it was difficult¡ªthe store was busier in the day, but now had slowed down to a lull. The pick-up orders had ceased, and I was taking my time wrapping and boxing items that were to ship out tomorrow. Right now, I was wrapping a ceramic bowl up in bubble wrap so it wouldn¡¯t shatter while in transit.


    *BUZZ*


    My phone was vibrating¡ªI had been not looking at my phone for most of the work day since every time I did it reminded me of earlier. I was dreading any attempt to reconcile on Michael¡¯s part. Firstly because I didn¡¯t want to hear it, and secondly because he wasn¡¯t the one at fault. If anything, AnyClover should be invoicing me for making the stream possible. Damn, I hate not being in control.


    My impulse control finally ran out and I looked at my phone.


    [¡°hey ! are you going to play the sf6 beta??¡±]


    It was Violet. A nice change of pace.


    [¡°Probably not¡±] I¡¯m not that much into fighting games.


    [¡°its free¡­¡±]


    [¡°Yeah, but I don¡¯t play fighting games. I don¡¯t even have an arcade stick.¡±]


    [¡°that doesn¡¯t matter!! u should at least give it a try!¡±] She was being pushy¡­


    [¡°ill think about it¡±]


    [¡°yay! more people to beat!¡±] I see where she was going with this, [¡°Ill teach u! fighting games aren¡¯t hard¡±]


    Well, if she¡¯s willing to go that far, then it couldn¡¯t hurt to try it out. It is free.


    [¡°You got me. I¡¯ll see if Michael has a stick I can use. I¡¯ll be downloading it asap.¡±]


    [¡±oke !¡±] [¡°wait..whos michael?¡±]


    My phone was already back in my pocket. She¡¯ll find out eventually.

 Mowing the Lawn

    It had been three days since the sponsorship stream. My anger at Michael¡¯s employers had subsided somewhat. I had not been reimbursed by either AnyClover or Michael for the fuck up. To be honest, I hadn¡¯t really been bugging anyone about it. I was more pissed off at the incompetence than the fact that I had a racing wheel taken from me. Hell, it wasn¡¯t like I had a use for it at the moment, which was why I didn¡¯t really fight it being sent back. Part of me still wanted to get into contact with his management, but knowing how they operate, they would rather make Michael go on hiatus and go through the trouble of moving out instead of mailing me a five-hundred-dollar check or giving me the wheel. I still don¡¯t know why they would want it back.


    Instead of badgering and threatening, I had become way more willing to take Michael¡¯s stuff from his electronics closet in the spare bedroom and not give it back. I was going to do it until I either had five hundred dollars worth of his electronics or until he caught on. Considering the whole goddamn closet was filled to the brim with random shit, the only way he would notice was if I had taken something he was looking for. It wasn¡¯t stealing because I would give it back if he asked. Or maybe not¡­


    To be quite honest, I have been thinking more about Street Fighter 6 for the last few days. I had been playing the beta for the last day¨CI barely knew what I was doing, but I can¡¯t lie¨Cit was fun. Violet had got me to play a few games two days before. She assured me I could play on controller, but I got a stick from Michael¡¯s closet. It was the first thing I took. The stick had a hundred-dollar value¨Conly four hundred more dollars more before I was whole. While a Franatrec sim racing setup wouldn¡¯t fit on my desk, an arcade stick would. The only fighting game I¡¯ve seen him playing was Smash, which didn¡¯t utilize a stick.


    While Violet was the one who got me to download the beta, we¡¯ve only played a total of like five matches together. Not that I mind, since I got beat pretty handily each time. She was a lot more competent when it came to fighting games than FPSes. I had a lot of practice to do if I wanted to beat her.


    I had spent 90% of the time in the Battle Hubs, challenging random people. I tried out about six of the fighters available and had stuck with Manon for now. I originally had ¡®Modern¡¯ controls on, but switched to ¡®Classic¡¯ after Violet scolded me about it. Apparently, Classic controls are a lot better to use than Modern¡­it sucks though because Modern is a lot easier to do. By the time I learn how to play Classic, the beta will end! Which is tonight!


    Taking advantage of my day off, I was spending the Sunday cutting grass. I was planning to do it around once a month¨CI know that The Landlord said that she ¡®recommended¡¯ that it be cut twice a month, but personally, I didn¡¯t see the trouble in cutting it less frequently. It wasn¡¯t like anyone was ever on it. If The Landlord was coming around then it would be a different story, but she wasn¡¯t. By the way, the dirt patch where I burned those limbs was clearing up at a rate faster than anticipated. It had some grass already growing in the middle of it!


    Oh, and if you¡¯re wondering¨CI¡¯m cutting around Michael¡¯s schedule. With no immediate pressure to cut the grass, I can cut it whenever I want. I¡¯d rather cut the grass in the late afternoon instead of the early morning. I¡¯m not a morning person and he doesn¡¯t have anything scheduled for now. It was on him if I interfered with his stream again.


    It made me think¨CI¡¯ve been a part of Michael¡¯s general hi-jinks for about three months now. I¡¯ve become a semi-regular character on his stream, and even made a cameo on another VTuber¡¯s stream. That being said, it wasn¡¯t that wild. Other than smashing my pinkie toe¨CI took a month to recover from that. To say that these last three months were eventful would be a lie. I still work the same dead-end job and live the same boring lifestyle. I haven¡¯t done anything more exciting than go out to a bar by myself and watch sports this year. That was in January. It was now in the middle of May. It wasn¡¯t like I was living a glamorous lifestyle¡­I couldn¡¯t say that it wasn¡¯t any less exciting than before I moved in though.


    Between the lighting fast internet, cheap rent, and a constant conveyer belt of DoorDash that I didn¡¯t pay for, I wasn¡¯t planning on leaving this place anytime soon. By the looks of it, Michael didn¡¯t look like he wanted to leave either. We were going to be stuck with each other for at least a little while longer. At least half a year according to my lease. We still have a whole summer to potentially do some more exciting things! While I was still sore about the racing wheel, that wasn¡¯t going to matter any when it came time to renew. I have to keep in mind that I was only able to use a racing wheel because of Michael. Don¡¯t bite the hand that feeds.


    Had I gained a deeper understanding of VTubers and the VTuber community? Well, somewhat. The concept still remained a little foreign to me, since I¡¯ve never been interested in streamers in the first place. It was a little bit different if it was a friend doing it, but I almost never watched them before. I¡¯ve never watched anything on Twitch unless it was a professional video game tournament. E3 too now that I think about it. But that was different than watching a streamer. With VTubers, I learned that their model is an intermediary from the streamer to their audience. A VTuber¡¯s model gives them the ability to either act more like ¡®their character¡¯, or more like themselves. With the extra layer of protection that the model provides, the potential embarrassment one might get from streaming with their regular face is diminished. I mean, it¡¯s technically not you per se. Another thing I learned is that a lot of VTubers were not exactly the healthiest people around. Michael was healthy in the sense that he didn¡¯t have to constantly go to the hospital, but apparently there were some in AnyClover EN that had issues such as autoimmune disease and chronic fatigue, among other things. In those cases, being a streamer was one of the only things you could do constantly. Of course, just being a streamer doesn¡¯t guarantee that you¡¯ll be successful. And VTuber models like the one Michael and Violet have aren¡¯t cheap to acquire. There¡¯s a whole world of ¡®2D Tubers¡¯ and VTubers with less intricate 3D models. Just because their model is less impressive or because they aren¡¯t signed with an agency doesn¡¯t mean they are ¡®worse¡¯¨Cat least if you go by the viewer numbers. The point with VTubing is that with the absence of anything ¡®real¡¯, you get back in spades with authenticity, which allows the streamer to be more entertaining without actually showing your face or even being ¡®you¡¯. At least that was my interpretation. Still not my cup of tea, but I understood it way more now.


    <hr>


    The mower had run out of gas in the middle of cutting the lawn. I was only lucky that it had stopped in the shade¨Cthe last thing I needed was a scalding hot seat to turn my ass into a baboons.


    I walked over to the gas canister in the shed. I picked it up and shook it around¨Cthere was no gas in there at all. I¡¯m surprised that Jean didn¡¯t refill it. Well, it¡¯s not like she can do everything for us.


    Forced with no other choice, I walked inside the house and grabbed my keys. I was going to drive to the gas station down the road and fill the canister up. While I was in here, I also decided to fill my water bottle up. I hadn¡¯t finished all of it, but it had gotten warm in the 45 minutes it had been out. It was a small, 16-ounce plastic jug with no insulation, meaning it would bleed out the ice as soon as warmth touched it.


    After washing my hands, I opened the freezer part of the fridge, picked apart ice, and threw it in my bottle. The ice was way too noisy if you got it the ¡®normal¡¯ way, which made picking it by yourself the easiest option.


    As soon as I closed the freezer, I heard him walking up.


    ¡°That was quick.¡± He was under the impression that I was finished.


    ¡°Ah, I¡¯m not finished. Just ran out of gas,¡± I was shaking my bottle so my water got colder faster, ¡°there¡¯s no gas left in the canister outside, so I have to go by the gas station down the road.¡±


    ¡°Hm, I see¡­¡± He didn¡¯t look interested at all, but he was at least keeping up the kayfabe for now. ¡°Well, I hope you¡¯re done cutting the grass by 7, since that¡¯s the time my stream is starting.¡±


    Looking at my watch, it was only 5¨Ca whole two hours before he had to start. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be done way before then.¡±


    All he replied with was ¡°Alright¡­¡± while getting ready to steep himself another cup of tea.


    ¡°Is there anything I need to get for you while I¡¯m down there?¡± I was asking out of courtesy.


    ¡°Not really.¡± He was more focused on his tea than anything else¨CI doubt he even heard me.


    Scooting past him, I said, ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be back soon.¡± The air wasn¡¯t heavy at all, which is what I wanted. I didn¡¯t want him to think I was mad at him, because I wasn¡¯t. The sooner he let this blow by, the sooner he wouldn¡¯t have to pretend to feel sorry.


    <hr>


    The drive to the gas station and back took only around ten minutes. The hardest part was making sure the gas canister didn¡¯t flip over in the trunk. Honestly, all things considered, it was probably easier to have it in the back seat instead¨Cthe only problem was that it was considered ¡®unsafe¡¯ to do that. That was what my parents told me. I made sure to take wide turns and not drive like ¡®a bat outta hell¡¯, something I¡¯ve been accused of in the past. Thankfully, the canister didn¡¯t flip over.


    I was filling up the lawn mower now. Filling up the mower wasn¡¯t hard at all¨Call you had to do was flip over the seat and untwist the cap below. The hard part was knowing when the tank was full or not. The fuel tank gauge was on the other side, only viewable if you stopped filling up the tank. When I say ¡®hard¡¯, I don¡¯t actually mean hard¨CI mean annoying.


    After fueling up the tank to just over three-fourths full, I stopped and put the cap back on the canister. There wasn¡¯t any point in trying to get the tank perfectly full. Too much work going back and forth two feet.


    Putting the canister back in the shed, I heard a buzz from my phone. I got my phone out of my pocket and saw that Michael had messaged me¡­what did he want?


    Opening Discord, I saw the message:


    [¡°do u want to go on vacation with me this summer¡±]


    What a peculiar question to ask¡­I mean, there¡¯s no reason for me to say no, but at the same time, I know nothing about whatever ¡®vacation¡¯ he has in store.


    [¡°Well¡­maybe? Let me think about it.¡±] If he¡¯s asking, then there¡¯s a great possibility that he¡¯s fronting for at least most, if not all, of the traveling expenses. Could this be his way of apologizing? I had no idea what the numerical value of ¡®a vacation¡¯ was, but I knew it averaged more than five hundred dollars. The only questions left were when and where? Maybe who as well, since there¡¯s a good possibility that he goes with one or several of his coworkers. Hey, maybe there¡¯s a chance that I¡¯ll finally get to go to Japan! I¡¯ve always wanted to go, but the price of plane tickets to and back always has put me off. I also didn¡¯t have anyone to go with, or even any set plan for what to do when I go there.


    Before I could get too excited, I remembered that I had a job at hand. The sweat that was beading up on my forehead was a constant reminder. I restarted the lawn mower and got back to work. I needed to finish so I could play some more Street Fighter 6 before the beta closed.


    <hr>


    I had just gotten out of the shower¨CI was done cutting the grass. The landlord would¡¯ve ¡®preferred¡¯ if I went over the lawn twice to ¡®bust up the clumps¡¯, but I saw no need in that. They weren¡¯t big enough to cause the grass below to be denied its vital nutrients¡­at least I hoped so. The wind would take care of them either way.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    After drying off, I put on some clothes and went into the kitchen to grab a beer. Another PBR it is. It was the only beer in the fridge, so it wasn¡¯t like I had a choice.


    Cracking it open, I heard Michael walking to the kitchen.


    ¡°Did you get my Discord message?¡±


    I took a long sip, replying with a singular ¡°Nope¡±. When I got off my mower, I didn¡¯t see any new messages from him. I was sweating too much to care, plus my podcast was still going. I didn¡¯t have my phone on me at the moment so I couldn¡¯t check to see what it was. ¡°What was it about?¡±


    ¡°It was about the vacation that I invited you on.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah¡­you¡¯re gonna have to tell me more about this.¡± I couldn¡¯t go off and ditch work if the ¡®vacation¡¯ was, say, next week. For normal people like me, I had to ask for time off about a month ahead so I wouldn¡¯t have to work during that time. I didn¡¯t have the pleasure of being able to go on break as frequently as Michael. I also didn¡¯t know where it was going to be, or with who.


    ¡°Well¡­we still don¡¯t have any idea where our vacation should be, but it would be with me, Dusty, and Yuji. And you of course.¡± Dusty and Yuji were two of his male coworkers¨Cthe only male coworkers he had in the AnyClover EN branch if I was correct.


    ¡°Ahh, so it would be a ¡®Boy¡¯s Retreat¡¯?¡± I was starting to see why Michael thought about inviting me. Other than the obvious reason.


    ¡°Something like that.¡± Exactly like that.


    ¡°Do you know when it would be?¡± The main issue with me was still when it was going to be. I didn¡¯t have the mental fortitude to no-call, no-show for a whole week. I wouldn¡¯t have a job when I came back!


    ¡°We¡¯re aiming for about two months in advance. I¡¯ll message you the dates once we decide for good.¡± Since they make their own schedule, I didn¡¯t see them having any difficulty in planning dates to be free. Not unless they had some company-wide event planned. The bigger issue was where they were going to reside.


    ¡°Do you know where it¡¯s gonna be?¡±


    ¡°We want to keep it within North America¡­¡± Damnit, so this won¡¯t be my dream otaku vacation to glorious Nihon. Oh well. Fukou da. Maybe next time. ¡°The only problem is that there¡¯s so many places to go to that we¡¯re getting bogged down by the options.¡±


    ¡°So¡­neither Dusty or Yuji have any idea of where to go?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± stopped for a moment, seemingly trying to find the right words to say, ¡°...ehh, it¡¯s more like¡­uhh, they want me to choose?¡± He started scratching the back of his head, laughing at his group¡¯s apparent lack of decision-making skills.


    ¡°Why?¡± Honestly, why?


    ¡°Because they¡¯ve never been to the southeast and want me to choose somewhere in this region¡­well, that¡¯s what Dusty said.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re being asked to pick a vacation spot in a region where you¡¯ve never been on vacation before?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Even if he had no idea where to suggest, he didn¡¯t see how absurd the proposition was.


    ¡°Wow, what is it with you VTubers and never being able to plan shit correctly?¡±


    ¡°Hey man, we just started this a few days ago.¡± Well, that was a good point.


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re trying to get my opinion¨Cyou¡¯re shit outta luck¡­I¡¯ve only been to Myrtle Beach and Disney World.¡± As a child, my family took a near-yearly trip to Myrtle Beach, which was a popular vacation spot that was on the other side of the state. While it did have many great attractions like mini golf courses, actual golf courses, and¡­the beach itself? Okay, I¡¯ll be upfront¨CMyrtle Beach is kinda shitty. In my opinion. Maybe it¡¯s because I¡¯ve been there on vacation about fifteen times, but I did not like the idea of being there, nevertheless vacationing there. I don¡¯t know if it had to do more with the place itself, or the fact that I was with family 99% of the time I was there. Perhaps I would¡¯ve had a better time if I wasn¡¯t under the all-seeing eye of my family. Either way, I wasn¡¯t a golfer or a redneck, so I had no desire to ever go there again. Disney World sounded fun, but it probably wasn¡¯t what they had in mind. That was more of a ¡®Girl¡¯s Trip!¡¯ destination anyway.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with Myrtle Beach?¡± Unlike me, Michael had no clue about the place.


    I had to make up a lie ¡°There¡¯s nothing to do there. Not unless if you want to play golf every day.¡± Well, that technically wasn¡¯t a lie. Anything you could do there you could do at another beach. The main thing that tourists love to do there is get drunk on the shore and work on their ripe sunburn. It¡¯s Redneck Mecca. Perhaps I was being too hard on it, but even then I still had no desire to go there. There were way better places to visit. Also, it would be an absolute shambles if Michael and company were caught going to Dirty Myrtle and getting into trouble! Debauchery comes in spades in that shithole.


    ¡°Uh huh¡­and Dusty was wanting to say by the beach, so Disney World isn¡¯t really a choice.¡± I had assumed that Michael had went to Disneyland as a child, so he wasn¡¯t really that interested in visiting Disney World, even if it had way more to offer.


    ¡°Hmm¡­why don¡¯t you ask The Landlord? She ought to know some other places.¡± I sure hoped she did. Otherwise, I¡¯d have to trust Michael¡¯s instinct.


    ¡°I have a better idea,¡± he leaned in a bit, ¡°why don¡¯t you ask the landlord?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because you talk to her way more than me.¡± I mean, he was technically correct, but it wasn¡¯t like I talked to our landlord every day. We weren¡¯t friends. It seemed that we were on better terms than Michael and her were though. When she visited, she didn¡¯t seem too down on Michael, other than saying that he ¡®never goes outside¡¯, and the fact that he almost blew up her lawn mower when she made him cut grass that one time. He seemed more afraid of her than anything. Either way, it didn¡¯t really matter who asked.


    ¡°Uh huh, alright.¡± Shaking my can, it was already empty. Damn, that was fast. Throwing it away, one thing popped into my mind, ¡°How would I tell your coworkers about ¡®our¡¯ choice.¡±


    ¡°Well of course you¡¯d tell me, silly.¡± He was at the fridge now, reaching in for a beer of his own. Hey, your stream starts soon! No drinking while living!


    ¡°Yeah, but doesn¡¯t it seem weird for me to be a degree of separation from Dusty and Yuji?¡± I mean, it was. It would be weird if the first time we talked properly was when vacation started.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get us a group chat up in Discord soon¨Cdon¡¯t worry about that.¡±


    ¡°Okay, good.¡± I moved by him to get another beer out of the fridge, ¡°I¡¯ll ask The Landlord for her opinion soon.¡±


    <hr>


    Taking a large gulp out of my second beer, I sent The Landlord a message.


    [¡°Hey, it¡¯s John. This might be a weird question, but do you know of any good vacation spots? Preferably somewhere that isn¡¯t Myrtle Beach. Or Disney World.¡±]


    Sending her that, I thought that I should also send her something that¡¯ll get her attention:


    [¡°Oh, and also I cut the grass today.¡±]


    Within a minute, I got a response:


    [¡°nice! so glad that finally someone will cut the grass. michael wasted so much money hiring other people to cut it last year. did you know that he got charged $100 per time they cut the lawn? They didnt even cut all the way as well.¡±]


    I knew this, as she had told me as I was touring the house the first time, but I pretended that it I had just found it out to amuse her, [¡°Oh wow! That¡¯s a lot of money¡­¡±]


    [¡°crazy! I dont even know what he does for a living, but he can¡¯t be throwing money away like that!¡±] You know, for someone that never had to worry about finances again, she was a real stickler for frugality. Old habits die hard I guess.


    She began typing more:


    [¡°oh! Vacation spots! I almost forgot! I agree with you about myrtle beach as well! such a trashy plase.¡±] Correct. [¡°Florida is a great place to go on vacation, i love pcb the most, but I could stay on any beach there and be happy.¡±] YOU could, you know.


    [¡°PCB?¡±] I Googled it only to find stuff about circuit boards¡­in hindsight, I should¡¯ve put ¡°vacation¡± at the end, but I already asked the question¨CI might as well let her get a chance to answer.


    [¡°panama city beach. it¡¯s in florida, but isn¡¯t too far away from where you are. I was able to drive down there in 7 hours. I like it because the ocean water is so clear.¡±] Well¡­in even further hindsight, I should¡¯ve known that ¡®PCB¡¯ meant ¡®Panama City Beach¡¯. When we were doing chores that one day, she was wearing a shirt that had ¡®PANAMA CITY BEACH¡¯ on it¡­damnit, I¡¯m normally very good with acronyms.


    You probably already know I wasn¡¯t the type to go all out during Spring Break while at University. I was more of a ¡®go back home and game¡¯ type of student. This was the first time I heard Panama City Beach referred to as a family-friendly place rather than a place to get blitzed and pick up a sorority girl or three. One could say that Myrtle Beach was the same, but I was always with family there, negating that. To be fair to Dirty Myrtle, it also had enough attractions to keep kids excited for a week. Once you ¡®grow up¡¯ enough to want to do something different, the options change from that to ¡®going on the beach, getting sunburned, and drinking 13 lukewarm domestic light beers¡¯. Some people liked doing that for a week straight. I didn¡¯t. A light sunburn was okay, but the sunburns the beach doled out were nasty and harmful.


    [¡°Thanks!¡±]


    [¡°your welcome!¡±]


    With that in mind, I went ahead and messaged Michael about the possibility of our vacation being in Panama City Beach.


    <hr>


    A few days later, I got a message from Violet:


    [¡°i heard that u and francis and the boys are going on vacation! how fun is that!¡±]


    Guess that word had gotten to Violet that we were going on a ¡®Boy¡¯s Trip¡¯ to Florida. Not surprised that word travels around fast within the AnyClover EN circle, considering that there was only ten of them¡­to be fair, I probably only have around nine people I talk to as well outside work, two of them being Michael and Violet. If it wasn¡¯t for my job, then I would probably be struggling to not forget how to speak.


    [¡°yeah, we¡¯re going to the beach soon. Not too much planned other than where.¡±] As far as I know, Michael and friends still didn¡¯t have any exact dates yet on when they were planning to have the vacation. All I was told was ¡°a few months from now¡±. I sure hope they decide sooner rather than later because I¡¯d rather request to get my dates off before it¡¯s too late.


    [¡°u don¡¯t seem to excited about it¡±]


    Man, this is why I hate talking about vacations¡­ [¡°oh don¡¯t worry, i¡¯m excited. Its just that I¡¯ve never been to this place so i dont know what to expect.¡¯]


    [¡°i hope u and everyone else have a good time! please take a pic of the beach for me!! and if u see and pretty girls down there give them my discord!!!¡±]


    [¡°lol. Will do.¡±] I knew that she was joking, but I did wonder about what would happen if there was a situation where Michael or the two others were approached by a woman, or a group of them. I highly doubted any groupies would show up, since how the hell would they know where all of them were? But it wasn¡¯t out of the question for random women that didn¡¯t know anything about them to approach them. Hell, for all I know Michael could be considered conventionally attractive. As for Dusty and Yuji, I had no idea what they looked like in real life. I would have to wait to find out what they looked like when we got there¡­it would be sad if I was the worst looking man in the group. Not that it matters because there¡¯s a zero percent chance we¡¯re ever going to be in that situation in the first place.


    This would be around the point where I would interject and tell a little about Dusty and Yuji, but to be quite honest, I knew nothing about them. They were male VTubers, which gave me no desire to ever watch. It¡¯s not like I particularly wanted to watch female VTubers as well, but at least I could understand it. I couldn¡¯t properly explain it, but there was an inner psychosexual pull that would allow me to enjoy a female VTuber, but not a male one. It all came back to the fact that I would rather listen to a woman¡¯s voice instead of a man¡¯s. I listened to men¡¯s voices enough on my podcasts. It also had to do with the way they¡¯re presented¨Cthe male VTubers were all designed to appeal to ¡®the female gaze¡¯. Well, most of them. I know gay and bisexual people exist, but I hope you get what I mean. The point was that I wasn¡¯t the target audience for them. I still haven¡¯t found a female VTuber that I like to that point, but I know there¡¯s bound to be some out there. I¡¯m not searching around.


    What little I know I¡¯ll tell you. Dusty¡¯s full name was ¡®Dusty Wallace¡¯. As the name implied, his model resembled a cracker. A rather dapper slick black-haired cracker. Who knows, he could be Asian, but I¡¯ve never met an Asian man named Dusty. His model was what you expected. An ikemen. Instead of a suit, Dusty had on an overcoat, a turtleneck, and slacks, all black. It was the theme. Not much other to say other than that he was the most popular member within the AnyClover EN branch. That is if you go by subscriber count on YouTube. I¡¯ve never watched any of his streams so I don¡¯t know how entertaining he is. As for Yuji, he was somewhat different.


    Yuji Tsunoda, unlike Dusty and Michael (Francis), was short. Not much of a bishie boy to be quite honest. His model was, other than being short, resembling something of a mischievous troublemaker. His model had on a T-shirt and a fishing vest over it with cargo shorts. He was also holding a stick for some reason. I had to guess this had to do with ¡®his nature¡¯. I didn¡¯t really get what ¡®his nature¡¯ was, but it made many people laugh often. Something about being a ¡®gremlin¡¯. We¡¯ll see how much that translates to real life.


    I would get to learn much about them in due time, so I wasn¡¯t worried about it. For now, I was going to focus on Street Fighter.

 Meet Me in the Streets

    It was the first fighting game I¡¯ve ever bought, and it was for full price! Full price! I paid sixty dollars for this! Sixty American dollars! Have I gone nuts?


    Okay¡­maybe sixty dollars wasn¡¯t that much, all things considered. Only last year, I had spent seventy dollars on Gran Turismo 7, and that was for a game that I didn¡¯t play beforehand! I got on the Street Fighter 6 beta on a whim¨CMichael¡¯s friend¡­and mine at this point, Violet, told me to try it out.


    During the beta, I tried out probably half the roster¨CChun Li, Ryu, the guy on the icon for the game, etc.¨CI wouldn¡¯t say I ¡®settled¡¯ on Manon, but I was winning a lot of my games I was playing with her. I was winning some with Chun Li as well, but I was having the most luck with Manon. With that being said, I still knew next to nothing about the mechanics of fighting games. I learned a sliver of information during that beta weekend, but I would need to learn a lot more if I was going to be actually competitive at this game.


    Spending sixty dollars on this game, you sure as hell knew that I was at least going to get my money¡¯s worth out of this. Thankfully I was able to take an arcade stick out of Michael¡¯s unused electronics closet and use it for myself. It was mine until he asked for it back. I had a feeling that playing it on a controller would be a bit binding. That sounds very stupid coming from the guy who still plays racing games with one, but the mechanics of both were different. When racing, you didn¡¯t press a lot of buttons, and never pressed any at the same time. The only ones I used were X to shift up, square to shift down, R2 for gas, L2 for brakes, and L3 to steer. In fighting games, about every button could be used for an attack or for parrying. I¡¯m sure I could get used to it if given enough time, but I found that not having all of my attack buttons in one specific area to be troublesome. Given that I¡¯m a total beginner to these types of games, it would take me forever to get used to it.


    All I had to do now was to wait a few minutes until the game was installed. Then the fun could begin¡­


    <hr>


    It was next Monday, the 5th. It had been three days since Street Fighter 6 was released. I didn¡¯t get a chance to play it for an extended period of time on Friday since I had work the next day, but on Saturday night, I spent around four hours playing. On Sunday, I played for about six hours. I would¡¯ve played more, but I had to shower due to how sweaty I was getting.


    While I was mainly playing Manon, I had been also playing Chun Li sometimes during my playtime over the weekend just to change it up some. I liked Chun Li, but it felt more natural to play Manon. Well, I say that, but really, it was easier to play her. Easier to win, even if I still didn¡¯t really know what I was doing. One thing I learned quickly was that people hate grapplers. Playing Manon, and playing against her, I quickly learned why. Zangief was even more annoying in my opinion, but I wasn¡¯t drawn to play him. Zangief lacked the appeal Manon had to me. It felt more fun to play as her. She was hot as well¨CI¡¯m not into big hairy men¡­or into men in general. Same reason why I play Chun Li. I need to learn to play Cammy as well¡­


    Since I was still learning the game, I didn¡¯t even bother with Ranked mode. I knew it would be a total nightmare if I dared enter¡­well, it depends on how they rank players. There would be a chance that I get a few softballs at first, then get put against players out of my league. The point is that I was more concerned about practicing than playing. I¡¯d rather say in casual mode for now. I mean, the game was plenty fun with no stakes involved. It got even more fun when I found out how to grab people.


    As I already stated, Manon is a grappler, which means that in order to most effectively inflict damage on opponents, she needs to grab and throw them. There were her regular throws, appropriately titled ¡®Forward Throw¡¯ and ¡®Back Throw¡¯ due to them being not special at all. For a while, those were the only throws I knew, since it was hard to land her two command grabs. I had no idea what ¡®63214P¡¯ meant when I read it at first¨Cit took me many tries to land my first on-purpose Manege Dore. The other command grab, Renverse, was only ¡®236P¡¯, which was easier to input for me. Only a quarter-circle. Landing these grabs increased the medal count I had. I started with 1, which meant that a landed Manege Dore would do 2000 damage. With each gained medal, the damage given per non-Super Art command grabs increases accordingly. If I had 5 medals and performed a Manege Dore, then I would do 3700 damage. That¡¯s a lot of damage for one move!


    Once I learned how to do Manon¡¯s command grabs, I moved on to trying to learn her Super Arts¡­this took me so long to learn. By this time, I was now familiar with the fighting game number notation, but I was still having the time of my life trying to successfully do ¡®236236P¡¯. I knew what I had to do¨Ctwo quarter-circles and then punch. That¡¯s all I had to do, and I couldn¡¯t fucking do it right. No matter what.


    I was about to say fuck it and turn off Street Fighter for the night until I got a message from Violet:


    [¡°how are u enjoying the game??¡±]


    [¡°Other than not knowing how to do my super art, i¡¯m doing well!¡±] I had no reason to lie to her. I was fuming, but I didn¡¯t want to be mean and take it out on her.


    [¡°why can¡¯t u do your super?¡±] Well gee, if I knew, I wouldn¡¯t be complaining about it. I stopped myself from responding in a smartass-tone.


    [¡°that¡¯s what I want to know!¡±] I seriously had no idea what I was doing wrong. [¡°i¡¯m doing the inputs correctly, but it only lets me do the move like once per fifty times¡±]


    [¡°oh i see¡­all i can tell you is that you¡¯ll get it down perfectly after some practice!! also, you don¡¯t have to do the inputs so fast¡±] Her advice was honestly the best advice there was¡­I was still very new to fighting games, it would take a while for me to be able to do inputs like they were natural. I¡¯m sure it was exactly like riding a bike.


    [¡°thank you. I¡¯ll get it eventually!¡±] I wanted to reassure her that I would get it, since I would. Talking to her calmed me down to the point where I didn¡¯t rage quit Street Fighter, and was about to hop on practice mode. Maybe my problem was that I was trying to do most of my learning in casual matches¡­


    [¡°btw, have u and francis decided on where to go yet??¡±]


    [¡°ehh¡­I think we do. Somewhere in florida. They still need to iron out the details¡±] It was happening, I knew that. When, I still didn¡¯t know.


    [¡°u don¡¯t seem too excited about it¡­¡±]


    Oh god, she¡¯s saying that again¡­let¡¯s just brush it off. [¡°haha sorry, i¡¯m just preoccupied with this whole ¡®learning how to do supers¡¯ thing. dont worry, i¡¯m excited. So excited that I¡¯ve already got a sunburn!¡±]


    [¡°I see¡­don¡¯t get a sunburn..they¡¯re bad for you¡±]


    [¡°yeah, dont worry, i wont.¡±] To be quite honest, I was kind of tired of playing for the night. I had hoped that if I stopped now, went to bed, and went back on tomorrow, I would magically learn how to do supers during that time. I also hated knowing that I was doing inputs that weren¡¯t registering for whatever reason. It gave me some insight into why fighting game players tend to be so toxic¡­not that FPS players are any better. As frustrating as it was, I knew that it was a skill issue that would quickly resolve itself. Until then, I would be sticking to casual matches, and practice mode for at least the next few minutes until I can actually hit my super. And also, not getting a sunburn while in Florida was impossible. No matter how much sunscreen I layer on.


    [¡°I mean it. The sun can cause permanent damage to your skin if you aren¡¯t careful.¡±] I think I stumbled upon another subject Violet knows about¡­


    <hr>


    Fast forward to the day after, all I did in Street Fighter was practice for around an hour. That¡¯s how long it took for it to finally click on the timing of supers. I was determined to get them down pat. To say that I had it one-hundred percent down would be a lie, but I definitely knew how to do it more than half the time now.


    I had only recently gotten home from work, and had to work tomorrow, so I wasn¡¯t planning on spending much time on Street Fighter 6, or any game for that matter. I was going to retire for the night soon and go to bed. I had to go to work in the morning and I hated working tired.


    Right as I exited the game, I got a message from Discord:


    [¡°do u want to play some sf6 sets??¡±]


    It was Violet, asking if I could play some Street Fighter with her. Above that message was what I could only describe as a primer on protecting my skin. Sunscreen was only the beginning. It was the best barrier to protecting my hide from the sun, according to her, but it was only a start. There were moisturizers, lotions, balms, all sorts of shit that she typed about. She was really passionate about it, which was hilarious considering that she never showed her skin while streaming. For all I know, she could be talking out her ass¨CI knew she wasn¡¯t however. Just like I¡¯d rather eat from a fat cook, I¡¯d rather take skincare advice from someone who sounds like they would take it seriously. She even linked a prior stream she did about the topic. It was good information, but I hadn¡¯t had the opportunity to go to a store and buy anything yet. I¡¯ll get to it eventually.


    [¡°No. I¡¯m about to go to bed.¡±] I wasn¡¯t going to beat around the bush. I was done for the day when it came to gaming in general. She had messaged me a few minutes too late. Too bad. Maybe tomorrow.


    [¡°come onnn, itll only be a few¡±]


    [¡°Sorry, don¡¯t really feel like it. A bit tired as well.¡±] I was only telling the truth.


    [¡°ure just scared¡­arent u?...¡±]


    [¡°No, not really.¡±] I think she was trying to push my buttons, but it wasn¡¯t going to work this time. I wasn¡¯t good enough at this game to have confidence to beat anyone¨Cof course I wouldn¡¯t be baited into some sets. I wasn¡¯t that scared at the fact that she would probably whoop my ass¨CI was content with the fact. I had not gained the fire that most fighting game players have when it comes to playing fighting games.


    Before she could get another word in, I messaged her again.


    [¡°How about tomorrow?¡±]


    I would be way more willing to play with her tomorrow. I get off of work earlier, and I would have plenty of time to play with her, especially since I have the day after off.


    [...fine. We can play tomorrow¡­¡±]


    I don¡¯t know why she seemed so disappointed about it¡­actually, I knew why, but I wish she would at least understand a bit more. Most of us don¡¯t get the luxury of getting to play games as part of our job. To be fair to her, it seemed that playing games was much less of the job than I had originally expected. It was the same in Michael¡¯s case, most of the time, he was doing ¡®projects¡¯. How hard they were, I didn¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t ever inquire about it.


    [¡°Well, I¡¯ll be on.¡±]


    I¡¯m sure she sent me a message after that, but I couldn¡¯t be bothered to respond to it right now. All I wanted to do was brush my teeth and get in bed. Then I could respond to her, if she did in fact send me something.


    Before we go further¡­did I ever ask if this was going to be offline or on stream? I¡¯ll check after shaving and brushing my teeth.


    <hr>


    Fast forward to the next day¨Ca little past 6 PM to be exact. I had just gotten off of work at the Lobby, and was about to go home. I had also been thinking about picking up some fast food on the way home, since there wasn¡¯t anything that stood out in the fridge to my knowledge. Knowing Michael, there was always a chance that he had ordered something during the time I was at work, and had a shit-ton of leftovers in the fridge. But I wanted something cooked for me, so I had to decide for myself¨Cwhat did I want to eat?


    There were a plethora of choices when it came to fast food. Right next to me (well, in the same plaza), was Arby¡¯s, KFC, Burger King and Pizza Hut. There was also a Chinese place and a hot dog place that specializes in footlong hot dogs. If I traveled outside of the plaza, I could get to chicken places like Zaxby¡¯s, Chick-fil-A, and Bojangles quickly. There were also good choices like Wendy¡¯s and Taco Bell, and okay ones such as Subway. There was a Schlotzky¡¯s that was like five-hundred feet closer that I would rather frequent at if I wanted something deli-like.


    There were also more local choices¡­I could check them out¡­maybe I should since I have some down time¡­


    Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I was immediately alerted with a message.


    [¡°ru still down to fight??¡±]


    It was you know who, who really seemed keen on kicking my ass in Street Fighter sometime soon. I was going to be going soon, but I was going to eat out which meant I would be home by 7 PM at the earliest. I was leaning towards the Chinese place¨CI had a hankering for some General Tso¡¯s. Who knew how long it would take for them to cook my plate. Probably not long if I¡¯m comparing to times I got take-out from there, but they could always surprise me. I knew she wasn¡¯t streaming later tonight because there wasn¡¯t any tweet about it. She still hadn¡¯t updated her schedule from last week so that was all I had to go by.


    ¡°Hey man, what¡¯s good?¡±


    That was one of my younger co-workers. I knew he was a minor since he was only allowed to work from 4 PM to 10 PM. I know that sounds weird to know, but you learn a lot of things when you look at schedules as a way of wasting time. The tiny ¡®[M]¡¯ beside his name on the schedule also gave it away.


    His name was Luther, by the way. He went by ¡®Lu¡¯. Not ¡®Lou¡¯, ¡®Lu¡¯. It was on his nametag so you didn¡¯t forget. It was pronounced the same though. He was a big, tall kid. If he was my son, I would be proud that my seed could produce such a specimen.


    ¡°Oh nothing, just trying to decide on what I want to eat when I clock out.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t lying¨Cwhile I was currently about to reply ¡®Yes.¡¯ to Violet, I still had dinner on my mind. My mind was pretty much made, but it was on it still. I would also add that he scared the shit out of me, but that wasn¡¯t his fault.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Have you decided yet?¡±


    Lu was what you would expect of a minor working part-time. He did his job, but that was about it. No one seemed to care, since all of the stocking got done on time anyway. He wasn¡¯t one to nag, unlike the old women up front, so he was good in my book. From the looks of it, he had just got here, so it wasn¡¯t like he was wasting time on the clock. Not that I give a shit about that anyway.


    ¡°Not really.¡± I have, but I wanted to hear what he had to say.


    ¡°Well, my recommendation is to get something from a place near here. Don¡¯t have to deal with traffic.¡±


    His recommendation was sensible. Well, at least until you considered that the ¡®traffic¡¯ would have to be dealt with either way. If the restaurant was on your way home, then it would make no difference how far away it was from work, if you were going home. I wasn¡¯t going to tell him this, since there were so many choices within the plaza anyways.


    ¡°Hmm¡­good idea. I¡¯ll get some Chinese.¡± I was going to go with it. Nothing too wild. Plus it was technically next door.


    ¡°Hell yeah man. Good choice.¡± I always smirked when a minor cursed. Lu was taller and more than likely stronger than me, so he might as well be a man already in my eyes, but still it made me smirk.


    With that, Lu walked away, I assumed to get to work. I needed to go ahead and order¨Cmost people would call in this situation, but I was more used to ordering online. I¡¯ve ordered from this place before, so I knew their website, and their website knew my card information.


    Standing at the corner of an aisle out of the way, it took under a minute to order¨Cthankfully the connection wasn¡¯t that bad inside the store. I would have to wait about ten minutes, which wasn¡¯t that much of a problem, all things considered. It would take about a minute total to get in my car, roll there, park, and get out. I could look at my phone for the other few minutes. It wasn¡¯t that much of a deal.


    I needed to get out of here. I didn¡¯t want to spend a second more at work than I had to. Only reason I was still here was because I would sweat sitting inside my car doing the same thing. There was only one thing I needed to do before I could go.


    [¡°Yes.¡±]


    It was going to take some time before I got home, but I was going to fight Violet in Street Fighter tonight. It wouldn¡¯t be easy for me at all. I never had that illusion in my mind. There¡¯s no way in hell I¡¯m going to win against her with this little preparation. Hell, I could¡¯ve skipped work, practiced all day, and still wouldn¡¯t be any closer to taking a game off her.


    To alleviate that, I was going to eat a big helping of General Tso¡¯s. Eating there, I could also take a chance to relax before I got home. Fighting games were a lot of things, but relaxing was not one of them.


    ¡°Are you going to that Chinese place next door?¡±


    That question scared the shit out of me¨Cnot because of the tone or anything, but because it snapped me out of my deep thinking about eating General Tso¡¯s.


    It was Lu again, who somehow knew what I was thinking¡­or what I had on my phone. You can¡¯t see it, but the kid was a good six inches taller than me. He should be hooping instead of putting up topstock.


    I decided to be nonchalant about his noisiness and lie:


    ¡°Yeah, haven¡¯t been there in a while.¡±


    It¡¯s been a few weeks. Maybe more. There were other Chinese places nearby, but this was the closest one.


    ¡°Alright then, have a good one.¡±


    I nodded at him, ¡°You too.¡±¨CI wanted to get out of the store. Lu had some ¡®working¡¯ to do of his own, so he walked the other way to the back. For real this time.


    Sometimes he had good stories to tell. A few months ago, he told me about a fight that had happened at his school¨Cor rather¨Coutside of the school premises, at a church parking lot across the road from his school. From what he said, it was ¡®two jocks¡¯ that were fighting. Typical, I guess. He didn¡¯t know what they were fighting about, but he knew that there was such a big crowd for it that there were a good fifteen vehicles there. He said he knew because he saw it. Not at the church parking lot, but from the gas station across the road. Apparently, it¡¯s ¡®on the way to work¡¯. Anyways, the fight itself wasn¡¯t anything special. Your typical high school fight between two strong young boys. The fight goes on for about a minute, until they suddenly stop. They don¡¯t help each other up, exchange hands, or even exchange pleasantries, but they get back to each of their trucks, and drive off. Everyone else there soon drives off after. That¡¯s his version of the tale.


    <hr>


    Fifteen minutes later¨CI had arrived at the Chinese restaurant and was served my General Tso¡¯s. With fried rice, a spring roll, and a tall glass of half sweet tea and half unsweet tea. The sweet tea here was good, but it had too much sugar. Enough to make me hurl. Every Chinese restaurant around here had the same issue. Half and half was a good workaround. This was the only opportunity I let myself enjoy sweet tea anymore, since each glass contained approximately a ton of sugar.


    The ambience of this Chinese place was the best in the area. Most Chinese places around here had the same setup, with the dining area and the checkout counter in the same area. In my head, I¡¯ve come up with two-tiers of Chinese restaurants¨Cones that separate the dining area and checkout, and those that don¡¯t. The ones that don¡¯t, in my experience, have served a lower-quality grade of Chinese food than the restaurants that do. This wasn¡¯t the case for any other type of restaurant. Certainly wasn¡¯t for Mexican restaurants. Why this was the case, I didn¡¯t know. I had already assumed that most of these places were part of different chains of Chinese restaurants, but I¡¯ve never put in the time to research my hypothesis. I wasn¡¯t nowhere near knowledgeable in the subject to be confident in my belief, but I had known the elephant in the room was that most of these Chinese places I was talking about weren¡¯t offering the ¡®authentic experience¡¯. General Tso wasn¡¯t a real guy. At least to my knowledge he wasn¡¯t. But he had his own chicken that was made for the American tastes. I guess it was the case for pretty much every variant of ethnic food, but I think General Tso has had the most success out of any ¡®Americanized¡¯ dish out there. There were many interpretations of General Tso¡¯s, this place being one of the better ones in my time.


    More on the ambience¨Cthe dining room had the effect of being brighter than it seemed due to the mostly black decor. The chairs and the tables were jet black, while the booths were checkerboard-print. The oddest addition in the room was the bar. It had no bartender and no one sitting on the stools. Hell, it didn¡¯t even have any alcohol behind the counter, but it was fully furnished and looked quite comfy, even if it was being used as extra storage space.


    I was currently watching a video on my phone while eating. I had wired earbuds in (only my left one, so I can hear the waitress on my right side) so I could listen to it. I could¡¯ve had this same experience if I got it for take out and ate it at home, but it¡¯s so much better eating at the restaurant. The video was about racing, but that wasn¡¯t that important.


    The General Tso¡¯s was pretty good. The fried rice and spring roll complimented it nicely¡­then again, who eats General Tso¡¯s without rice? It was nothing to write home about, but it was very much needed after a day at work. I guess it¡¯s all that I wanted when it came down to it.


    Due to you know who, I had gotten used to doing take out instead of eating inside. When you weren¡¯t paying, it was easier to get two of something. Unless it was with family, I usually wasn¡¯t going through the trouble of sitting down and dining.


    Before I was able to get further in my thoughts, I got a message from Violet:


    [¡°where r u? I thought u were off work by now?¡±]


    She was very impatient today it seemed. What was the hurry? Who knows.


    [¡°I¡¯m eating dinner.¡±] I wanted to tell her to chill the fuck out. I was trying to enjoy my Chinese. I don¡¯t sit down and eat at a restaurant that often.


    [¡°when will u be back ?¡±]


    Getting annoyed at having to pause eating to respond, I ended the conversation the nicest way I could.


    [¡°Ill message you when I get on.¡±] During work hours, my nerves could easily be worn thin if I was interrupted by customers too often. It was a very petty thing to get mad about, I know, but it annoyed me when my flow was interrupted by someone who couldn¡¯t bother going down a whole aisle to find what they wanted. What I hated more about it was the wave of superstition that came over me when these types of events happened. When I got rapid-fired I asked something multiple times while on the floor. I often wanted to ask customers, ¡°What do I look like? The Question Boy?¡±, but something like that would only confuse them or become aware of my hostility. Having a sticky note on the front and back of me that read ¡°DO NOT ASK ME QUESTIONS¡± wouldn¡¯t work either, because the customers that ask dumb questions are also often the ones that choose not to read. There were also the ones that would peek over at an aisle and stare at it for up to ten seconds at a time, buggy blocking two-thirds of the end of the aisle, but yet never enter it as if they didn¡¯t have permission. The ones that walked right beside their cart¡ªin all honesty, I get that one, since it¡¯s easier sometimes, but the issue is that doing it blocks more than half the aisle. You would have to get back behind your cart to let people past. Another one was when customers left their cart beside the endcap and went into the aisle by their lonesome. Again, I got that one, because it can be annoying pushing a buggy around (I do it for a living!), but it ends up causing traffic jams in the main pathways. Plus, there are times when carts get abandoned, so there¡¯s no way to tell if that¡¯s what happened or if they¡¯ll be back soon. Sometimes people did a shitty parking job before going down the aisle¡ªif it pisses me off enough I¡¯ll straighten it out so there¡¯s room to walk. What I really want to do is kick the shit out of it, but that¡¯s a no-no. There were the ones that roamed throughout the store, seemingly going in without a plan or even a shopping list, often having a shopping cart in toe. My deceased mind had decided that these customers had ¡®bad pathing¡¯¡ªor ¡®walked like a crackhead¡¯ if they really pissed me off. Reductive, but I couldn¡¯t help myself at work. It brings out the latent fascist in me. Then there were those who came in packs, with each person having their own cart. This didn¡¯t happen as much here as in grocery stores, but it still happened. It was infuriating, since these customers often stopped to talk to each other. Every occasion is an event I guess. I wish I could run those old bitches over but I wasn¡¯t able to legally. Needless to say that I hated when old people shopped.


    With that, I sat my phone on the other side of my booth. I was done with the video I was watching. If I put it in my pocket, I was bound to check it again if I got a notification. The buzzing sensation is impossible to ignore.


    Hopefully Violet got the message. The girl probably had plenty of others to play with anyway. Hundreds of thousands of fans, nonetheless friends in the ¡®community¡¯. She didn¡¯t need a newbie like me. Not like I was going to be out all night anyways.


    <hr>


    An hour later¨CI was finally home, settled. Tummy full. I was currently ready to start my computer and hop online.


    When I was done eating my General Tso¡¯s, I checked my phone. The need to stare at the phone overpowered the want to avoid everyone. Violet had not messaged me directly still, but had added me to a group DM and had sent messages in there.


    Upon inspection, the group had only three members: Violet, someone named ¡®Juliet Cromwell¡¯, and me. Reading the few messages that had been sent in chat confirmed that it was in fact for Street Fighter. Sensitive information so I can¡¯t share.


    Juliet was a member from NijiLive, AnyClover¡¯s biggest competitor. From what I know, she was from the first ¡®EN¡¯ generation, meaning that she had been around longer than Michael and Violet. NijiLive debuted their first VTubers about a year before AnyClover. I knew that VTubers from AnyClover and NijiLive talked to each other, but I didn¡¯t know they were this close. If you went online and observed discussion of the two companies, people tended to treat the two companies as if they were at odds. On imageboards, they might as well be in a blood feud. Those losers treated it like the console wars.


    To be honest, I really did like Juliet¡¯s model design. It had a bit more mature design. Not so much ¡®motherly¡¯, but more ¡®onee-san¡¯. Not the best choice of words, but you get the picture.


    Her hair was dark blonde, like the color of wheat. Her outfit had mostly a creamy white color, with splashes of dark green. The dress she had on was modest, but still couldn¡¯t hide the rather large breasts her model had. I was a huge fan of that. Her scheme reminded me of an Aveeno bottle. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if that was where the inspiration for her color scheme came from.


    Other than what she looked like, I didn¡¯t know much about her. I wasn¡¯t subscribed to her¨Cshe wasn¡¯t part of AnyClover EN so I never had any reason to do so, even if I liked the way she looked.


    I¡¯ve only heard of her every so often. Compared to Michael and Violet, she streamed way less, and posted less on Twitter. She was a two-to-three times a week streamer, going by her streaming schedule. That schedule came with obtaining a permanent foothold in the VTuber industry. She had been around a bit longer than the others as well, so that seniority gave her some privileges. Must be nice.


    I had not interacted with the group while on my way back home. But now that I was online, I was ready to play.


    When Discord opened, I clicked on the group I was added in. Violet and Juliet were already in a call, both playing Street Fighter 6.


    After giving my PC a minute to boot up, I put on my headset and joined the call.


    ¡°Greetings.¡± ¡°About time you joined!¡± Juliet¡¯s hello was interrupted by Violet being uncharacteristically loud. I guess fighting games brought that out of her.


    ¡°Well, my bad for wanting to enjoy my dinner.¡± I snapped back with what was, if we¡¯re being honest, a weak comeback. It was the truth though.


    Juliet started giggling, which stopped Violet from being able to immediately come back. Her giggle was amusing and also calming at the same time, which eased my nerves.


    ¡°...Anyways, come join our lobby so you can play Juliet. She¡¯s also new to fighting games.¡± Violet, while still a bit pointed with her word choice, also seemed calmer now.


    ¡°Alright, just give me a moment.¡± Street Fighter 6 took a few seconds to open. And it took a minute to join the lobby. I still wasn¡¯t the most familiar with the game, and it took a few clicks to get there as well.


    In the lobby, there was Juliet alone in a game. I clicked on it to join.


    ¡°How long have you been waiting?¡±


    ¡°Oh, not that long.¡± ¡°An hour!¡± Again, Violet overpowered Juliet with her loud response. This time, I thought better and didn¡¯t snap back.


    ¡°Well, my job is twenty minutes away from home, so even if I didn¡¯t get something to eat, you would have had to wait that long. I probably should¡¯ve told you that earlier.¡± I tried to be measured with my response, while still getting the point across.


    ¡°Oh, well, it doesn¡¯t matter anymore since you¡¯re on.¡± Once again, she had calmed back down.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t imagine not working from home, let alone at a place that far away¡­¡± Juliet empathized with my struggle, which honestly felt good. It really wasn¡¯t that far away, all things considered. The more I noticed, the more I liked her voice. ¡°...by the way, you¡¯re Francis¡¯s roomie-chan, right?¡±


    Couldn¡¯t you just say roommate? ¡°Yeah...¡± Her voice was attractive enough for me to not question her unneeded use of honorifics.


    ¡°Nice to meet you. Anytime Francis has you on, I know it¡¯ll be a hoot.¡±


    ¡°Heh, nice to meet you as well.¡± Maybe I need to get on more if women like her are watching¡­for real though, it was surprising she knew me. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t be surprised at this point.


    With our small talk over, we both readied up and started fighting.


    <hr>


    Fast forward an hour later. Juliet and I had played many games, with her ending up on top 11-9.


    ¡°Damn, I was that close to coming on top.¡±  I was starting to get a handle on how to strategize during in game (compared to button-mashing, which I occasionally fell into the trap of). Manon was a character with relatively few moves, so that played in my hands as well. I could inflict a lot of damage on my opponent if I successfully lured them into being grabbed. Juliet, being new to fighting games as well, left herself open to being punished by Manon¡¯s tosses. I wasn¡¯t able to capitalize on it however, because:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">I didn¡¯t recognize her vulnerability</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">I messed up the timing of my supers</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Not wanting to go ¡®too hard¡¯ on Juliet¨Cnever mind the fact that I didn¡¯t have the ability to go ¡®too hard¡¯</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">I was also leaving myself open. Often more than her.</li>


    </ul>


    All of this information was fed to me by Violet, who was invested in our games to the point where she started trying to give us both tips while we were fighting. She should know better, since we both were too locked in to even tell her to be quiet. Talking to someone that was playing a fighting game is like trying to talk to someone while they¡¯re in the middle of doing a deadlift.


    As for playing against Juliet, I can only say that it was a wonderful experience. If you¡¯ve caught on by now, you could tell I was crushing pretty hard. I don¡¯t know what it was, but it felt like being on a date (with a chaperone). It was wishful thinking on my part, but I couldn¡¯t help it.


    To put it simply, Juliet¡¯s voice was as sweet as syrup. While she was also sometimes excited (fighting games tend to do that), her voice never ceased to be soft, like my ears were brushing up against a pillow. Even when she did a quick, high-pitched ¡®ohmygosh!¡¯ after I beat her while having one pixel of health left, it wasn¡¯t irritating to hear. In fact, it was welcoming. In fact, all of the sounds she let out while gaming were adorable. One of the few things I knew about her was that her fans often posted clips of her going ¡®oohh¡¯ and ¡®aahh¡¯, among other things¨Cseeing them randomly on Twitter out-of-context, I skipped past them. At the time I thought it was a bit strange, but now I kinda understood why. Having hundreds upon hundreds of clips of you making noises must be weird, but it¡¯s part of the job. And thank goodness they¡¯re clipping Juliet.


    I had no clue where this feeling was coming from¨Cwas it because I had a long day? Well, all things considered, my day today was fine. Sure, I had the usual complaints about work, but I was just being a bitch. I was like those old ladies at the register that complain about others ¡®not doing work¡¯ while all they have to do is stand in one place, occasionally for up to forty-five minutes. Hell, sometimes it was an hour without a bathroom break!


    Either way, I was flustered by meeting Juliet. There was no other way to put it. Of course, I tried and successfully kept my cool. I think I did. Teenager me would be so proud for not spilling the spaghetti.


    After Juliet and I were done with our Street Fighter 6, Juliet bid her farewells and left the voice call. I pondered being sleazy and sending her a friend request, but she left the group before I could even try. I relented for now and instead followed her on Twitter and subscribed to her on YouTube. Maybe I¡¯ll get a membership soon.


    ¡°Well, that was fun.¡± I was repeating myself to Violet, who was doing her own thing at this point.


    ¡°You seem like you had a good time.¡± Violet had a teasing tone, as if she was virtually poking at me. Was she picking on my attraction to Juliet?


    ¡°Yeah, I did.¡± I tried to play it off cool, which looking back, probably gave it away even more.


    ¡°Heh, you totally are simping for her, hmm?¡± Damn, Violet was really on my ass tonight! Even she would occasionally strike when she smelled blood.


    ¡°Yeah¡­what of it?¡± This whole conversation feels childish, but I couldn¡¯t help it.


    ¡°I get it. She¡¯s such a beautiful woman¡­¡± Thankfully, she reeled back her teasing and empathized with me.


    ¡°Her voice certainly is beautiful.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s just as pretty and nice in real life as well.¡± Damn! She¡¯s gotten to meet her in real life? Well, it made sense considering they¡¯re both in the same business. How¡¯d she get to see her if they¡¯re in different companies though? Who knows¡­


    ¡°Damn¡­must be nice.¡±


    ¡°Sure is! I get to stay at home and play games with beautiful girls in them, and I get to be friends with beautiful women as well!¡± Violet¡¯s mocking laugh was starting to grind my gears¡ªthat is until she started coughing. Apparently she gets into coughing fits a lot, which causes her model to spasm out when it happens on stream. Thankfully for her fans, they never have to listen to her cough for half a minute straight.


    I mumbled, ¡°Alright, now you¡¯re just rubbing it in.¡± The coughing fit was instant karma, but the underlying fact was still true. There wasn¡¯t any woman that worked at Hobby Lobby that came even close to Juliet with their soft voice¨Cthey were all middle-aged and mostly crabby. Even if I wanted to hook up with one of them, they were all married and wouldn¡¯t ever think about cheating. Well, that¡¯s the impression I got anyways. God will frown upon you for sinning, especially if you work for his chosen arts and crafts store. We¡¯re all foot soldiers for JC himself, including me, who wasn¡¯t a believer and hadn¡¯t been to a church in a decade. I would say we¡¯re ¡®mini Popes¡¯, but Hobby Lobby protruded the type of Protestantism that tried to imply that ¡®Christian¡¯ and ¡®Catholic¡¯ were two separate things.


    ¡°Well, she¡¯s hard to get a hold of, so you¡¯re lucky you even got to play against her.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Guess that explains her weird urgency. ¡°I should¡¯ve told you that it takes me a while to get home.¡± Even then, I would¡¯ve probably not rushed home because I didn¡¯t know there was a beauty waiting for me. I was a different man than I was two hours ago.


    ¡°Well, I know now.¡± Yes, you do.


    ¡°I hope it¡¯s¡­heh¡­,¡± I couldn¡¯t help myself but laugh at my upcoming corniness, ¡°...I hope it¡¯s water under the bridge now.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing.¡±

 For Your Ears Only/The Forbidden Stream

    ¡°¡¾ASMR¡¿ KU100 ? whispers ? ear cleaning ? affirmations [NijiLive EN | Juliet Cromwell]¡±


    I was lying in bed, staring at the video title on my phone.


    I was on Juliet¡¯s YouTube page, looking at her most popular live streams. Other than her debut stream, her ASMR streams were the most popular by view count. Her most popular one had well over two million views, with the one behind it about to break that barrier.


    While it sounded weird at first, I quickly came to understand why her ASMR streams were played way more than other streams. For one, the ASMR streams capped out at an hour, which was around two hours shorter than her average gaming stream. You could watch it thrice in the time you could watch one ¡®regular¡¯ stream. The replayability factor of ASMR streams was way higher than other streams as well, because fundamentally it was a different type of stream. Rather than relying on your eyes to watch, you used your ears to listen. The point of ASMR was to relax the listener¡ªmost of them couldn¡¯t care less if they were listening to a repeat video. In fact, I¡¯m sure most listeners had their favorite streams that they had on rotation. It was like a song, or rather a lullaby I guess.


    The title of an ASMR stream gave away what ¡®triggers¡¯ were to be used. Triggers in this case were things like the sound from spraying shaving cream, whispering onomatopoeias, and giving an ear massage. That was what I was getting from the titles I was reading.


    To be honest, I had little interest in ASMR, mostly because I had other videos I could put on my TV. Sure, I could play a random ASMR video on my phone, and potentially be relaxed. There was also the possibility of it having the opposite effect¨Cyou never knew with that type of stuff. Especially when some of the videos have titles like ¡®YANDERE ROLEPLAY¡¯. That was the theme of one of Juliet¡¯s ASMR videos. It was within the top ten most viewed streams from her. To be fair, it was a shorter stream, relative to the other ASMR streams, so it could be replayed even more. I wasn¡¯t going to tune in just yet, but I bet it was still listenable, even if it was cringeworthy. If it was from anyone else I would make sure YouTube knew that I didn¡¯t like their recommendation.


    To relax and wind down, I¡¯d rather have a race on TV. Having YouTube on TV was a godsend. Cable could run out of good things on air, but YouTube never had that issue. And the good thing is that there¡¯s countless VODs of past races out there. NASCAR, GT, Rally, Hillclimb, you name it, it¡¯s likely on YouTube. Unless it''s F1¨CLiberty Media wants you to pay to see that¨CI¡¯d have to go on a Russian website to bypass that hurdle. And unlike ASMR streams, there¡¯s zero chance it¡¯ll make me feel weird. Truth be told, I¡¯ve never tuned in for an ASMR video. Not even once. One could argue that the sounds of motors revving rhythmically for hours straight is a form of ASMR, but that was only if it was commentary-free.


    There was also the possibility that there was something on TV that I wanted to watch in bed¨Csomething like a football game or a NASCAR race. Those nights were sparse other than in the fall months. It was almost summer, so there was no football on, and it wasn¡¯t the weekend, so no racing. There was probably basketball, baseball, or hockey on TV, but I didn¡¯t really care enough to check. On most nights I would, but tonight was a different situation. I was going to listen to Juliet¡¯s whispering voice. Her regular voice, the one I heard earlier, was relaxing enough already, but this was bound to be on a whole other level. There was also going to be ¡®ear cleaning¡¯, which to be honest I had no idea entailed. Maybe it sounded like when you used a cotton swab in your ear? I knew you weren¡¯t supposed to do that, but I don¡¯t care, it¡¯s the only way to get earwax out without lighting a candle and putting it in your ear. As for affirmations, I already knew what that would be. Not really my thing, but I could handle it if it was coming out of Juliet¡¯s mouth. Hopefully I¡¯ll be asleep by the time she gets to those. Or maybe I¡¯ll swallow my pride and aimlessly smile while she goes through the list.


    I had my earbuds plugged in my phone. Wired ones, not wireless. I found it easier to fall asleep than wearing headphones. Headphones tend to slide off, and get in the way more if I¡¯m tossing and turning. Wireless earbuds would be a nightmare to find if it fell out of my ear.


    Enough beating around the bush¨CI tapped on the video to start it.


    The video started immediately. The ¡®intro¡¯, if it could be called one, was about two seconds long. The screen was covered by enlarged wheat stalks, which revealed what was an illustration of her sitting on a chair next to a bed. There were no special effects or anything. Just her greeting the audience quietly.


    Closing my phone, I had to open the lock screen to start the audio again. Annoying. After that, I closed it for good, along with my eyes.


    Juliet spent the first few minutes whispering about the microphone. She had ¡®recently¡¯ got it repaired. This VOD was from over a year ago, so I hope it still works. From what she was saying, the KU100 mic was very expensive. Like in the four figure range. The KU100 mic was apparently shaped like a human head, which explained the stone face in the video thumbnail. It looked grey and nondescript. Perfect enough to be a self-insert. The more I thought about it, the more absurd it seemed that a microphone could cost thousands of dollars, even if it was a studio-quality one.


    I was so curious about it that I opened my eyes and grabbed my phone.


    Searching up ¡®ku100 mic¡¯, I got results for the ¡®Neumann KU 100¡¯. One of the first results was a listing for one:


    $8,999.00 ¡¤ ?Free 2-day delivery ¡¤ ?30-day returns ¡¤ ?In stock


    Well, at least the shipping was free.


    On the page for the microphone, it was advertised as ¡®THE EASIEST WAY TO CREATE 3D AUDIO¡¯. The microphone was, as depicted in the thumbnail, shaped like a moai drawn from memory. Looking at images close up, the ¡®ears¡¯ of the microphone, which were where the two microphones were located, were modeled to resemble actual human ears. Guess that¡¯s worth at least a thousand dollars each.


    Going in deeper, I read:


    Due to its natural and transparent sound, the KU 100 can be used for all kinds of head related recordings. Typical applications range from classical recordings and radio drama productions to experimental pop and ambient recordings. In addition, the Neumann KU 100 is also often used for industrial applications, e.g. documenting and examining noise in automobiles or work places.


    From what I was reading, this microphone was so expensive because it was meant for professional and industrial use. Almost ten thousand¡­yeah, you would have to have a good reason for buying it at that price point. ASMR? Well, it fits in with the self-insert factor, since the microphone does give an almost perfect binaural feel. As if you were really there. My earbuds aided in this¡ªwatching this on TV would ruin the immersion. You¡¯d have to be a real freak to watch ASMR on the telly in the first place.


    By this time, Juliet had started her ¡®ear cleaning¡¯ session, which sounded exactly like how I thought it would¡ªlike cotton swabs being twisted around inside your earlobe. The ¡®ears¡¯ on her microphone were more than for presentation. You could hear it when she tugged on one of them. That authenticity was the only reason why people like her paid nine bands for it. It had to be. I¡¯m still shocked at how much it costs that much. The price tag of the KU 100 was starting to get to me. It was such a huge investment for something to use only a few times a year. Juliet probably made that back in spades, but still. Nine thousand dollars! Shipping being free saved about ten dollars, so it wasn¡¯t all bad.


    Before I went deeper into the rabbit hole, I closed my phone. After again unpausing the video from the lock screen, I slowly drifted to sleep¡­at least that was the plan.


    One minute passed. Two more. Then ten. Or maybe five. It felt like ten. All listening to Juliet ¡®cleaning¡¯ my ears while speaking intermittently. It was relaxing, I couldn¡¯t deny. I felt at peace listening to her. Her ¡®blowing¡¯ my ears sounded even better. As someone who only got wet willies in the past, this was quite something special. The phrase I was looking for was ¡®Better than sex¡¯. Quite frankly, it was. The KU 100 was proving its worth second by second. I could listen to her soft whispers forever. However, they weren¡¯t enough to drift into the dream world. It wasn¡¯t anything to do with her. No. I knew what it was.


    I had never been able to sleep on my back¨CI don¡¯t know why, but unless I was dead tired, it was impossible. It just wasn¡¯t possible. Another one of my skill issues. I could lay here for the whole stream and still not fall asleep, even though I was completely at peace with myself and the world. Rather than try to do the impossible, I resigned to reality.


    I shifted to my side, which made it temporarily uncomfortable in my right ear. That pain subsided quickly, and I returned to my silent listening¨Cwith my right side sounding slightly muffled. The only annoying thing was the feeling of the cold cord touching my naked body. That too subsided, albeit taking a few seconds longer. I was lucky to not have any cord tugging issues when flipping¨CI usually had a tendency to flip by going ¡®under¡¯, which required more manpower than simply flipping over. For whatever reason, it often led to me being more comfortable once said side flip was done than if I did it the normal way. Anyways, that usually was a no-go with wired earbuds in. Flipping from one side to another, that is. Being on my back saved me from having to take my earbuds off.


    Thinking about it, it was a good call to go with earbuds instead of my headphones. Sure, my headphones were wireless, which made the flipping problem above moot. They also had better quality. The issue was that it would be impossible to sleep on my side with them on. I¡¯ve tried before. Maybe it¡¯s possible for other people, but I¡¯ve never been able to do it. Even with a rolled up blanket on my neck so it was stabilized.


    Laying on my side, I laid there for a minute. And then two. And then five.


    The position I was laying in was quite comfortable. I felt quite good. I was in fact feeling great. My chest was giving off a glow that only happened when I either was drunk or ¡®in love¡¯. I haven¡¯t had this feeling in what felt like years. The feeling of listening to someone that you love. To say I was ¡®in love¡¯ with Juliet would be jumping the gun by a mile, but to say that I wasn¡¯t infatuated at this point would be straight up lying. The feeling had to been intensified since I was lucky enough to have a 1v1 session (with Violet as the third wheel) with her. Tricked the monkey brain into subliminally thinking that she was doing this only for me, and not for her fanbase. I was fine with keeping it that way for now.


    No, the problem was that my ear was starting to hurt again. The pain was minor, but just enough to be on my mind. I could try to wait it out, but it was the same as an inch. It was a psychological game I didn¡¯t want to play right now.


    All in all, it was an easy operation¨Call I had to do was lift my head¨Cthe earbud fell on my pillow and wasn¡¯t able to be felt when I put my head back down. I considered myself lucky I didn¡¯t manage to put my head on top of it.


    The one major downside to this was that now I was only getting one side of Juliet¡¯s ASMR. I¡¯d only get to hear half of what she¡¯s saying. There were multiple parts that were silent now. Maybe a bit more ¡®realistic¡¯, but a bummer since I was missing out on half the action.


    She was now getting into her ¡®affirmations¡¯ section. To be quite clear, it wasn¡¯t my favorite part. While her voice was as addicting to hear as ever, it felt pandering to be told that I was doing my best and all that ¡®there, there¡¯ stuff. I¡¯d rather have her talk about random shit than whatever fanservice this is. Feels even more pandering especially since she had just beaten me in Street Fighter hours ago.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    That being said, it still did kind of make me smile.


    <hr>


    [¡°¡­Liberty, Liberty!¡±]


    Fast forward¡­I don¡¯t know, but I was definitely in the future.


    I had been asleep for probably thirty minutes before I was awoken by an ad. Unfortunately insurance companies did their commercials in mono. And the Liberty people had a penchant for their particularly annoying jingle. They¡¯ve been on my shit list for years now for that.


    Opening my phone to see what the hell was playing next, my answer came instantly.


    [¡°NASCAR Cup drivers have been ¡®California dreaming¡¯ of this-¡±]


    Thankfully, YouTube decided that NASCAR was the next best logical step to play after Juliet¡¯s ASMR. It¡¯s based on my history, I know, but I¡¯m glad it did that rather than play something related to what I just listened to. Apparently I wouldn¡¯t get blasted with ads if I had YouTube Premium. Another fucking subscription offer. Sad thing was that I would probably benefit greatly if I got it. I watched YouTube way more than I watched television.


    Going back to the ASMR video, I glanced at the comments. The top comment, as you may expect, was a self-deprecating comment. ¡°Don¡¯t let my family know I¡¯ve down this bad.¡± Punchlines often get less humorous when they get repeated, but as I¡¯ve observed in the VTuber community, they love pulverizing dead horses.


    That aside, my mind wandered to what the live chat would¡¯ve been like. The live chat of an ASMR stream¡­well, for one, bad behavior was often punished swiftly in chat, so perverts wouldn¡¯t be around. With Juliet not talking to the chatroom (other than for a mic check), all I could imagine it would be is a flood of emotes and ¡®TSKR¡¯¡¯s. That was about as good as it was going to get, which to be quite honest wasn¡¯t that bad compared to other chat rooms. The flip side was that the existence of one reminded me that I was one of thousands listening. Not at the moment, but at the time live-streamed.


    It¡¯s an uncomfortable feeling, to put it one way. How many sickos were stroking it while watching? Even imagining that made my face curl. How dare you subjugate Juliet to your perverseness? If I could, I would kill those men, and even women if they were that depraved too! Although I doubt any woman would be ¡®down bad¡¯ that way¨Cwomen tended to be horny more esoterically. More likely to masturbate to roleplay ASMR rather than¡­what was this called? ¡®Comfy ASMR¡¯? Horrible name, but it fits the billing. And it was comfy, I¡¯ll tell you that.


    I could go on, but I really wanted to go back to bed, so I decided to put my phone away, plugging it in so it would be fully charged in the morning. A good chunk of my battery was used listening to Juliet¡¯s perfect voice. Combine that with it being used throughout the day, my phone was now in the red. Below 20% battery. It wasn¡¯t before. That¡¯s YouTube¡¯s fault. My phone will be fully charged in the morning¨Cthat is, if I remember to plug it in.


    Opening my eyes and tugging the cord to make sure it was connected, I was finally convinced that I did in fact plug my phone in. Just like saving multiple times in a video game, I also had to check over things I just did sometimes. Embarrassing, but not like anyone would know.


    There wasn¡¯t a reason to put on a timer, since I didn¡¯t have to technically be up until after noon. That was a good half-day away, and while I enjoyed my sleep, I wasn¡¯t going to be in bed for twelve hours.


    With that, I went to bed for good.


    <hr>


    Fast forward¡­about probably nine hours. Around that range. It was starting to feel uncomfortable to sleep anymore, which was as good a signal as anything else that I needed to get up.


    ¡®Getting up¡¯ in this situation meant pulling myself back and laying against the headboard. Of course, I adjusted my pillows to give me some fluff between my skin and the cold hard wood. It was real wood. I could tell by knocking on it. That and because Miss Landlord told me personally. She was very proud of all the heavy ass furniture she had bought. All together, it was probably worth as much as the house, itself being in the middle of a Ship of Theseus situation with the constant repairs and improvements.


    I had given myself about four hours to get ready for work in the afternoon, which meant that I could goof off for about two hours. All I really had to do was drink my coffee, eat something, take my shower, and brush my teeth. You¡¯d be surprised how fast you can accomplish all four of those tasks when pushed to the limit. You could brush your teeth while taking a shower. You could make your coffee lukewarm enough to drink fast. The ¡®something¡¯ you eat could be half of a granola bar. You could drink coffee while on the way to work. It would ruin the point of brushing before, but that¡¯s a sacrifice you have to make sometimes.


    Today, I didn¡¯t have to do any of those shenanigans. Like someone wise, I was up way before my shift started. I had never been one to wake up right before I had to go to work. Good thing today, that meant waking up anytime before 1 PM. I was way too old to be up at 5 AM gaming these days.


    Opening my phone up, I pondered what to do with my few hours of free time¡­there was really only one thing I could do and still feel good about it¨Cread a book. Some sim racing might be fun as well, but that was taken away from me. Well, walking across the house to (one of) Michael¡¯s rooms half-naked would be a bit weird, sim racing or not.


    Like any good PoliSci grad, I had PDFs and PUB3s of books I haven¡¯t read yet on my phone. There was one in particular that I was interested in reading. The book? Not telling. Mostly because there¡¯s a chance that it¡¯s not worth reading. Or maybe it is, but the version I have is poorly formatted. PUB3¡¯s often are. Especially if you don¡¯t pay for them.


    Opening my eBooks app, I pondered if I could step into decadence again. Get a little more sugar with my spice. The spice in this case being my book¡­well, thinking about it, my book would be the opposite of spice. A bitter book? Yeah, most books revolving around politics and history would be ¡®bitter¡¯, as in the way that you¡¯d take the first bite and want to ¡®leave it for someone else that enjoys it more¡¯. As you may guess, I was that person. Even if I wasn¡¯t reading these books for a class anymore, it never hurt to learn a thing or two. Teach you new ways of thinking. Maybe even give you more insight and perspective on issues and topics you already know about. You were never too old to learn something. That was my outlook on it anyway.


    Realizing I was staring at the eBooks on my app, I went back to YouTube to decide on which Juliet video to play while reading. She had an extensive library of ASMR videos, I went with a random one. I don¡¯t even know what the title of the video was¨Cthe thumbnail had ¡®HEALING ASMR¡¯ on it, so I imagine it was going to be some of the same as what I heard last night. It wasn¡¯t as I was into ASMR more so that I was fond of hearing her. I was really digging her, and I had hundreds of hours of content to watch with her in it. It wasn¡¯t like all she did was ASMR¡ªI could watch her play a game or talk to her chat. She didn¡¯t have much other content than that. I expected her to have a cooking stream or two, but I couldn¡¯t find any. I wasn¡¯t particularly interested in watching her cook, but I found it odd. I already knew she was better at it than Michael. Well, no one watched a VTuber cook because of their cooking talent, and it was quite a handful to set it up as well. I know from watching Michael do it. Playing a new game or reading unread superchats was easier to do. Juliet herself was enough in my book.


    Enough thinking¨Ctime to read and chill out for a bit.


    <hr>


    It was sitting there, right on the top left corner of YouTube. The first thing that YouTube wanted to recommend me.


    ¡°[YANDERE ASMR] dont run away from me¡­ [ AnyCloverEN | Francis Fukuyama]¡±


    Yeah¡­Michael was doing an ASMR stream tonight. I had just gotten home from work¨Cthe time was currently 10:30 PM, which I could imagine was peak time for ASMR streams. All of my knowledge about ASMR I learned second-hand. Juliet¡¯s ASMR was the first time I¡¯ve watched, or rather, listened to an ASMR video.  That was yesterday. And now the YouTube algorithm was pushing me other VTuber ASMR videos. This one way different however¡ªfor one, it was live. As in it was happening right now. For two, it was being done by my roommate in his room, across the house. If he was true to his word and not playing a prerecorded video, he was being ¡®yandere¡¯ as of now a hundred feet away from me.


    Now, I wasn¡¯t an expert on ASMR whatsoever, but one thing I knew was that it was supposed to be soothing to the ears. There was nothing that sounded pleasing about the scenario the listener was implied in. I knew my dere types as well¨Cyandere was by far one of my least favorite ¡®deres¡¯. I¡¯ve always viewed people that are into yanderes as people who are so desperate that they would take anything. Clinginess in general gets on my nerves, so this type of thing could turn me off even if it was coming out of Juliet¡¯s soft lips. Also, he¡¯s my roommate. I have to hear him everyday as it is. I don¡¯t watch his regular streams, nonetheless the ones meant for the most mentally ill of his fanbase.


    I don¡¯t know what possessed me the next moment. All I could blame it on was curiosity. Or that it might be a trainwreck. Either way, what mattered was that I clicked on the thumbnail to the stream, which in turn redirected me to the livestream currently going on.


    I cringed in anticipation of what I was about to hear¨Cbut what I heard instead surprised me more. What I heard was¡­nothing. I tuned in when he was muted. For whatever reason, I don¡¯t know.


    I sat there, waiting for something, anything, to happen. It took a good ten seconds for the sound of dead air to disappear. Then I heard what sounded like suction sounds on both sides of my ears. It sounded like when you got water trapped in your ears and you move your earlobe around your ear canal. Not at all like when Juliet did her ear cleaning. This sounded more like someone covering your ears, as to prevent you from hearing. Not really what came to mind when it came to pleasant sounds, but hey, most others probably loved it.


    While there was definitely ASMR going on, there was a severe lack of a yandere edge to it. Not that I was complaining¡­it just¡­seemed too normal. I could say that he¨Cor rather, the fan art of his model that was being used as a background¨Clooked fancy. Not really screaming ¡®yandere¡¯, but suitable enough I gu-


    ¡°I¡¯ll kill any man that looks at you~¡­even my roommate~¡­¡±


    It was said in a slightly exaggerated lower tone, which I should expect, but the fact that I voluntarily was listening to this, and the fact that I just heard that my roommate was going to kill any man that ¡®looks at me¡¯, even me, both shocked and baffled me. The not so subtle dragging along of words gave me the creeps as well. Well, no sexual awakening tonight.


    I closed out of the stream immediately. I shouldn¡¯t have been there in the first place. All I hoped now was that YouTube wouldn¡¯t further fuck up my algorithm because of this. I really should just delete the stream from my history. And all of Juliet¡¯s too, since that was the source of all of this.


    Even though I was only there for thirty seconds total, I came with some takeaways. Yes, he does do roleplaying in his ASMR. No, he doesn¡¯t tune his voice down to a comically low tone. Yes, he tunes his voice down. No, he doesn¡¯t bark or do any other weird noises which quite honestly would be the negative ASMR in my opinion. Yes, it was horrifying. This is based off of the thirty seconds that I heard, so you might get a different experience. Hopefully yours is more fulfilling.


    <hr>


    About two hours later after that incident, I got up one last time before I meant to set off to bed. I went to the kitchen to fill up my water bottle. It was 32 ounces big, and the fridge¡¯s water filter was a tad slow, which meant that it took around 45 seconds to fill it up completely.


    Sometime between those seconds, a pair of footsteps came from the hall. It was Michael, who came out with his tea cup in hand. He was probably about to brew another cup.


    As he walked by, he said ¡°hey¡± very nonchalantly. Like he didn¡¯t just get done doing probably more than an hour¡¯s worth of ¡®yandere roleplaying¡¯. He was really trying to act normal now.


    Replying to what I saw two hours ago in my head, I replied with a ¡°hey¡± of my own, plus a few chuckles that were unfortunately louder than anticipated.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing.¡± It would probably weird him out too if I let it slip that I tuned into his stream, so I decided to pretend that nothing ever happened.


    The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, in my opinion at least. I was going to play stupid and change the subject.


    ¡°Are you still streaming?¡±


    ¡°Oh no. I finished probably about an hour ago.¡±


    ¡°Hmm, I see.¡± Playing oblivious was the right move. At least I think it is. For his own sake. ¡°Well, hope it was a good one.¡± I said as I was walking back to my bedroom, ready to wash my face and brush my teeth.


    At that moment, I dropped the oblivious act. I had to set the record straight. Plus, to be honest, I wanted to see what he would say:


    ¡°By the way, I¡¯d smoke you like a Newport.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t kill me.¡±


    Michael, confused at first, got flustered as expected. ¡°You were listening?¡±


    All I did was smile and shake my head. ¡°I have ears everywhere son.¡±


    <hr>


    I was in bed, ready to go to sleep¡­not really. Tomorrow was Sunday, which meant that I was free from the shackles of the Lobby. Monday, however, was going to be a full nine-hour work day. On the outside looking in, it looks like hell. At least it does for me. But when I¡¯m in the shit, then it¡¯s okay. The process of getting to and from work is what is the worst for me. Also, the anxiety that creeps in when the day as you know it is coming to the end. I get this feeling that I haven¡¯t done something that I really needed to do. Or that I¡¯m missing out on something. Or that I don¡¯t want this current day to end. The oddest part was that I was getting anxious about the day after tomorrow! What the hell! That was tomorrow¡¯s issue! Other than the whole ASMR video ¡®situation¡¯, today had been normal. Simply, I didn¡¯t want to start the process of going to work again. That¡¯s what I think it was. Because I get the same feeling before going on vacation.


    Anyways, I was on my phone passing the time by. I could be gaming, but I was already retired for the night. I didn¡¯t hop on Street Fighter tonight¨Cjust didn¡¯t feel like it. I really should turn on my TV just to have something on, but I was too lazy to grab my remote. So phone it was for now at least. I was on Twitter mulling around. Despite all the drama surrounding it, it was still the social media site to go to.


    There was a tweet from Juliet:


    ¡°Should I do an ASMR stream next week?¡±


    What this meant, in my interpretation, was that she was going to do an ASMR stream. The answer was already predetermined. Duh, of course me and all of your other simpletons want to hear you tell us it¡¯s all going to be okay! But for real, it was like a teacher asking their class if they¡¯d like to not have homework tonight.


    Despite Twitter having a poll function, Juliet decided not to have one included with her post. I knew the outcome was already decided, but I still wanted to have a say. After all, every vote counts!


    I went to reply:


    [¡°??</a>¡±]


    Every other reply under the post was a variation of what I posted. I¡¯m glad we were all in agreement. Usually the blue checkmarks that replied had nothing good to say, but they were also saying yes. In this case, the ¡®blue checkmarks¡¯ were mostly other VTubers¨Csome from NijiLive and some from other places. I guess those people were independent or part of smaller companies. My account, which didn¡¯t have anything on it besides a keysmash that was my handle, was only used to reply. Usually to news or to call public figures I didn¡¯t like stupid, but this was the first time I participated in VTuber shenanigans. Even if I followed Michael and his cohorts, I¡¯ve never replied or even liked any of their posts. Now, I was a peon upon thousands of other peons. A simpleton upon simpletons. I didn¡¯t care right now. Even if I had the pleasure of talking and playing a fighting game with her, I was the same as every other fan and stan. I think I was starting to get why these women and men were so popular. Well, at least Juliet. Who couldn¡¯t love her? By the way, I¡¯ve already paid the five bucks to have access to her member streams. Best value around.

 The Workout Chapter

    I had no idea how long it had been since I last worked out. It was probably sometime around last year. I had not gone this year, even though I had a membership to a gym with a location near where I work. I knew I needed to go, but I had no real desire to go. It wasn¡¯t as if I was out of shape. I walked around a lot at work. That had to count for something. I almost never broke a sweat at work, so it wasn¡¯t like I put it under the most strenuous of situations¡­thinking about it, there have been some times when I did tasks similar to workouts. I was able to avoid most demanding retail activities, like cartpushing, by working in stores where ¡®cartpushing¡¯ was at most pushing three carts back.


    As for most cases of me having to break a sweat at work, they was caused by my own lack of foresight. Like the time when I carried two 40-count water bottles stacked on top of each other from the back of the store to the front. Of course, we had dollies and carts available that made this task much easier, but for some reason, I forgoed getting one because I thought it would take too much time to get one. Well, that was a mistake. I knew 40-pack cases of water were pretty heavy, but I never expected them to be forty pounds each. If I knew that, I would have never carried two of them¨Canything over fifty pounds is teamlift territory.


    Anyways, at one pound per water bottle, which meant that I voluntarily carried eighty pounds worth of shit for about ninety seconds. I don¡¯t know why, but water weight felt much heavier than any other type of weight. Could be just the way I carried it¨Crelying totally on the support of my arms and back. Terrible form, but again, I was more focused on finishing the task at hand than doing it correctly. I was out of breath by time I was finally able to drop the waters on the BOPIS counter up front. Thankfully they picked up inside. They had a cart ready so I didn¡¯t have to carry it out. Who the hell gets water from Hobby Lobby anyway?


    Back to the topic at hand: it had been half a year since I worked out at a gym. The reason I stopped going last year was because I had a terrible sickness¡­well, I had the flu. Still not something that I wanted to be taking to the gym. The flu stuck around for about a week or so, but my hiatus from the gym would last much longer. Mostly from me beginning to plan to move out of my parents'' place around that time. With that on my mind, there were days back then were I would forget about going to the gym. Complacency kicked in, and I stopped going. The only time I get any inspiration, other than now or whenever I see a woman beautiful enough that I¡¯d change my life for, is when I look down and see my stomach while sitting. It¡¯s a fact that a stomach looks like that no matter what, unless if you trained like an NFL player. Even then, you¡¯d have a bit of gut showing no matter what. It was something that bothered me since it made me feel more out of shape than I actually probably was. Maybe I have body dysmorphia. That¡¯s how that works, right?


    Now, the main issue with going to the gym, other than getting the motivation to go, was what I would be doing when I got there. I needed a gameplan if I was going to actually do this. Doing a half-assed and unprepared workout only ended up with wasted time and no results. That was fine when I was a teenager doing the same inefficient body-weight exercises without ever pushing myself beyond my perceived limits, but as a man with a full-time job, it was unacceptable to waste that much of the day.


    Getting into the meat and potatoes of my plan, there were at least three things I needed to get into order: The first was that I needed first to know what my goals were when I went to the gym. The gym I had a membership to wasn¡¯t one of those that were frequented by only meatheads and similar characters. You probably knew my gym by the fact that it was one of the cheapest in the country, and the fact that it often got made fun of (somewhat rightfully) for having something as corny as a ¡®LUNK ALARM¡¯. I¡¯ve only seen it used as a way to tell gym-goers that the gym was going to close in a few minutes. The Sypro-esque interior design left much to the imagination as well. Despite all of that, it was still a good gym to go to. Don¡¯t get it twisted, there were, and still are, fucking jacked men that go to Planet Fitness, on the regular. I would recognize them when I went more regularly. Even if it was the gym for wimps, it still had more than enough equipment to maintain your physique. It was probably a better gym if your goals were stuff like ¡®work on glutes¡¯ or ¡®lose fifty pounds¡¯, but stuff like that didn¡¯t matter to me at all.


    My goals¡­well, I didn¡¯t really have a goal in mind. That¡¯s the main reason why I don¡¯t go to the gym now. It¡¯s not like I think I look ugly or anything. I¡¯m not moved by goals of lifting a certain amount of weight. I never have had a ¡®target weight¡¯ I wanted to reach. When I lifted weights, I merely did it to see how much I could do. It was like a game to me. And when I got bored of it, I stopped playing. The main question in mind is if I can regain that fire. That is yet to be seen. The fact that I¡¯m thinking this deep about it means that something is building up. Lifting for Juliet? Let¡¯s not get too excited. If I¡¯m lifting for a woman, I¡¯d rather it be for someone I actually have a chance with. Plus lifting for one is dumb anyway. It was a misnomer that women loved built men. A lot of them did, but also a lot of them found muscle men disgusting and would prefer a stringbean. Either way men would be the ones complimenting you on how ¡®big¡¯ you were most of the time.


    The second thing in mind was the time. When it came down to it, I had the time to workout. I had no excuse, especially since my gym had a location within two minutes of my work. I would only have reason to not go if I had a hard day at work. Which to be quite honest, I haven¡¯t had lately. Maybe one day a week I had a moment when I had to use my muscles (what I had of them). Other than that, nothing too difficult.


    There was always the option of going to the gym before work, but I never cared for it. I did it a few times, and each time I never took an optimal shower. I always forget something¡­as long as it¡¯s not the towel, then I¡¯m okay. I preferred going after work. Unless if I had somewhere to go immediately afterward, I never took a shower there after working out. Those showers were not nearly as important, as those were almost always the second showers of the day. If I wasn¡¯t going out somewhere¨Cwhich was 98% of the time¨CI would wait until I got back home to take a shower. It was faster and more comfortable that way. I could definitely do that now since I had a bathroom all to myself.


    You may be thinking ¡°Why don¡¯t you go on your days off?¡±. Well, to be honest, if it was closer to home, then I would think about going, but the fact of the matter is that I¡¯m not driving twenty minutes to go to the gym. That¡¯s absurd. If I¡¯m already in town for other reasons, like work, then it makes sense to drop by. But otherwise, I¡¯m not driving that far.


    The third thing was nutrition. When it came down to it, it wouldn¡¯t matter if I went to the gym if I stuffed myself with only empty calories afterward. I¡¯m not going to go as far as meal prep or buy bulk sizes of chicken breasts to grill, but I did need to watch what I ate to an extent. Also, I needed to buy fresh supplements. The ones I gave in the kitchen are most likely getting moldy by now.


    There were four things in mind when I went shopping for gym supplements. First was protein powder. Of course, it had to be protein powder. It was the best way to intake protein. Combined with milk, it almost never got old. As long as you had a good bottle to shake your shake in and a good flavor powder, it would taste at least decent. To me it did. A lot of people I knew used water instead of milk for their shakes. I knew milk wasn¡¯t for everybody, but mixing protein powder with water felt like mixing it with cocoa powder¨Cit felt incomplete. It tasted like breakroom coffee. I would rather buy one rather than make my own mixed with water.


    When it came to protein shake flavors, I often rotated them each time I bought a new jar. Even the best of flavors eventually got tiresome after a while if you had it every day. When I was working out, I would rotate from chocolate to vanilla to strawberry, and keep going on in roughly that same order. There were other flavors out there, but all of the time they were more expensive than the regular ones. I like Froot Loops, but I¡¯m not paying an upcharge for protein powder that smells like it. It may not matter that much in the world of protein bars or protein shakes, but in the protein powder world, that can be a ten-dollar difference.


    When it came to brands, I usually went for name brands. The store-brand protein powder tasted like ass nine times out of ten. I¡¯m willing to pay a few dollars extra for something I can actually get through drinking.


    The second thing was protein bars. When it came to a cost-efficiency standpoint, ¡¯homemade¡¯ protein shakes were miles better than protein bars. The only reason I bought them was for the enjoyment of eating them. Some of them were quite actually good. One of the good things about protein bars is that there¡¯s a revolving door of brands, which means there¡¯s always something new for you to try. Good flavors eventually get old if you keep having them every time, so it¡¯s good to branch out a little. Bulk buying makes this rather difficult for me to do for protein powder¨Cvariation in protein shakes was rather limited in comparison to bars as well.


    When it came to protein bars, there were an endless amount of flavors to choose from. Reading off from a store website, I have: Galactic Brownie, Chocolate Peanut Butter, Lemoncake, Chocolate Mint Cookie, Cookies & Cream, Smores, Caramel, Caramel Churro, White Chocolate Raspberry, Snickers, Peanut Butter Fudge, Maple Glazed Doughnut, French Vanilla Cream, Coconut Puff, Cinnamon Roll. The list goes on, but you get the point. There¡¯s an abundance of protein bar choices out there to choose from. Nothing like protein powder.


    One newish development in the protein bar game was the existence of products such as protein chips and protein pretzels. ¡®Protein snacks¡¯ had their own section at grocery stores now. I tried some of the protein chips right when I first saw them a year or two ago while shopping¨Cthey were not good at all. Especially for their price point. A small bag of protein chips was almost three dollars after tax. For that price, you¡¯re better off getting a protein bar. It might actually taste good! As for the other treats of the protein snack world, I have not tried them. The most legitimate products in there look like the protein cookies. I only say that because they¡¯re the products that have been there the longest. In my humble opinion, ¡®protein snacks¡¯ will eventually go out of style since all it retains from regular snacks is the shape and form. A protein chip tastes like school lunch. A regular chip tastes good. That¡¯s why people buy them. It¡¯s hard to trick yourself into eating something if it tastes like shit, especially if it costs twice as much as the thing it¡¯s imitating which tastes, you know, good. It screams of Silicon Valley vulture capitalist trying to find a solution to a problem that doesn¡¯t exist.


    The third thing was creatine. This, unlike the two above, was a much more boring supplement. Its only purpose was to help retain water in my muscles. This would also need to be bought way less than powder/shakes/bars/etc. Because only less than a spoonful is needed in a small glass of water. I usually drink it in the morning. Creatine helped me recover from exercising faster and improve proformance in the gym. The latter is questionable, but the former definitely held true. Helpful or not, it also increased how big my muscles looked, which was cool.


    The fourth thing was the newest edition¨Celectrolyte drink mixes. Liquid I.V. and all of that. Mainly Liquid I.V., since the other brands either tasted too salty or weren¡¯t as effective. I had only discovered them last year. While I had used flavored drink mixes before, I typically didn¡¯t use them. I liked the taste of water on its own, so I never had the desire to use drink mixes other than if I had gotten them for free. They had no benefits other than making our water change color. Electrolyte drink mixes, on the other hand, had a particular benefit in mind¨Ckeeping you hydrated. To be honest, I already had some of this lying around in a cabinet in the kitchen. I bought them for work, since it¡¯s mobile and all of that¡­anyways, all I need to do is to make sure I keep them in stock, and that I start using them more, even if plans fall through and I don¡¯t start working out again.


    Any other purchase would be only situational¡ªI typically never bought any pre-workout supplements, since I found them not at all useful. Each time I bought some and used it, the only thing that happened was that I was more ¡®wired¡¯. My ¡®performance¡¯ never increased to my knowledge, and it made me feel like I was tweaking. Felt like I had ants crawling on my face. Google told me it¡¯s because of the BCAAs in them. Not a good feeling, especially when I¡¯m trying to focus on finishing a set. In my opinion, pre-workout was better used as an energy booster. The amount of caffeine one scoop contains could start your car¡ª300+ milligrams! Red Bull only has around 100 milligrams of caffeine per can. It could kill you if you consume multiple scoops.


    Above all, I needed to keep in mind that it wouldn¡¯t matter what supplements I bought if I didn¡¯t workout efficiently. It wouldn¡¯t matter either if I didn¡¯t eat and drink properly as well. This wouldn¡¯t be a huge problem for me, since I already ate a somewhat balanced diet. The worst thing about my diet is that some days I ate cereal for two meals. Other than that, and the fact that I didn¡¯t eat enough greens, my diet was okay enough¡­thinking about it more, my relatively young age could be helping me out a bit on this. I have a fast metabolism, which means what comes in comes out faster than most people. There was probably only a few years until I had to start paying attention to my diet more.


    Moving back to the gym¡ªanother issue right now, other than lack of motivation or lack of a game plan, was that the gym was twenty minutes away from me. That was the caveat of it being ¡®close to work¡¯. Driving that far to workout seemed irresponsible to me. That would be forty minutes spent driving to workout for an hour. Would be even worse if I did cardio solely.


    With that in mind, I thought of what I could do at home. There was that old ass treadmill in one of Michael¡¯s other rooms. The same one with the PS5. That thing sounded like a washing machine when it was turned on, so it was automatically a no-go. It had to be about thirty years old. It only went up to about four miles per hour anyways, so nothing more could be done on it than a light jog, if even that. It wasn¡¯t his, so I can only presume that Miss Landlord left it behind.


    The road outside was an outside choice to go on a run on. There weren¡¯t many people that drove on the road, which meant that the risk of being hit by a vehicle was next to none. The vehicles on the road went a max of twenty-five miles per hour anyways¡ªplenty of time to get out of the way. It was an outside choice because of it technically being a public road. It also wasn¡¯t the best-maintained road in the world. It was heavily uneven and went in a straight line, which meant that I would have to turn around every quarter mile. I would also have to hope that I don¡¯t step into a pothole. The sad part is that it was the only place around where I could go on a run or a jog without getting potentially splattered across the pavement. The roads are too dangerous for my liking to walk on. Jogging¡¯s never been my style anyway. At least not outside.


    The only thing that saved me from having to seriously consider running on the road was that I also had a jump rope on the drawer adjacent to my TV. I could jump rope outside. When it comes to cardio, jump roping is quite possibly the best exercise time-wise. It does seem a bit silly to do, since jump roping is something you imagine kids doing, but there¡¯s a reason why boxers and other athletes do it. It¡¯s tiring as hell. If you aren¡¯t careful, your shins and calves will be sore for the next week. Trust me.


    Our driveway outside was a good enough place to jump rope. I know it¡¯s better to do it on something like a wooden surface, but I don¡¯t really care to jump on the back deck a thousand times. It isn¡¯t built with the newest wood and I¡¯d rather not have to have a reason for The Landlord to have an extended visit. So asphalt it is.


    I was lying on my bed thinking all of this through. It was currently around 11 AM. I had a day off and had an uncontrollable urge to do something. Something else rather than sit in the house all day or decompose in bed. Usually, I spend up to twelve hours in bed on a day off. As I¡¯ve gotten ¡®older¡¯, I¡¯m less likely to spring up at random¡­there are times where I¡¯m fully rested after only five or six hours of sleep, but those occasions are becoming rarer and rarer. More than often now, I find myself oversleeping. Waking up tired after thinking ¡®hey, I can go back to bed¨CI have nothing to do today!¡¯. It¡¯s hard to help it, since laying down is the most comfortable position out there. Even more comfortable than sitting.


    Laying in bed, I looked over to the other side of my room and eyed the jump rope that had been sitting there still for probably the whole year at this point. I wasn¡¯t quite sure since this bedroom¨Cthe ¡®Master Bedroom¡¯ even though Michael pays three times what I pay in rent¨Cwas quite huge. Felt like you could get a first down rushing from one end to the other¨Cfor real though, it was like twenty feet from my head laying on a pillow to the 52-inch television on the other end. Somehow it was slightly too small for me to watch television, which was why I usually watched TV in the living room. It was a shame because other than the bed, the bedside counter, the TV, the huge ass dresser that held the TV and other stuff that The Landlord left behind (Apparently the dresser cost thousands of dollars because it was real wood. Bought years before she hit it big in the lottery. She seemed proud of it when she was talking to me about it during the home tour, but not proud enough of it to move it with her. Don¡¯t blame her, the thing looks like it weighs two tons and would probably be a nightmare to ship to wherever in Hawaii her new house is.), and various things I¡¯ve had lying around. If I had the resources to procure it, I could have a killer racing sim setup in there. I had half of it, but¡­I should really drop the issue. It¡¯s been about a month since that incident.


    Getting up, I walked to the other end of the room and grabbed the jump rope. As I expected, there was a layer of dust on it. Blowing on it only seemed to remove around half of it. Still enough to make me sneeze.


    After going to my restroom to grab a paper towel to wipe off the jump rope, I laid it on my bed and went to my closet.


    Theoretically, I already had the top on I was going to wear while jumping rope. It was a basic white tee. From Ralph Lauren mind you, but still a basic white tee, which was more than good enough for a home workout. Wearing pajama pants was less viable. I was in here to find some athletic shorts.


    I had my athletic shorts located in either the third or fourth drawer down in the main cabinet. I changed them out only once a week, so I tended to forget where they were.


    After opening up both drawers (it was the third drawer), I grabbed the first pair of athletic shorts I found. The ones I grabbed were silky. Almost like basketball shorts, but thankfully not going over my knees when put on. Taking my pajama pants off and the shorts on took no time.


    I left before remembering that I was forgetting one thing¨Csocks. I went back to my bed and grabbed the ones I wore yesterday. They were on top of the clothes pile that was almost big enough to be thrown in a washer.


    With my jump rope in hand, and yesterday¡¯s socks on my feet, I walked out to the kitchen to grab a bottle. Not like the one I took to work, but one smaller than that. I wasn¡¯t going to be outside for that long. Not longer than thirty minutes, if that, so there was no need for anything more than 16 ounces.


    There were many small bottles stuffed in one corner of the pantry. Not mine, and not Michael¡¯s, since they were mostly plastered with logos of places local. I grabbed one that had ¡®OCONEE MEMORIAL HOSPITAL¡¯ on it. It would be dumb to think that The Landlord didn¡¯t wash these before she last used them, but at the same time, this bottle looked like it hadn¡¯t been used in a decade. A sheet of dust coated the the entirety of the exterior, which had to be washed before used.


    Washing the bottle in the sink for a few seconds, I then dried both exterior and interior with a paper towel.


    Shaking excess water drops from the bottle into the sink, I then opened the cabinet closest to it and grabbed a Liquid IV packet. Either the powder or the water could come first¨Cthis time I chose the powder since I already had it in hand.


    While getting water from the sink would be faster, I walked a few steps to the refrigerator, where the water was filtered, and more importantly, colder. Twenty seconds later, I was done filling it up. All I had to do was shake it now.


    Remembering to tighten the bottle before shaking (I¡¯ve forgotten to and made a mess several times), I successfully didn¡¯t spill any water on the kitchen floor. Jean would be proud of me¨Cor at least be glad that I didn¡¯t make her floor dirty. If there¡¯s a dirty spot, she¡¯ll find it, and she¡¯ll clean everything until she¡¯s satisfied, all while bitching to you about you not doing it. I think she enjoys cleaning, but also was annoyed at our (in her eyes) slavishness. You¡¯d think she¡¯d hire someone to clean the place if she cared that much.


    Getting back on topic, I put the bottle down on the kitchen counter and began walking back to my room. I had forgotten one thing¨Cmy headphones.


    There were many people I knew now. At work mostly, but out in public generally, that have wireless earbuds in. I imagine most of them have AirPods. I never cared to get them, because I never cared for wireless airpods anyway. Back when I was wearing the ten-dollar knockoff earbuds years ago, I was afraid they were going to fall off the whole time.


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    At work, I had to split the difference and wear wired earphones at work. One ear in (usually the right), tucked under my work vest and into my pocket. To be quite honest, it wasn¡¯t the best setup. While I didn¡¯t care that much about looking antiquated, I did care about the mobility of my neck. The friction of the wire between two layers of fabric leads to it getting ¡®stuck¡¯ in place. It¡¯s an experience most people have had if they¡¯ve worn wired earphones in between a shirt and a jacket. I had to deal with it since the alternative was wireless earbuds.


    As it was, I only wore earphones when I was in the back at work. Whenever I was busy boxing items up and getting them shipped out, I was able to have both earphones in. I was supposed to only have one in, but no one bothered to tell me to take one out¨Cgoes to show you what you can get away with when you do your job.


    On the floor, I found it rather cumbersome to have an earphone in while working¨Chaving to take it off when assisting a customer because it¡¯s difficult (and may seem quite rude) to pull out a phone only to pause it is rather irritating. The earbuds that came with my iPhone did have buttons on the wire to do that, but it¡¯s hard to locate them when they¡¯re in between two layers of clothing. There was also the neck-mobility issue. Overall, it felt ¡®wrong¡¯ to walk around work with one wired earphone in. Makes me wish I had wireless earbuds worth a damn.


    Unlike with wireless earbuds, I was content with paying a lot for my wireless headphones¨Cthey won¡¯t ever fall out of your ears like earphones! They blocked out a lot more noise, and had better audio quality than the earbuds that Apple gave you. Also didn¡¯t short out like the Apple earphones sometimes did if you sweated too much into them¨Cthat was the main reason why I invested in wireless headphones in the first place. In my two years of having them, they¡¯ve never let me down.


    Enough mulling around. Time to go outside.


    <hr>


    On the driveway, I started doing some basic warmups to prepare my body for the deceptively intensive exercise that was jump roping. As a cardio exercise, it was the best bang for your buck calorically. I didn¡¯t have the numbers with me, but it burned as many calories in fifteen minutes as cycling for an hour would. Only rowing came close to it when it came to burning calories. There¡¯s a reason why you always see boxers jumping rope when training!


    Using the aging carport to steady myself, I swung both my legs back and forth in a set of ten, first my right then my left. This was my ¡®favorite¡¯ warmup to do, since it was the one with the most immediate effect. Often, I did it at work as well if my legs were feeling sore. It was a great way to generate blood flow.


    After that, I did some other non-descript swinging motions with my arms¨Cto be quite honest, I had no idea if this was an effective warmup method. I was going through the motions, literally. Doing about thirty seconds of jumping jacks to finish my warmup, I was ready to jump rope.


    There was an app that I used to time myself when jumping rope. It was called ¡®Interval Timer¡¯¡ªpretty straight to the point on what it did. Of course, as with most apps, there was a ¡®Premium¡¯ feature, which would bypass all the ads and unlock ¡®extra features¡¯ for a simple cost of ten dollars a year. Ten dollars I wasn¡¯t going to spend, because why the fuck would I? Everything I wanted to do with it was free, and the only ads that played were the ones that played once the timer ended. Needless to say, it was pointless to spend the ten dollar fee¡ªI would rather use one on my phone browser at that point.


    Funnily enough, ¡®Interval Trainer¡¯ was the only app that let me set up multiple programs without badgering for money, which was why I dealt with it in the first place. Since I haven¡¯t used it recently, I had to update it before it opened.


    Since stopwatch apps don¡¯t have a lot to them data-wise, it took only about four seconds for it to update¡ªit took longer to find where the icon was on my phone screen!


    Opening the app, I was instantly taken to the menu where all of my past ¡®routines¡¯ were. Looking at it, it turns out that I used it for slightly more than originally thought. Looking at it, I had timers set up named: jump rope 1, jump rope 2, jump rope 15 min, rope pull, rope pull (same as last timer but two minutes longer), plank, side plank, treadmill, and ¡®Simple timer¡¯.


    I had little idea what difference between the three jump rope options, other than the fact that one was fifteen minutes long and the others were around twenty-five minutes long. Wanting to not do too much on my ¡®first time¡¯, I clicked on ¡®jump rope 15 min¡¯.


    Forgotten to me, ¡®jump rope 15 min¡¯ wasn¡¯t shorter than the other because it was less intense¨Cit was shorter because it was more intense. It had to be my idea of a HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) exercise, since (after thirty seconds of ¡®warm up¡¯) there were twenty sets of twelve seconds of ¡®high intensity¡¯ and thirty-two seconds of ¡®low intensity¡¯. I had probably set the timer amounts of high and low based on it amounting to fifteen minutes exact¨Ctoo bad it still sat at fifteen minutes, ten seconds¨Cguess I never thought or cared enough to shorten the warm up timer by ten seconds.


    It was about set two when I realized what was going on¨Cthe dings to go hard seemed to last too short and the dings that told you to rest went on way too long. I wasn¡¯t looking to go high-intensity for my first jump roping in a long time, so I had to call an audible.


    After thinking about it for a few seconds, I came up with this: use the thirty or so seconds from the cooldown to do some light jump roping, and use the twelve seconds that were supposed to be used to go all out for my cooldowns. The opposite of how past me intended to use it, but it would have to be that way for now. I would start when the warm up timer started, so right when I started it.


    With that in mind, I went ahead and got started with my jump roping.


    <hr>


    Fast forward fifteen minutes and ten seconds¨Cwhat felt like an eternity to me to be quite honest. What I thought was ¡®light jump roping¡¯ was as intense as what regular jump roping would be.


    Due to the rope moving slower, I had to bounce once in between hops in order to keep my rhythm. If I didn¡¯t do it, then I found it was difficult to time the jumps good.


    For the first three or so minutes, I had no trouble. I had timed my jumps wrong once or twice, but other than that, it was smooth sailing. It was so smooth that I found myself getting cocky and increasing my pace. In my defense, I was trying to work up a sweat, and until this point, I had not perspired at all.


    From minute four or so on, I was increasingly in hell. While I did try to push myself, my mistakes make it impossible for me to jump rope any other way than slow. It was hard to get a sip of water in between reps¨Cwhen I finished, I immediately gulped down the rest of the bottle.


    In some of the last sets, I was in so poor form that about half of my reps were failed, leading me to look like a drunkard. Frustrating in one way, but at least I knew I was getting a workout.


    I was stretching my leg muscles out¨Cthey were going to hurt tomorrow, no doubt about it. The even worse part was that they would hurt even more the day after that. Doing proper stretches would significantly lessen the soreness of my calf muscles, which were the main victims of me stomping my feet into concrete for fifteen minutes straight. It was recommended to jump rope on a lighter surface, but I hated the idea of jumping rope on grass, and as you already knew, the back porch was too risky to attempt to jump on.


    I was told some time ago that thirty seconds is the minimum proper time needed to complete a stretch. Now, I would be a liar if I said I always stuck to that principle, but the way I see it, it¡¯s good to stretch in the first place. Doing it properly just increases the rewards.


    After a few minutes of stretching, I trundled back inside. Parched, I took my water bottle, filled it up with sink water, and gulped down two cups worth of it. It took twenty seconds to complete the task¨Cif I had gone towards the better-filtered water from the fridge, the task would¡¯ve taken a whole minute, which might as well be an eternity to a sweaty mess such as myself.


    With two cups of water in me, I was rehydrated and ready to hop in the shower. I placed the bottle in the sink to wash later. The jump rope was placed on the kitchen counter as a reflex. I would grab it, but not now. There was no one to bitch at me about it being there, so I could take put it back at my discretion.


    <hr>


    Man, I¡¯m really going through my teabags¡­


    I was back in the kitchen for what seemed like the tenth time today to get some tea. I usually drank a lot of tea, but this much? I don¡¯t know what was with me today.


    If there was a reason, it was because I was worried for my genmates. They were having a live concert later tonight. It was about noon and I had been up since 4 AM. My sleep schedule is messed up. You know how it is when you never leave your room and all of that.


    Since Violet, Ora, Kotori, and the others were all at the American corporate headquarters in LA, they would not have to worry a bit about how the stream looked. This concert was being streamed on the AnyClover EN official channel in about¡­uh, six hours from now? Sorry, I forgot the start time.


    This night was very big for not only the girls and AnyClover¡ªit was also big for the fans. Even mine, to a degree. I wasn¡¯t streaming any today and already planned on live tweeting the entire concert, so anything coming from my mouth would be about that one thing.


    Grabbing another black tea bag, I placed my cup under the coffee maker and started the ¡®Hot Water¡¯ mode. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve drank a single cup of coffee from this coffee machine since I¡¯ve moved here. We¡¯ve had coffee the whole time¨Cthere was an assortment of pods organized next to where I put my tea stuff at. I remember The Landlord sounding slightly dejected when she saw that I hadn''t touched any of it¡­almost made me feel bad. I think internally she was glad that I didn¡¯t mess up the tidiness of her setup. She seems to be really OCD about that type of stuff.


    Filling my cup up, I thought about the sacrifices the girls made to be able to perform tonight¡­well, to be perfectly honest, the only thing they lost was a lot of time. HOWEVER, they spent many weeks and months practicing singing, dancing, and in general preparing for tonight¡¯s event.


    Compared to me, I was doing nothing. Living a sedentary lifestyle and living the dream of being paid to play video games.


    Don¡¯t get it wrong¡ªI loved what I did for a living, but I would be lying if it didn¡¯t get a bit stale at times. Most days were the same: streaming, doing work related to future streams or merchandise, recording for voice packs, talking with my mane-san, playing games off-stream, watching anime, and so on. The commonality with all of these was that they could be completed on my computer. I don¡¯t move around very much. I¡¯m still skinny, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m unhealthy.


    What I was trying to say was that I needed to start working out.


    I had my Wii Fit gear in a closet, but I wasn¡¯t talking about using that¡ªunless if it was on stream. That would require me to find my Wii as well, which I didn¡¯t want to do at the moment.


    Turning to my left, I glanced at the sink. Fuck, I forgot to wash out my cup before refilling it. A rookie mistake¨Cone that I do often admittedly. At least I threw my tea bag away before putting a new one in. That mistake was only made once a week.


    In the sink was a beat-up clear water bottle with the word ¡®HOSPITAL¡¯ on the side. There were multiple bottles in the kitchen cabinets that came from a hospital close from here. It was simply lying there like it hadn¡¯t been used yet. Beside it was what looked like a jump rope, which had one end dipping down into the sink. John wasn¡¯t anywhere in sight, but this was his mess. I had no idea what he had planned, but it was none of my business, so I turned away¡­then I turned back.


    Jumping rope¡­now that could be a good exercise. If my roommate was doing it, then it had to have some benefits. My roomie often did things that he thought of as ¡®the most efficient¡¯. He said that he¡¯s ¡®utilitarian¡¯, which I assume meant the same thing.


    Curious, I sat down my tea and picked up the jump rope.


    At the endS it still felt warm, which implied that it was just used, not about to be used. That was all I needed to know to take it.


    With my tea in one hand and rope in the other, it was time to slide some shoes on and go outside and jump rope. I had a T-shirt and inside shorts on, so there wasn¡¯t a need to change.


    <hr>


    The ¡®wash off¡¯ turned into my regular shower¡­well, because it made sense. It was my first shower of the day after all.


    For my showers, wash-off or regular, I tried to approach it by first starting out hot, then ending cold. Like how James Bond washed off. It was a good way to get the benefits of a cold shower without torturing yourself. At least the first few minutes of the shower feels good.


    Getting out of the shower, I noticed that there was a faint repeating thud sound that was coming from outside. Not quite exactly a door knock, because it went on for about thirty seconds. If anything, it sounded like a hammer hitting a nail. Living out in these parts, you often have neighbors who built things on their day off. It sounded closer to me than most times I overheard building noises. I chalked it up to a frustrated carpenter letting out his anger. I mean, how many times do you need to hammer a nail?


    After drying myself off and brushing my hair with my hands a few times, I put on some clothes. Some simple day-off clothes, just like the ones that I sweated through a few minutes prior. As I put my shirt on, the thud sound started again, and it was louder this time. It stopped after about five seconds, but it was noticeable. It felt like it was coming from our house. It was distracting enough for me to instinctively walk into the kitchen.


    Upon entering the kitchen, I heard the thud sound once again, but only for about two seconds. It was not only much louder this time, but I was able to exactly pinpoint where it was coming from¨Cit looked like it was coming from the porch outside.


    Briskly walking to the back door, I opened it and saw Michael panting with my jump rope in his hand. He was almost doubled over at this point. I don¡¯t know what had happened, but he had decided to jump rope as well it seems.


    ¡°What the hell¡­¡±


    Michael was slow to respond, still trying to catch up on his breathing. Looking to the right, I noticed one of his tea cups on a shelf. Don¡¯t tell me he tried to hydrate with tea¡­


    ¡°I¡­I never knew that jump rope was so hard¡­¡± Michael was finally able to speak in full sentences after around twenty seconds of panting.


    ¡°Now you know¡­¡± now that he was talking, it was time to ask him what was really on my mind, ¡°did you jump on here the whole time?¡±


    ¡°On what?¡±


    ¡°Here.¡± Pointing down. I was wondering two things: Why the fuck was he doing jump rope on the back porch? Granted it was a ¡®safer¡¯ surface to jump on than concrete, but it was also way more likely to break underneath him. That was my fear anyway. My second question was how long had he been at it?


    ¡°A couple of minutes.¡± He walked towards his cup of tea and took a sip of it. It wasn¡¯t going to hydrate him, but maybe at least it was lukewarm.


    After he finished sipping, he continued, ¡°This is fucking exhausting.¡±


    Well, yeah, no shit. ¡°So how long did you go for?¡±


    ¡°About ten minutes. ¡± He was still breathing hard, but he wasn¡¯t panting anymore. He was wearing a white T-shirt and sweat shorts, which passed as workout wear¨Ceven though in reality it was his everyday wear.


    To be honest, I didn¡¯t want to be outside much longer. Not in this condition. I had just taken a shower, it would be bad if I started up a sweat immediately again. That and I had no plans on doing anything else outside today anyways.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go inside.¡± I wanted to be back in the air-conditioned world. I¡¯m sure Michael did as well.


    <hr>


    ¡°So, I was going well for a few minutes, but then suddenly it got very hard. I was suddenly sweating and gasping for air. I didn¡¯t want to take any breaks, but I found myself having to do so.¡±


    Michael and I were in the kitchen inside. I had poured him a glass of water in one of the green cups. He had gulped the first sixteen ounces as if he was a fish, and had gotten himself another round.


    ¡°By halfway in, I was finding it hard to go for more than a few seconds. I tried to push myself, but it was hard to jump rope correctly.¡±


    He was going hard. It didn¡¯t take much, considering his otherwise sedentary lifestyle. I¡¯m surprised he even went that far.


    ¡°So, how did you end up on the porch?¡± He still had not explained how he got there¡­


    ¡°I saw a car coming and got scared¡­¡±


    ¡°And you ran to the porch?¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah. I mean it¡¯s the only place that can¡¯t be spied on.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh.¡± He must have been panting hard at that point. Again, I¡¯m surprised he continued after getting scared off.


    ¡°The only thing that¡¯s bad about jumping on a wood deck is that it¡¯s way louder than I expected it to be.¡±


    The deck, which I could bet money on was built by Jean, wasn¡¯t the most stout back porch out there. She would tell you that much¡ªmany times she has mentioned that the wood was in ¡®poorer condition than advertised¡¯. There¡¯s also the fact that the deck isn¡¯t ¡®even¡¯, meaning that some boards are higher than others. I thought that was normal, but to Jean, it isn¡¯t, so it wasn¡¯t. Funny how that works.


    Another thing she kept talking about when on the deck was ¡®composite wood¡¯. Apparently, it¡¯s a wood-plastic hybrid that¡¯s much better than regular wood. She said that she has it ¡®back home¡¯. I¡¯m sure one day she¡¯ll decide to rebuild it, but I think she has the foresight to know that it would take a while for her to build it. For her sake, I hope she contracts a company to build it.


    That being said, for a porch that was DIY, it was impressive. It was way longer than needed, which made me wonder why she went that far. Not worth asking because I¡¯d get an answer and then some. The finish on it was wearing off, which I knew got on Jean¡¯s nerves as well. Structurally, it was sound enough to hang out on. Jumping on it? Well, that was a whole other question.


    ¡°Yeah¡­I wouldn¡¯t do that again if I were you.¡± The last thing we needed was for one of us to fall through the deck.


    ¡°Yeah, I won¡¯t be doing that again¡­jump roping on the deck¡­¡± Michael took a second, then continued, ¡°OR jump roping in general¡­¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Well, other than that you¡¯d have to steal mine to do it.


    ¡°Because it wore me out! I¡¯m drained of energy now!¡± He was wearing all black, but it was still noticible how drenched his shirt was.


    He had quite a workout, even if it was on the short side. He must have hated it. Which made it even more odd that he went to the point of jump roping on the porch. Personally, I would¡¯ve considered throwing in the towel there. Or consider that not many cars pass by our road. Maybe about five per hour. I partially understand why Michael ran away, since being seen jump roping is a bit embarrassing. It looks childish. It¡¯s a quite silly way to work out. But the thing is that it works. What Michael got confused with was the difficulty of it. Remembering as a kid, jump roping was taught in gym class for what seemed like an entire quarter. I was able to do some of the jump rope variations, but nothing close to being able to do every trick. I don¡¯t remember it being as difficult when I was young, but then again that was almost twenty years ago at that point so how would I know.


    Just when I was about to tell him to suck it up, I thought internally about the exercises I hate that were effective, like squats and deadlifts. It would be hypocritical to tell him to suck it up. There was also the chance he was being hyperbolic and just surprised by how gassed he is. I didn¡¯t know, since this was the first time I¡¯ve seen him work out.


    I decided to be a hypocrite. Somewhat. ¡°I mean, you can¡¯t deny that it¡¯s a good workout.¡± It was. Plain and simple. And unlike squats or deadlifts, the cons are much better.


    ¡°Yeah, I was somewhat kidding.¡±


    He didn¡¯t sound like he was kidding when he said that, but whatever.


    *CRASH*


    The sound, which came from the ice maker in the refrigerator, startled us both. It happened somewhat regularly, but it always caught me out when it happened. Must have caught Michael out too since he jumped as well.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m gonna go lay down.¡± I knew I had just gotten up a few hours ago, and also knew that sleeping after doing a cardio workout isn¡¯t effective. That being said, part of me didn¡¯t care. It wasn¡¯t like I had eaten a gigantic breakfast¡ªI hadn¡¯t eaten anything yet, thinking about it.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do as well.¡± Michael chimed. I sure hoped he washed off before doing that. While I was prone to falling asleep without brushing my teeth, going to bed feeling sweaty and dirty was a huge no-no. Would make me feel like I was sleeping in someone else¡¯s skin.


    With that, both of us started walking away. When I went to open the door to my office, I heard, ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t forget that Violet¡¯s concert tonight!¡± echoing from the hall leading to my roommate¡¯s quarters. Shit, I actually forgot about that.


    ¡°Right¡­you wash off as well!¡± Needed to get that in there. All I got in response was a quick laugh.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    He walked back into the kitchen, ¡°Oh, nothing.¡± As if were mocking me, ¡°It¡¯s just¨CI never thought I would be caught with your pants down.¡±


    At that moment I realized what he was chuckling about. Looking down at my undies, all I could mumble was ¡°God damn it.¡±

 Crush/I Love You So Much Its Killing Us Both

    How was I holding? Well, I was doing fine¡ªstill got my job and all. That night that I played Street Fighter 6 with Juliet and Violet was memorable since it properly introduced me to Juliet. Without ever ¡®meeting¡¯ her, I don¡¯t think I would go through the trouble of listening to her ASMR streams.


    That was a week ago¡ªnow, my infatuation with Juliet was waning. Yes, I still was quite possibly addicted to her voice, but I haven¡¯t talked to her since that night. My wanting to work out had hardly anything to do with her. Hell, I¡¯m talking about ASMR, but I haven¡¯t listened to any in a few nights. A pathetic excuse for a simpleton I am!


    To tell you the truth, the morning after with me reading while listening to her ASMR? That only lasted about ten minutes until I was distracted by the thought of the ¡®lost Elliott Sadler footage¡¯. It¡¯s probably the heaviest wreck in modern NASCAR that doesn¡¯t have an angle of it occurring. It was a huge crash, Sadler¡¯s car hitting the inside guardrail launching his car twenty feet into the air and bouncing it back onto the track¡ªat least that¡¯s what it looks like what happened. There¡¯s no way we¡¯ll ever know definitively since there¡¯s no good angles on it. The best we have are fan angles that are from a half mile away recorded on an iPhone 5. Some in the NASCAR community believe that NASCAR is intentionally hiding the footage, as if there was something there they didn¡¯t want us to see. Sadler¡¯s car flying up in the air too high, the way the engine tears away from the car, how violent it is, or a million other things they don¡¯t want us to see. I believe that there¡¯s nothing to hide. I mean, NASCAR has shown worse. All the TV cameras were already focused on Kurt Busch, who was crashing in front of Sadler. There¡¯s one camera where you can briefly see Sadler hit the guardrail, reinforced by the Earth, and bounce back at a force that¡¯ll make you wince. The result of the crash left Sadler¡¯s car in the middle of the track, with two wheels off and the engine a considerable distance away, among pounds of dirt littering Ponoco¡¯s upper-triangle portion, where turn two is. For those not in the know, Ponoco, the race track where this happened, is a triangle-shaped track¨Cneither here nor there, but it¡¯s a neat oddity. There¡¯s a good point made by the Elliott Sadler Crash Conspiracy people that NASCAR withheld onboard camera footage from other cars that could¡¯ve potentially had an angle on it. There¡¯s a good chance they were in a position where that wasn¡¯t possible. Maybe they were and NASCAR decided to hide that along with other footage not seen suited to air to the public. It really doesn¡¯t matter in the end, since Elliott Sadler was able to walk away from the crash and able to race the next week. I do, however, want to see the wreck. And the fact that it¡¯s the only wreck where there¡¯s no good footage does annoy me. Also, it¡¯s a silly conspiracy, which is the best kind of conspiracy.


    Well, anyways, watching that got me off of Juliet¡¯s ASMR video, and I didn¡¯t go back go watching it afterward. I got up and decided to hop on my computer for a bit. Do some goofing off on there before work. I forgot what I even did before going in. It was a boring day.


    I¡¯ve played only a little Street Fighter since then¡ªmy interest in that was also waning. It was fun, but it also had its issues. I haven¡¯t seen Juliet online too, so I couldn¡¯t play it cool and try to play some with her. I never added her on Discord too so all I have to go off of was what she said on Twitter and YouTube. Asking Violet about her would be a bit creepy as well. That¡¯s what I thought it would look like. There¡¯s also the factor that a lot of her job relies not on having suitors like myself successfully injecting themselves into her life. With Violet, it was different because she had no interest in me romantically and vice versa. With Juliet, I¡¯d be lying if I didn¡¯t have ulterior motives. Even if I didn¡¯t act on them, simply motioning to Violet that I wanted to play with her more could be crossing the line. If not worse, it could make Juliet feel uncomfortable, which was the last thing I wanted to do. The fact that I was thinking about it this deep would creep her out already. It probably wasn¡¯t that deep, but I wasn¡¯t going to push the envelope and potentially get her in trouble.


    As for today, I was chilling at work. You know, the usual. I¡¯m a lazy fuck, but days like this killed me. Time was slowing down as you read this. I¡¯m sure you understand what I¡¯m talking about if you¡¯ve ever worked in retail. I was counting down the hours until I could get the hell out of there. I mean, really, I wasn¡¯t doing anything here other than walking in circles. But I¡¯m paid to be there, whether I have something to do or not. They¡¯re paying for my time, not for my skill set. As if fulfillment was hard in the first place. As long as you could handle walking a lot you could do it. That was the condition. Some days you¡¯d have a lot of stuff to fulfill, but most days it was slim pickings. The old cashier women often chirp about how I ¡®ain¡¯t doin'' nothin¡¯¡¯ if I sit in the break room too much, which is funny considering their entire job is standing their asses (sitting in some cases!) in place. I don¡¯t wanna hear anything from them¡ªthe only people I¡¯ll accept it is from the janitor, who also often has quips like that. The difference is that: he¡¯s funny, and he does the hardest job in the store. Cleaning up after others is a job I¡¯d never want to have. I¡¯d get too mad at customers for behaving like animals and not putting trash in the trash can. It¡¯s incredible how messy some people are. Makes you wonder how they got this far. From what I¡¯ve seen they have someone who tolerates, or even enables, that sort of behavior. Picking up after adult toddlers that can¡¯t even find the time to flush the toilet after shitting in it, the only scarier thing being that there¡¯s no toilet paper in the shitter along with the shit, which definitely didn¡¯t come out of your ass clean. I didn¡¯t want to know how many pairs of underwear they went through in a year. Also, there¡¯s always pee on the floor, which while I can¡¯t say I¡¯m not above doing from time to time on accident, the fact that it¡¯s there and needs to be cleaned daily would piss me off. I could do what those old hens did better than they did it, but I would never want to clean up after others more than I already did.


    Out of site from any customers or managers, I checked YouTube to see what was up. Juliet was at the top¡ªthat was the norm ever since last week. It was like YouTube knew I wanted her. Even after deleting the ASMR streams, she was on there. Anyways, she was at the top and was streaming. As far as I could tell, she usually steamed late in the afternoon. It was around 5 PM, so it was a bit early for her, but I wasn¡¯t gonna complain. None of her fans were going to either.


    Tuning in, she was playing Minecraft. She often played Minecraft¡ªit was the second most popular type of stream behind the ASMR ones. Well, any stream she did was bound to be popular. She was a beacon of light. Most VTubers could be described as that, but she was the real deal in my opinion. It was hard to describe. I had no idea what she looked like, and wasn¡¯t going to try to dig that deep. All I had was her voice and her model. That being said, what really attracted me to her was how friendly she was. How easy to get along with she was. Not only that, but how genuine it felt. Watching her, she was the same as she was when I played with her. A cynic could say that she was putting out that front because she knew who her audience was¡ªlonely nerds. Mostly men, but women and anyone in between also were part of her fanbase. Juliet wasn¡¯t discriminatory. None of the corporate VTubers were¡ªthe whole point was to entertain, not to lecture. There was a smaller VTuber that I saw a clip of once that was parroting /pol/tard talking points¡ªnow THAT was pandering to an audience. Yes, women can be hateful. More than men in some cases! But conceiving your VTuber around being vaguely socially far-right and being ¡®based¡¯ comes off as ¡®I¡¯m not like the other tubers¡¯ to me. A pick-me-tuber, not a VTuber. Like she¡¯s trying to sell me something. In this case, the thing being sold is ¡°a VTuber that confirms your priors¡±. I know there¡¯s probably a score of far-left VTubers, but all of them are one thousand percent independent. They were probably as obnoxious as the other girl I was talking about as well. Their material analysis was probably dogshit as well¡ªmany leftists online were so purely based on ¡®vibes¡¯, never doing any reading other than posts and the occasional article. Their heart is in the right place, but they¡¯re unqualified to dissect modern society any further than ¡®shit¡¯s fucked¡¯ and ¡®crapitalism amirite?¡¯. No shit. That wasn¡¯t telling anything new, and it definitely wasn¡¯t separating you from any other ¡®analyst¡¯. You could hardly call that analyzing. A critique, yes, but a trite one a teenager could point out. I wasn¡¯t interested in that, just as I knew some far-right internet people saw through the ¡®alt-right VTuber¡¯ angle. Most of them probably thought it was gay. They said it, not me. I think others knew it was a bit of a sham but went along with it anyways, since the representation was all that mattered. Wasn¡¯t for me. I didn¡¯t need to have my beliefs reinforced for me¡ªI wouldn¡¯t believe in them if their premise was that flimsy. I could be proven wrong and there be a ¡®far-left VTuber¡¯ that doesn¡¯t sound like an idiot, but I wasn¡¯t going to look out for one because I quite honestly didn¡¯t care that much. I barely watched them in the first place! I could do the reading myself if I cared that much.


    ¡°You gonna work sometime today?¡±


    Oh shit! I¡¯ve been staring at my phone for about¡­two minutes now. That was Chester, the custodian of the store. He was going along with a broom, sweeping any potential dust that potentially was on the floor. I was taking the piss a bit¡ªhe was the guy that did clean up piss after all.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you tell I¡¯m hard at it!?¡±


    I had great respect for Chester since he was the one willing to clean up after others. Yes, he was getting paid to do it, but probably the same as I was. In a just world he¡¯d be making the most out of all of us.


    ¡°Yeah yeah, whatever you say¡­¡± He chuckled as he walked off continuing his duties. With his job, he always had something to do. Even when the restrooms were clean and the bins were empty. I¡¯d often see him sitting down in the break room taking a breather. He was an older man, so it was understandable that he couldn¡¯t walk around for eight hours straight. Anyone who complained about him taking an extended break could fuck off in my opinion.


    Back on my original train of thought¨CJuliet was playing Minecraft. From the gist of it, she was building on this stream. Me, I was more of a miner when I played Minecraft. I loved the idea of having the most diamonds out of anybody in the server. Plus it¡¯s easy to zone out and chill while doing it. When you¡¯re a teenager anyway. Now I found it a bit boring. I¡¯m a complete dimwit when it comes to building¨Ca wooden shack was the most creative I¡¯ve ever gotten. Of course, the shack would have a basement which had a tunnel that led to the bedrock. I¡¯m sure her doing a mining stream would be enjoyable as well, since anything she did on stream was enjoyable.


    I had no idea what she was building. Well, that was because I wasn¡¯t actively watching the screen, as I was technically at work, but still, it didn¡¯t seem like she was doing that much construction. It wasn¡¯t that strange when I thought about it. She was taking her time to talk with her chat, which I didn¡¯t really care for. They were the same as any other chat. Well, to be fair, they weren¡¯t that bad. They were tolerable. But I still wasn¡¯t there to hear from them¨CI was here to listen to Juliet. They all were as well, but I wasn¡¯t at liberty to try to get her attention like they were. Ho hum.


    By this point, I had put an earpod on and had her stream going while walking around the store. In a way, it kind of matched her vibe. The plants and decor that littered the store that is. Being Hobby Lobby, a lot of the merchandise either had a giant American flag, something Christian on it, or even occasionally had a vaguely right-wing message on it like a ¡®Thin Blue Line¡¯ wall decoration. Not my style, but if it plays it stays. Other than that, Hobby Lobby resembled a Michaels/Jo-Ann Fabric. A generally ¡®clean¡¯ feeling, like one you¡¯d feel at a new home¡­okay, I don¡¯t think this analogy is working well. The point was that her aura was alluring, and even without knowing that much about her I was attracted to the point where I saw her everywhere. She reminded me of home.


    Listening to her while strolling around the store, it was less distracting than I thought it would be. I had only one earpod in, as accepted by managers, so I could hear the outside world. Unfortunately, it overpowered Juliet¡¯s stream. It was a shame, but it was all I could do at the moment. I could turn her up, but then the situation would change to her overpowering anything around. Work wasn¡¯t the place to blow my ears out, albeit I really wanted to do it¨Cnot just because it was her, but because I could also tune out customers. But I didn¡¯t have that gall.


    The topics she was discussing were varying¡ªright now they were discussing music.


    ¡°Should I do a karaoke stream soon guys? It¡¯s been a while~¡±


    VTubers, great singers or not, often hosted streams where they performed karaoke, the genre of songs varying. With their general audience, songs from anime, games, and even from vocaloid were often popular choices. Of course they would also sing songs from the radio, sticking to contemporary mainstream pop, rock, hip-hop, and so on. Due to the nature of karaoke requiring the instrumentals of copyrighted songs, these streams were never saved on the VTuber¡¯s channel¡ªfans instead would unofficially archive it on their own channel. Some even went further into detail, splitting uploads by the song rather than by the stream. I think it was technically a no-no to do that, but as long as you kept it low key, it wasn¡¯t a problem. As it stood, I¡¯ve never heard her sing karaoke¡ªshe did have a few covers and original songs on her channel, however. That added to the ¡®idol¡¯ aspect of VTubing.


    I could envision chat clambering for her to do one as soon as possible, just as they would want her to do ASMR. I could imagine that karaoke streams were one of the best to witness live. Living in the moment with your oshi singing tunes that you all remember and love sounds like a good time. Yes, it was at its core watching someone sing on the Internet, but with the camaraderie VTuber communities had, you were never alone. Hell, I¡¯m sure that there have been live watch parties for karaoke streams¡ªthere are VTuber-oriented conventions that have started popping up around. Only a few, but that¡¯s a few more than there were a couple of years ago. Michael gets paid to ¡®appear¡¯ at some.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see if I can fit one in this week~.¡± Her slightly teasing tone suggested that it would happen sooner rather than later. I didn¡¯t have her schedule up, but it was almost certain that she had a few days open. While VTubers are busier than their sometimes light schedule would suggest, she should be able to squeeze in a karaoke stream one of those nights.


    As for me, I really did need to do something soon. I hadn¡¯t even looked at my Zebra device in like ten minutes¨CI should check it now¡­oh shit. Better get on that. I¡¯ll tune in again later if she¡¯s still online.


    <hr>


    [¡°[¡­]also! I¡¯ve been playing some Street Fighter 6! I played with Violet and Francis¡¯s roomie-san. It was quite a blast!¡±]


    Roommate. The fucking roommate.


    It was bad enough that she was obligated to talk to those pig-disgusting DudeTubers. I fucking hated them all since they were only around for the fujoshits to throw money at. Those bitches throw money at anything. They have no standard. No self-respect at all. Not that they deserve any respect since they all acted like rabid degenerates, which they were. Fujoshits were the worst.


    ¡°What the fuck, this motherfucker.¡± I was still in disbelief at what I was hearing. This scumbag was everywhere trying to ruin my life. First, he canoodles with Violet, trying to make her more of a whore than she already was. And NOW. NOW he¡¯s trying to defile Juliet¡­my lovely Juliet.


    I¡¯m not insane, but I know Juliet and I are meant for each other¡­okay, I knew that wasn¡¯t true, but it was my fantasy. So what if it was cringeworthy, it was nowhere near as bad as the wokies that label any character they like ¡®gay¡¯. Unfortunately, they were having their wish fulfilled more and more as the Cultural Marxist movement advanced worldwide. Either way, reality only got in the way of these freaks who littered the internet by the pallet. My fantasy, however, was rooted in reality. Juliet¡¯s voice was magical. It was what I imagined what heaven would sound like. Not to mention that her model had mega milkers and a similarly pale skin tone. Thankfully, all corpo VTubers had white skin¨Cthey haven¡¯t submitted to modernity to that extent. Thank god. As you could tell, I held Juliet in high esteem, something that¡¯s rare. Almost every woman, VTuber or real, disappointed me. The corpo VTuber sphere was the only sphere left in the West that had objectionably good morals. I doubt I¡¯d ever meet Juliet, but if I did, I would do whatever it took to make it work. It had to work. She was the most beautiful woman that had ever existed in my eyes. And unlike the various waifu I¡¯ve had in the past, she was the real deal.


    No, I haven¡¯t seen her in real life yet. I haven¡¯t even seen any leaked pictures of her online yet. There were websites that had that information. They posted about it on the Virtual YouTubers board as well sometimes. There were some VTubers whose identity was obvious. They used the same voice that they used in their past life. A retard could put two and two together. That only applied to a few VTubers in the corpo life. For most, their past life was kept secret from the public life. HOWEVER¡­if you¡¯re interested, which I am since I need to know, you can get the information from certain websites. Also from the VTuber board, but that usually gets taken down quick. There are Twitter accounts that dabble in it, but they¡¯re flooded by summerfags and phone posters. ESL miscreants as well. The best site is hosted by a guy that doesn¡¯t speak English, so the information from him is word salad, but you get all the first-hand information from the links, images, and videos. For Juliet, there is no real information about her real-life identity. She has had a past live as another VTuber, but ¡®she¡¯ had a similar motif. ¡®She¡¯ was as pure as she was now. No signs of a boyfriend, unlike so many other of these whore VTubers that had a boyfriend in the past, or have one now. Some rrats were bullshit, but more often than not they were true. If that¡¯s not sad enough, get this. There are cucks out there that watch whore VTubers that publically date men. Have them in their Twitter bio. Go on dates. God knows what else. How sad is that? Thankfully Juliet has no communication with those whores, even though she does have communication with other people that do have communication with men, which is dangerous, along with the corpo-whores. As far as I know, Juliet lives alone in an apartment by herself with her cat, Bubbles. They both are vegan. I usually hate vegans, but she doesn¡¯t talk about it that much, so it¡¯s okay. She¡¯s not like the other vegans. She¡¯s been Juliet Cromwell for about three years now. Before, she was an independent VTuber who did mostly ASMR streams. That¡¯s how I originally discovered her. I knew she was pure from the start, but I didn¡¯t start watching her a lot until she debuted as Juliet. Her past life account had like 50,000 subscribers, which is a lot considering she never whored herself out like so many other of these VTubers. Once she had a corporation like NijiLive, which even if they tolerated employing lying whores, she would have financial backing. If only they cut out the whores and only let pure women in.


    There were fewer and fewer pure VTubers out there in the corpo life. Most of them were never pure in the first place, but there has always been a special few. How can I tell? Digging into their past lives is the fastest method, but that info takes time to build up. Not every new corpo VTuber had such a public life before starting their new life. A shame, since it would be useful to find out if they were pure or a whore.


    As for my senses (no ¡®spidey sense¡¯ because Spider-Man and capeshit were for fags and normies), I could tell if a VTuber was a whore or pure from one stream. I knew Violet Bridgewater, who on the surface was purity to the extreme, was in fact a giant lying fucking whore. First off, whenever a VTuber talks about their ¡®brother¡¯, most of the time they¡¯re talking about their boyfriend. It¡¯s a classic trick out of the Whore VTuber playbook. Anytime she has a ¡®coughing fit¡¯ on steam and has to mute? That¡¯s her sucking her ¡®brothers¡¯ penis. It¡¯s obvious if you pay attention to her while muted. Just thinking about how many ¡®brothers¡¯ she has makes me shudder. Violet is a whore on that account alone, but what was even more galling was her repeated instances of having men in her stream because having them in her mouth wasn¡¯t enough for her. In particular, the roommate of Francis Fukuyama. Named after that liberal globalist. Globalism has imported a lot of degeneracy, but because of it I now have VTubers because of it. Anime too. It was only 99% bad. If it wasn¡¯t obvious by now, the DudeTuber was worse. All of them were bad. Nothing good would ever come from men entering the VTuber scene. They only serve to muddy up the water. It would be one thing to have them segregated from the VTubers. That way there¡¯s no way the VTubers can become whores. No streaming with men. No talking to men on Twitter, and if possible, no talking to men in real life. The only men they are allowed to talk to are management and fans they meet at events. That¡¯s not ideal, but it¡¯s a part of the business. They should not even mention men, unless fictional. ¡®Mane-san¡¯ is good enough. Vague enough. As for liking 2D men, I am currently torn. One the one hand, they aren¡¯t real. On the other hand, it¡¯s a slippery slope. I mean, there¡¯s always the danger that the character they like could have dark skin. They would be promoting miscegenation. It¡¯s a very slippery slope. Good thing almost every character in anime is white. Japanese, but still pale enough to create the perfect pure babies. If a VTuber gets a boyfriend, they should respect their fans and immediately graduate. If they lie about not having a boyfriend before becoming a VTuber, then their contract should be terminated immediately. No woman that has ever had a boyfriend should ever be allowed to be a VTuber. The fact that there are corporations out there that promote that behavior is sickening. While there are many NijiLive and AnyClover VTubers that have a boyfriend, none of them publicly advertise this. Both companies, thankfully being run by the Japanese, understand that mixing purities with impurities will only result in further impurities. Even if they willingly ignore the fact that many of their VTubers have boyfriends secretly, they at least don¡¯t advertise it as if it were a good thing. It was merely an externality of existing in the modern Western World. The pure ones tend to stay pure, and the whores whore out. Of course, I ignored the whores. Within those corps, there was no degeneracy disguised as ¡®progressivism¡¯. They haven¡¯t crossed that line yet, but this fucking roommate is trying to change that.


    Watching VTubers takes up most of my anime-watching time now, but there¡¯s still some good anime out there. Japan hasn¡¯t bowed down to the degenerate West yet, but it¡¯s starting to seep in. There¡¯s anime out there sponsored by Netflix. Disgusting. That being said, anime, manga, light novels, and doujinshi all had a built-in advantage¨Cthe women were 2D. 2D women are perfect in every way. You can mold them into what you want to see. You can¡¯t do that with 3D women. It¡¯s considered sexist and misogynistic. Hah! If 3D women weren¡¯t such whores, then there wouldn¡¯t be a need to change them. 2D women are much easier to change anyway since they don¡¯t exist. They can be as skinny or fat as you want. Could be a cutting board or have cowtits. Could be a christmas cake or a loli (who was 18 or 3000 years old). Hell, you could make them a whore if you wanted to for whatever reason. There is a deluge of weeaboos and Japanese otaku that love NTR. On sad panda, the most popular doujin had it. I admit, I have fapped to NTR doujin quite a bit. I know, I know, but you have to understand. Those doujin have the best quality 2D babes. The best drawn. The sexiest. They had Dat Ass. Mega Milk. You name it. Plus the whores usually get karmic justice in the end for being a whore. So you get to bust then get the moral of the story. My go doujin category was ¡®shota¡¯, which while being morally as questionable as NTR, I found comfort in self-inserting as the boy. Women, even whores, are nicer to boys than they are to men. Fantasy is fantasy, real is real. Fapping aside, the main reason¨CMY main reason¨Cwhy 2D was so much better than 3D, was because 2D women would never judge you for who you are. On top of being whores, 3D women are also often judgemental to a degree that makes you question who¡¯re the real sexists. There were no tsundere women in real life, unfortunately. Just mean bitchy whores. 2D women weren¡¯t all built equal. There were some I hated, like the bitch that humped the table in Code Geass. The difference, however, is that 2D women could always be changed, while a 3D woman would be that same bitchy whore until the day she reaps what she sows. I¡¯ve watched over a thousand anime series. While only a hundred of them could be described as ¡®good¡¯ plot-wise, most of them have at least one waifu in them. A waifu a day made laifu less gray. Many days spent inside my room were made meaningful once I saw a waifu on my computer screen. In fact, about twenty years of my life were spent approximately this way. But eventually, the luster starts to wear off. There are only so many waifu out there. The plural of waifu is waifu, by the way. Watching a thousand anime series, I¡¯ve started to notice similarities between series. That, with anime increasingly becoming a normie hobby, has drawn me away from it.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Who I am isn¡¯t important. By now, I recognize myself more by what I want to protect than by my physical form. My only joy in life at this point came from watching purity in action. Games haven¡¯t satisfied me in years. Visual novels are okay, but they didn¡¯t hit the spot like they used to fifteen years ago. Ever since the West has shitted up the market with their own visual novels, quality has decreased while quantity has gone up. The worst are the ones that are made tongue-in-cheek, with a hint of irony that infests so much shit made by Americans. Katawa Shoujo was a mistake, even if I liked it at the time. I don¡¯t play FPSes as none of them are good anymore. ASSFAGGOTS were never good. WoW took some of my time back when it came out, but I didn¡¯t care for MMOs now. FFXIV¡¯s community was too filled with whores and trannies for me to want to play. WoW was probably the same by now. My income was strained (a consequence of the way I live), so I rarely bought games, new or old. Torrenting is still the way to go.


    My income. Speaking about that. As someone who was on disability, my ¡®paycheck¡¯, if you can call it that, was small. I suffered from arthritis. From gaming too much. I managed to get accepted without trying that hard. COVID didn¡¯t change my routine¨Cthose checks were awesome. Someone like me who gets kicked around a lot doesn¡¯t get a lot of wins. Trump might be a whore-enabler, but he could be quite based at times too. Whores hated him, so he had to be doing something right. Before that, I was living off my grandparents, ¡®caretaking¡¯. They could take care of themselves. Their house was big enough for three, and my room fit a bed and a desk, which was all I needed. They would never go into my room. Lucky me, since I could have all my posters on my wall and my anime figures on shelves. They were less judgmental about my interests than my parents. Thankfully, they lived in an area that had fast internet pretty early on, which I convinced them to get. My grandfather invested a lot into stocks, so he had a lot of money saved up for retirement. He worked in a nuclear energy plant and made a fuckton of money. Not CEO money, but enough to afford a two-story house with a basement. He WAS a boomer, so that house wasn¡¯t expensive, which meant he had more money. He retired when he was sixty, which was around when I moved in with him and my grandmother. I feel conflicted about moving in after he retired. I could¡¯ve started a career at the nuclear plant and made a lot of money like him. Then, it would be very easy to find a pure girl to marry and make lots of white kids with. That being said, it was a lot easier for him than it would be for me. It¡¯s a whole different world out there. Sometimes conservatives point out how ¡®now¡¯ companies are too woke, but in fact, they were already twenty years ago. At least that¡¯s how the nuclear plant was. I never applied for a job there, but I¡¯m sure if I got one, I would hate it. Finding a pure girl to marry wasn¡¯t a process that would be done in a day. Or even in a week. There were only a few pure girls out there in a sea of whores. The issue of going out to meet women is that all of them are whores that only do that. The pure girls are doing something else. Meeting them could only be by chance, so it could take months to meet a pure enough girl. Years even. I could never handle working at that shithole for that long. It¡¯s nothing like it used to be. Watching anime and playing games was more appealing than working there in the first place. That, and I eventually bought into the ¡®3DPD¡¯ philosophy. These days I¡¯m not as adamant about sticking to only 2D women, but the culture back then made it hard for me to ever consider 3D. Again, those who think it¡¯s bad now should consider how bad it already was. Mainstream culture has always pushed for women to be impure whores that sleep with as many men as possible. It does in 2023, and it did in 2003. The only difference now is that women can also be queer while being whores. As if one wasn¡¯t already bad enough. And now men can become women now too. That¡¯s now an issue, even though trannies existed back then too. I don¡¯t like them because most of them are commies that encourage degeneracy, but they aren¡¯t as bad as whores or whore-enablers. They would be better if they weren¡¯t so political. In that climate, just as now, I could never find a woman who wasn¡¯t ruined by popular culture. Thankfully, there¡¯s a country in the Far East that understands that women have to be pure. Yes, glorious Japan. The first years of watching anime were the last time I had fun constantly. Getting home after school and watching Dragon Ball Z and Naruto. I¡¯m not into shounen anymore, but teenager me was really into those normie anime. Eventually, I learned how to torrent, which made watching anime a lot easier. Once I got my grandparents to get faster internet, it was easier to torrent and watch anime like Genshiken, Haruhi, and K-On!, which I consider to be a prime example of purity. Normies like it because the music is good and because the girls are cute. They¡¯re right on both counts, but that¡¯s not the point. K-On! is one of the best anime ever based on purity. Even if Sawako-sensei more than likely had a boyfriend in the past, I don¡¯t consider herself a whore. She is one of the reformers, only possible due to it being anime. Manga if we¡¯re being anal about it. There aren¡¯t many, if any, reformers in real life.


    Why? Why go through all of this? To exist is to be in pain. To exist without purpose is misery. I have gone to bed many days and spent all night awake without meaning. As a child, it didn¡¯t matter that there was no reason to live because I was still pure. Video games, anime¨Cthey were always there for me, even when nothing else was. Once elementary school turned into middle school, the bullying intensified and made my life hell. The bullying was typical. Making fun of my Pokemon card collection. By the end of elementary school, it was ¡®gay¡¯. Bullies could call me a ¡®boy liker¡¯ for playing card games, but I got into trouble for telling them to go to hell. Of my Dragon Ball Z-themed Hawaiian shirt. They wouldn¡¯t dare make fun of the black kids that liked DBZ, but I was free game because ¡®it was only considered anime when I watched it¡¯. I had my PSP taken from me in school once, only for it to be in my locker later with ¡®PSP = PANSY SUCKING PENIS¡¯ written in white paint on the back. It took me forever to get that off, only for bullies to take my DS a week later and hang it from the flagpole. When that came down, I saw that they wrote ¡®DS = DICK SUCKER¡¯ on the back of it, which caused it to be confiscated by the school. A day in the front office trying to explain that it was the bullies that wrote that, and not me advertising my so-called services. Those front-office ladies were nice, but borderline-retarded when it comes to anything technology-related. Fighting back was nearly impossible, since I always got in trouble AND I didn¡¯t want to risk getting beat up. While I was called a faggot and queer, I was never swirlied, and the one time I got wedgied, the bully got caught and got in trouble (for once). Pantsing was more common, although still not that common. I¡¯d take getting pantsed a hundred times before one wedgie. Both are embarrassing, but only one is painful. My life has been hell constantly, wavering from being ¡®meh¡¯, which is how life was between the early and late 2010s, to ¡®FUCK THIS GAY LIFE, I WANT TO DIE AND TAKE YOU WITH ME¡¯, which peaked in high school, and has been creeping back into my life in the last few years.


    I tried to deny that I ever needed a woman in my life for decades. From the early days of /a/ until around five years ago, I was convinced that there was no pure woman for me. The ones that were pure were either normalfags that had nothing in common with me or landwhales that I wouldn¡¯t touch with a ten-foot pole. In high school, I had tried to keep the faith. There was a girl, Molly, who was a grade up who was always nice to me when we talked. She was a normie, but her brother was autistic and was in the Anime Club, which I also attended. Before you ask, NO, i¡¯m not on the spectrum. Despite her normalfag-status, Molly was knowledgeable about many things that her little brother liked. She was very pretty too. Unfortunately, she had a boyfriend, so there was never a chance for us to go out. He was a jock that was on the football team, but he was nice the few times he was with her when they picked up her autistic brother. I wasn¡¯t set in my ways just yet¨Cshe would¡¯ve been an exception to me if she broke up with him. They dated all throughout high school, further proving how un-whorish Molly was. Either way, I don¡¯t think I would have ever had the guts to ask her out. I never asked a girl out. To this day. I still haven¡¯t. The girls that were in the Anime Club were all ugly. Most of them didn¡¯t have boyfriends and were pure out of sheer hideousness, while some of them were whores that fucked anything that walked. One of them even tried to get close to me. I only gained interest once she lost hers, then lost mine when I came to my senses. I was desperate back then. Once I was out of high school, my opportunities to talk to women decreased drastically. During the one semester at community college I attended, I only got a few chances. All the girls in my group assignments were whores or fugly. My grades were never that good¨Cstudying got in the way of anime and gaming. After that semester, I decided to call it quits, since there wasn¡¯t an obligation to go to school anymore. Community college was a fresh breath of air compared to public school. I wasn¡¯t bullied once. I even remember seeing other nerds hook up a GameCube to a TV in the cafeteria to hold impromptu Melee tournaments. They smelled like shit and had too many landwhales around for me ever to join. The flip side to that was that now  I wasn¡¯t the easiest to pick on. Especially on Fridays when they would take the CRT and play Smash.


    Where did my pain come from? Was it because I had been a shut-in shunned from society? Yes, that¡¯s painful, but that¡¯s a result of how rotten society is these days. I¡¯d rather stay in than go outside and get soiled. That pain, while being felt, was minor compared to the pain I felt when reminded of how promiscuity and whorishness was promoted. Not even for extreme whores and sluts, which you know are gonna whore and slut around anyways, but for crypto-whores as well. The ones that didn¡¯t know how much of a whore they were. They could¡¯ve been saved, but society further pushes them into temptation. Any socializing could turn into an opportunity to be a whore. Parties are the epicenter of this. They were meant for debauchery such as whoring around. Even birthday parties aren¡¯t safe if it¡¯s a party for someone my age. ¡®Hanging out¡¯ was a slippery slope with women. The tough part was that it had the potential to turn into a whore-off if it was all women hanging out, and it could turn into one of my hentai if it was one woman with many men. The plural of hentai is hentai, by the way. Even activities such as going to the movies had the potential to be purity-ruining. Going through the drive-thru, the man at the window could ask for her number and they could be having sex as soon as later that night. All it took was one random man to talk to a woman he was sitting next to at an opportune time, and it could go downhill. The fact that that could happen to women, especially ones that I liked always ate at me. In my youth, I struggled to come to terms with this. I even contemplated abandoning those principles in high school. Knowledge comes with experience. For most of the second part of my life, I hid behind the fact that 2D was always there for me. They still are. Will always be. But at the end of the day, those 2D waifu are only figments of your imagination. I considered getting a tulpa for a time. Reading stories of bronies that fucked up their tulpa scared me away from ever taking the idea seriously. While a waifu is much easier to imagine than a cartoon horse, there are still so many ways it can go wrong. Her eyes could be too big. Her boobs could be too small. She could have the voice of a drug-addict-whore. She could be continuously screaming at all times, like what happened to that one horsefucker. You can¡¯t get rid of your tulpa, which sounds good until you want to get rid of her. Plus it would take so much time for one to appear. The process could take months, much too long for a potentially disappointing result.


    In lieu of not getting a tulpa, I found something else. Rather, something else started to take off, effectively creating a new form of entertainment. Virtual YouTubing. It had been around for half a decade now. But at first, VTubers were hard to find¨Cthere were only a few out there. Mizuno Ai, who many consider the first VTuber, was really nothing more than a tech demo for future VTubers. She was a lot of fun, although we never got to see much of her in the end. The first streaming VTubers were Japanese. I needed subtitles to understand what they were saying. I loved listening and watching them, but I could never fully grasp what they were doing.


    English-speaking VTubers started appearing on YouTube in 2020. On 4chan, the discussion of VTubers until then was on /jp/. When English-speaking VTubers started taking off, it wasn¡¯t long until a new board was made specifically for them. Until 2020, I had only paid some attention to VTubers. While my love of anime was waning, I still haven¡¯t found the full glory that are VTubers yet. Translated clips from Japanese VTubers filled the heart, but my lack of moonrune skills led me to not being able to enjoy them live. With English VTubers, I wouldn¡¯t need to learn another language to be able to join in.


    From the start, I was hooked. Mizuno Ai was only slightly interesting to me, but being able to watch these girls stream every day was something else. More amazing was the fact that they sometimes played games I played as well! Or games I was interested in playing. Most important of all, they were pure. They were in the ¡®2.5D¡¯ category. There was a woman behind the model, but the model was all we saw. There was also a shitton of fanart of the VTubers, a lot of it high quality. Needless to say, I was in heaven.


    That was, until reality set in, and I started to realize that some of these VTubers were whores. In Japan, VTubers are forbidden from having boyfriends. The DudeTubers are usually forbidden from collaborating with the VTubers. This is akin to the way Japanese idols are. Other than listening to anime OSTs, I was never that into idol groups. 3DPD also means Japanese women¨Calthough I would be remiss to disclose that I have fapped to JAVs on multiple occasions. It hits me like a bad itch. While it was still porn, which is whorery of the highest order, it being Japanese women being fucked balanced it out. Back on topic¨Cthis wasn¡¯t always the case in the West. There were English VTubers who had boyfriends. I don¡¯t know if I said this earlier, but there were companies that even allowed their VTubers to have boyfriends. Allowed. They were a disgrace to VTubing, but I was glad that they at least admitted their whorery. Made me less guilty when I fapped to them. There was a second, not so secret, group of English VTubers that had boyfriends, but in secret. That was the group that Violet was in, and the one that Juliet was about to be forced into if that fucking roommate doesn¡¯t go away. If you ask them directly, you¡¯ll get banned from chat. That¡¯s retarded to do anyway. They¡¯ll lie through their teeth. Deny it. Deflect. To get the truth, you have to go to the secret sites. I¡¯m not giving them out. Lurk moar. There, you can find out if they have had a boyfriend in the past. Sometimes it¡¯s that case closed. Other times, you have to pick up on hints. The amount of times a VTuber collabs with a DudeTuber multiplies the chance that they¡¯re a whore. Violet is a whore on that count as well, which is¡­three strikes? Four? I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s an out in baseball, but you get the picture. She was never confirmed to have a boyfriend on the secret sites. Hell, there¡¯s not much about her on there, other than her past lives. But once you think about it, it¡¯s obvious. Her ¡®friendship¡¯ with the roommate only further confirms this. Juliet on the other hand, never collaborated with DudeTubers. NijiLive was better about this than AnyClover. If she did, it was on an official stream, or one with a fuckton of other VTubers. It still wasn¡¯t ideal, but it limited the amount of time they talked to each other. The less, the better. Less painful and irritating. One-on-one sessions, like what Juliet implied, were another thing. You had no one else to talk to but your opponent. There was always a chance that they weren¡¯t in a voice call, but given how online VTubers are, it was a given that at least they were in one. If he was on was another question. Given that he was in a voice call in Violet¡¯s chat when she played CS:GO gives me the impression he was in the Street Fighter call as well, since he¡¯s Violet¡¯s ¡®friend¡¯. Which would technically make it a one-on-one-on-one session, but that hardly makes it better in this situation. I don¡¯t know how long they played, but I know a fighting game set takes about five minutes to do. And they didn¡¯t only play one, that¡¯s for sure. Fighting game players like to do ¡®first to ten¡¯ or ¡®first to thirty¡¯ matches, which can take hours if closely fought. I have no idea how good the roommate is at fighting games, but I know Juliet is ass at them. Admittedly, I was in a fit of rage right now, but I think I heard her say that she barely won the set. At least she won. Makes him look weak¨Calthough that also could be a ploy by him to look emasculate, like those male feminists. I can¡¯t know, since their matches were held in private, but I know he put on a gay little voice while playing CS:GO with Violet. I remember the /vt/ thread. Anon said that the roommate kept it up all the time. The guy is good about hiding his identity. Not that a voice recording from CS:GO would get us anywhere, but it would be better than a falsetto and a only somewhat audible yell in the background. I remember that, because it was later linked in that thread. Not enough to identify shit. The time he played CS:GO, his name was ¡®roommate¡¯. It¡¯s a private Steam account. Looking it up on Steam brought up a thousand results. Only three fit the description, and they were all private. So another dead end. There was not much to go off of to find out who this guy was. There wasn¡¯t any information about him on the secret sites. Seems that no one else wanted to stop this guy. Concerning.


    Why did I want to know who he was? To teach him a lesson. This man was abusing his privilege of being a DudeTuber¡¯s roommate in order to get with VTubers. Violet was one thing because she¡¯s a whore. I¡¯ve been over this before. But Juliet...Juliet was crossing a red line. There have been other pure VTubers that became whores. Just thinking about them sickens me. I wasn¡¯t able to stop them. Juliet is in deep trouble right now¡­if she gets lured by his manipulative words, she will become a whore. There are other VTubers out there, yes. But Juliet is my favorite. My oshi. My waifu, if you will. My number one. That being taken away from me would be soul-crushing. It would be NTR, but in real life. There are two things I can do: Wait and watch her potentially become a whore, or stop him by any means. Right now, I¡¯m so infuriated that I¡¯m pursuing option two.


    I knew he lived on the East Coast. According to Francis¡¯s information on his fan wiki page, he moved there from the West Coast. That cuts it down to about fifty million men it could be. Better than one-hundred-and-fifty million. This was going to take some time.


    There were two options¨CI could go on 4chan and make a thread about it. I rarely post on there, but desperate times call for desperate measures. If there are no bites, then I¡¯ll remake the thread in twelve hours, and so on. If it never catches on, then I might have to move on to the second option¨Cmake a thread on PeachPastures. PeachPatstures wasn¡¯t really a website meant for VTubers, but this fit the scope of it. I didn¡¯t have an account on there, but again, I was willing to sign up to acquire information. As long as I was able to convince them that he was trying to piggyback off of Francis to get with VTubers then I could potentially get people to look further into it. Get a dox. On /vt/, there was no guarantee that I would get anything useful. On PeachPastures, the worst that could happen is that I make a poorly worded post and no one responds. In the meantime, I need to dig further into the details about him. Or rather, Francis. His real name isn¡¯t known, all that I knew was his past life¡¯s names. He moved to the East Coast around a year and a half ago, and once said that he doesn¡¯t live near the coast. Francis, and more importantly the roommate, are located somewhere in the hinterlands of the East Coast, near a huge lake. Francis has given out that much about where he lives. ¡®Near the coast¡¯ may have different definitions from Francis to me, but it does rule out some major cities. Miami, Washington D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York City, Cleveland, and Detroit. I could count out the entire state of Florida along with much more of the inland, but I¡¯ll keep my scope broad for now. The ¡®near a huge lake¡¯ hint will take some time to investigate. I¡¯ll have to define what ¡®big lake¡¯ means, and then go from there. I¡¯m already counting out the Great Lakes. If he lived near one, it would be ¡®near the coast¡¯. That only simplifies things some. It¡¯s all I can do for now, unfortunately. I would have to start watching his streams and being a regular in his threads. I need to gain information on him as well because it¡¯ll lead me to the man I want.


    There was no time to waste¨Ctime to go on /vt/ and make that thread.


    <hr>


    MAP OF WHERE ROOMMATE COULD BE LOCATED. RED = NO, TRANSPARENT YELLOW = DOUBTFUL. Searching within the area not colored will save me time while still giving me a broad scope.


    POSSIBLE ¡®BIG LAKES¡¯ THAT FRANCIS FUKUYAMA AND THE ROOMMATE LIVE BY: Lake Champlain, Moosehill Lake, Clarks Hill Lake, Lake Hartwell, Oneida Lake, Lake Murray, Lake Winnipesaukee, Walter F George Lake, Seneca Lake, Cayuga Lake, Lake Lanier, Lake Norman, Lake George, Great Sacandaga Lake, Smith Mountain Lake, Lake Oconee, Lake Keowee, Raystown Lake, Lake Jocassee, Squam Lake, Lake James, Lake Wallenpaupack, Blue Ridge Lake, Summersville Lake, Lake Bomoseen, Lake Placid, Lake Willoughby, Lake Rabun, Lake Harmony.


    These lakes are littered all throughout the East Coast. Many in the Northeast and many in the Southeast as well. The ones in the North tended to be less populated, while the ones down South were huger. I had twenty-nine lakes listed above¨Cone of them was bound to be the right one. There was always the chance that Francis and the roommate did not live anywhere near stated on secret pages and he was throwing people like me off. I know that, but it was the best information I could go off of. It was the only information I had.


    It would take an astounding amount of time to narrow down the twenty-nine lakes to a shortlist. As of right now, this was a one-man operation¨Cmy thread on the roommate had not gotten any interesting bites yet. Only one anon calling me a faggot. I expected this to happen. ¡®Not your personal army¡¯ was the rule if I remember. That rule had been dead for a while by now. Hell, I bet most of the summerfags and phoneposters on 4chan didn¡¯t even know about the Rules of the Internet. It was no wonder they shit up wherever they go. Underage 4chan users always did that, no matter the year.


    I had all the time in the world. It¡¯s time to retake society and mold it to my will.

 The CEO

    [¡°Hear from our CEO, Takeshi-san, at 8 PM JST tonight!¡±]


    There was a tweet from ¡®@AnyCloverGlobal¡¯ that was announcing that ¡®Takeshi¡¯, who was the CEO of AnyClover, was going to do some virtual press. For what, I don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t click on the link in the post. I didn¡¯t even follow ¡®@AnyCloverGlobal¡¯¡ªit was on the top of my ¡®For You¡¯ page. It was around 8 PM on the East Coast, which meant that whatever was happening was going to happen in around twelve hours.


    I¡¯ve seen Takeshi before¨Che was sometimes the butt of playful jokes made by the AnyClover community. His real job, outside of being CEO, was to be the de-facto leader of AnyClover. The ¡®CEO¡¯ title already implied that, but as his employees were the face of AnyClover Entertainment, he was the face for AnyClover Corporate.


    As for the man himself, I had never heard much about him. Michael hasn¡¯t ever talked about him other than in a joking capacity. It¡¯s not surprising, considering they¡¯re thousands of miles away from each other, and the fact that Michael is only one of dozens, if not hundreds, of AnyClover employees. The language barrier might not be as big of a deal, since Michael, as with every other VTuber it seems, has a rudimentary understanding of Japanese, but it didn¡¯t matter. No direct line of communication between the two. At least to my understanding.


    Takeshi himself was as plain as they come. Wearing standard Japanese businessman attire, the only difference between him and the average salaryman was that he had a smile on his face. Aside from his grin, he looked like the average everyday man.


    His influence, or lack of influence, on AnyClover was a bit interesting. His word as good as gold when it came to anything AnyClover, but those words were only sparsely seen.


    Going back to the post, ¡®@ANYCLOVER_GLOBAL¡¯ tagged ¡®@takeshi_clover¡¯, which had to be his official Twitter account.


    Clicking on it, the first thing I saw was that he had thirty-thousand tweets. Damn, maybe I¡¯m wrong here and he¡¯s larger than I thought. The guy had near half a million followers. Nowhere near what the top VTubers in AnyClover had, but it was about the same as Michael and Violet. A few scrolls showed that most of those tweets were him retweeting one of the AnyClover VTubers or upcoming events. The first tweet that had words typed by him was of him congratulating a group of Japanese AnyClover VTubers on their second anniversary. I¡¯ve never heard of them¨Cthere were a lot more Japanese VTubers on the roster than non-Japanese. That tweet was three days ago. There was also one of him celebrating the concert Violet and her cohorts did a few weeks ago. I still haven¡¯t watched that all the way through.


    Scrolling further down, I came to the realization that while I was wrong about the extent of how much Takeshi uses his voice, I was right that he doesn¡¯t usually use his own. He used his voice to amplify his employees¡¯. It made sense¨Cafter all, people are there to see his employees, not him. There was an affinity for him throughout the AnyClover community, but that had risen from a love of watching VTubers that he, by chance of being the CEO, had given a platform to. He was liked not because of what he did, but because of the joy that he had brought to the screens of millions. His seemingly ¡®hands off¡¯ nature was particularly good, especially in an industry that¡¯s driven by creativity and improvisation.


    His lack of intention of putting any ¡®Takeshi¡¯ style into AnyClover reminded me of the bosses of motorsport teams¨Cunlike the laid-back approach Takeshi had, racing team bosses were stereotypically autocratic with how they ran the team.


    The most famous contemporary example of this that came to mind was Ron Dennis, the long-time CEO of McLaren and Team Principal of the McLaren Formula One racing team. While the team was started by Bruce McLaren, who sadly passed away testing a Can-Am car in 1970, the aesthetic revolving around the name ¡®McLaren¡¯ has more to do with the legacy of Ron Dennis. Zak Brown¡¯s tenure as McLaren¡¯s generalissimo has brought a return to its original form, color scheme-wise. I¡¯m biased, but I quite like the papaya.


    Ron Dennis¡¯s aesthetic could very well be called an anti-aesthetic. His whole thing was ¡®grey¡¯. Everything grey. Once Marlboro left as title sponsor, the car turned from a beautiful white and red to a stern grey. About everything in the McLaren Technology Centre, which was built under his tenure, is grey. It¡¯s an impressive structure that¡¯s pleasing to the eye, but everything except the grass is GREY. A choice made by one man for one man. Hell, according to Adrian Newey, legendary designer of F1 cars who worked under Ron for a while, the callsign for Ron¡¯s private plane was GREY as well.


    Dennis, while having an aesthetic of a bad day, also enforced his vision onto everyone who worked for him. A true dictator¨Che had to have total control of everything under the McLaren sun. A real control freak.


    What did McLaren accomplish under his iron fist? Well, quite a lot¨Cseven Constructors¡¯ Championships and ten Drivers¡¯ Championships in his nearly thirty-year run as team principal. McLaren is currently second in Formula One Grand Prix wins all time, only losing to Ferrari. More than half of them came under Dennis¡¯s rule.


    When you look at who drove for him, it becomes no wonder he was so successful. First Niki Lauda, who won his last title with him in 1984. Then later on, having Ayrton Senna and Alain Prost driving for you, at the same time. Both drivers are easily top-10 all-time F1 drivers. Mika Hakkinen then drove for him and brought him double titles in 1998 and 1999. Lewis Hamilton, who Ron has known since he was a 10-year-old phenom in the UK karting scene, is often seen as his crowning achievement. In his rookie year, he almost won the world title with McLaren, losing only to Kimi Raikkonen, who had left McLaren the year before. Lewis Hamilton would win a Drivers¡¯ Title in 2008, but only enjoyed moderate success until he left for Mercedes. That¡¯s when he took off and became quite possibly the best driver to ever grace the sport.


    Other drivers of note to drive under him were Gerhard Berger, David Coulthard (famous for his chin), Juan Pablo Montoya (who won a championship in CART and drove in NASCAR for an extended period. He statistically had a way better career in F1 than he did in NASCAR, which makes it seem strange to understand why he left F1 in the first place¨Cthat is until you understand that he was driving for Ron Dennis. Juan himself being a particularly outspoken character versus the dictatorship of Ron¨Ca partnership that was just waiting to blow up once the ship was sailing less soundly.), and Jenson Button. Fernando Alonso also drove for him for one eventful year. That¡¯s a story for another time.


    Needless to say, Ron Dennis had the backing talent in order to enforce his will. Not to mention that the McLaren car itself was consistently one of the top-performing on the grid during that time¨Cthere was an eighth Constructors¡¯ Title that McLaren would have won if the FIA didn¡¯t strip them of all their points for their involvement in ¡®Spygate¡¯, the espionage controversy stemming from a disgruntled senior Ferrari employee, Nigel Stepney, sharing confidential information about the Ferrari car to Mike Coughlan, a senior McLaren engineer. The story only broke after Coughlan¡¯s wife took the stolen confidential information to a local copy shop. The owner of the copy shop, by chance a huge Ferrari fan, saw that the near eight-hundred pages of information he was copying was of top-secret technical information about the Ferrari car. An email shot from the copy shop owner in Woking, England to Ferrari HQ in Maranello, Italy was the tipoff. They might have gotten away with it if they went to a copy shop not owned by a tifoso.


    The result of the investigation, along with the exclusion from the 2007 Constructors¡¯ Championship, was that McLaren was fined $100 million¨C$5 million for the crime, and $95 million for Ron ¡®being a cunt¡¯, according to Max Mosley, then President of the FIA. Max would know something about cunts, especially since his pops, ¡®Sir¡¯ Oswald Mosley, was infamously the leader of the British Union of Fascists in the 1930s. Apparently, the mutual grudge held between Ron Dennis and Max Mosley cut so deep that excluding McLaren from the 2008 Formula One season was a serious option, and was only dropped after other pleading from Bernie Ecclestone, then sole owner of the Formula One commercial rights, not to do so. A penalty as heavy-handed as that had the risk of erasing the McLaren name, one of the most well-known Formula One teams, from the fold altogether. If you take the example of the ¡®Death Penalty¡¯ that Southern Methodist University football program was handed in the mid-1980s for the crime of paying players to play for them, it¡¯s quite possible that the risk of McLaren¡¯s becoming extinct in Formula One was certain if handed a similar ¡®Death Penalty¡¯. College football and Formula One are two vastly different sports, but being excluded for a whole season has drastic consequences for both. SMU hasn¡¯t been the same since. The risk of permanent damage to the Formula One World Championship was more than the need to ¡®teach a lesson¡¯. The ¡®lesson¡¯ in this case being ¡®Fuck you Ron.¡¯ In defense of Ron, as far as I know, he had no involvement in Spygate, and immediately reported it when he found out. That was his downfall¨Che put too much trust into his employees and assumed he had control over them, not knowing what they were doing behind his back. He may be a dick, but he was never a cheat¨Cinnocent until proven guilty!


    Back on the grey tangent¨Cthe McLaren F1 car didn¡¯t really take on Ron¡¯s vision until the late nineties. Before then, Marlboro had their logo plastered all over the McLaren¡¯s for two decades. Marlboro¡¯s color scheme being red and white, combined with the fact that they were paying the bills, meant that the car had to be red and white. Thankfully it was a beautiful livery. It¡¯s iconic. Cigarette money was endless, and while throwing money at a car won¡¯t magically make it go faster, it gives the resources to do the research in order to make it go faster. You don¡¯t get Adrian Newey on the cheap.


    In 1997, McLaren changed title sponsors from Marlboro to West, another cigarette brand. West¡¯s color schemes are grey and red, which made it way easier to introduce a grey-ish silver on the livery as well. A new identity brought on by new sponsors brought us into ¡®Ron¡¯s World¡¯.


    The McLaren of that time, while appearing quite dull on the surface, is still one of the fan favorites from that time. The main reason why (in my opinion) was because they won a lot. Winning is the best way for an ugly car to become pretty. The West McLaren car, while never ugly, had to leave its mark in order to become iconic. If it was average, then it would be a dull car forgotten in the dustbin of Formula One history. Two Drivers¡¯ Titles and one Constructors¡¯ was good enough to be runner-ups in that period¨CMichael Schumacher and Ferrari wiped the board between 2000 and 2004. Ironically, the title sponsor for Ferrari in that period was Marlboro, which suited the rosso corsa that surrounded the prancing horse¡¯s body. It¡¯s that reason why Marlboro is mostly associated with Ferrari today, even though they had a partnership with McLaren for just as long, with their logo being plastered on McLaren for way longer. Tobacco companies were banned from putting their name on the cars in the 2000s¨Cadvertisement law and all of that¨Cit¡¯s the reason why you don¡¯t see any F1 cars with cigarette brands on them anymore. A win for public health, but a great loss for aesthetics.


    Moving on from West, whose huge logo on the sidepod of the McLaren¡¯s more and more were replaced with driver names (¡®WEST¡¯ replaced with ¡®MIKA¡¯, ¡®DAVID¡¯, or ¡®KIMI¡¯ for example) as tobacco ad laws became strict to the point where you couldn¡¯t show them in continental Europe by the mid-2000s. Replacing them was Vodafone, a cellular services company, which made it two sponsors in a row that offered no services to the USA.


    The ¡®Vodafone¡¯ period saw only some chances to the livery, the main one being it becoming metallic¨Csomething that increased its aesthetic value immensely. In my opinion anyway. The metallic was a style of grey, which fit Ron¡¯s Vision.


    If the metallics caught the eye, the rookie driver wringing it by its neck and almost winning the Drivers¡¯ Title in his first year of competing instantly made it a classic. Lewis Hamilton¨CSir Lewis Hamilton to be correct, but this was before he earned the title. Year two, he got his first title. A good-looking car looks even better when it wins.


    A few years into the Vodafone era, Ron took a step back from being Team Principal to focus on other areas within McLaren. While he wasn¡¯t as public anymore, his rule was still very much in function. In fact, in this period, Ron had completed his conceptualization of his aesthetic. It¡¯s most completely shown in the animated cartoon Tooned. Excuse the funny name¨Cmost people online call it McLaren Tooned. Watching the shorts, you can see Ron¡¯s Vision, or animators¡¯ interpretation of it anyway. While almost everything is a tone of grey, the atmosphere and vibes are positive. Like if Cloud City was real, combined with that water world they go to in episode three of Star Wars. The cartoon is set in the McLaren Technology Centre, which is shown to be a futuristic utopia¨Ceverything inside the building is state-of-the-art, and if anything gets broken in the episode (it¡¯s a comedic cartoon, which means the car explodes in many episodes), it¡¯s magically fixed by the next episode. Lewis Hamilton, Jenson Button, Sergio Perez, Kevin Magnussen, and others are characters in the show¨Csince McLaren changed drivers often from season to season, each season of McLaren Tooned usually had a new cast. Other drivers, like Mika Hakkinen and a teenage Nyck de Vries, a decade before he made his F1 debut, make cameos. While advertised as the ¡®next big thing¡¯ on McLaren Tooned, his grand prix career only lasted a handful of races, being booted from AlphaTauri ten races into the season, just a few days ago funnily enough. He¡¯s a great driver, but got a rough deal which was destined to fail. He¡¯ll bounce back. The series is on YouTube if you¡¯re interested in watching it.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    As for Ron, he sold all his shares in McLaren in 2017 and ceased to have anything to do with them. It¡¯s a long story how that happened, something that I¡¯m not that interested in getting into. Boardroom politics.


    After he left, you could see a drastic change aesthetically. While his legacy will never be forgotten, his aesthetic was painted over almost immediately.


    In the final years of his tenure at McLaren, the livery became more and more dull, eventually losing all of its metallic grey and being replaced with a rather disappointing black. It¡¯s hard to fuck up black, but McLaren did during that time. The car itself, while competitive in the early-2010s, slipped into midfield and backmarker obscurity by the middle of the decade. A bad car will only make it uglier.


    Once he left, the livery started to shed any traces of his vision. By 2019 or 2020 they had changed back to the papaya that they rocked so many years ago. A shout out to a different era of McLaren¨Cone before Ron. Today, there are almost zero traces of his touch on the current McLaren organization, BUT his mark will never be forgotten. Many cars he¡¯s been behind are on display at the McLaren Technology Centre, which by now is no longer ¡®state-of-the-art¡¯. The current McLaren CEO, Zak Brown, is more of a public-pacing, glass half-full type of guy. He is American, and is fulfilling several of the stereotypes. He definitely is less autocratic than Mr. Dennis.


    You may be thinking¨Cwhat the hell does this have to do with Takeshi? Well, in all honesty, not that much, considering that ¡®Takeshi¡¯s World¡¯ is more than likely not a thing, or if it is a thing, it consists of Virtual YouTubers doing their thing, within the YouTube guidelines.


    The main input that Takeshi had, other than these occasional public-facing events, were deep into the AnyClover website. Financial reports were open to the public, but were rarely read by the core audience, unless a VTuber they liked was included in the press release or if they just care that much. The main audience for these were potential investors and companies researching if collaborating with the AnyClover brand was worth the price of admission.


    Thankfully, along with the financial report was a PowerPoint presentation that put those boring words into slightly less-boring images. I¡¯ve read many yawn-inducing things at university, so a PowerPoint presentation about financial results wasn¡¯t anything daunting¡­well, I say that, but a lot of this stuff was still going over my head.


    The PowerPoint I was reading was in English, but at the same time wasn¡¯t. It seemed like it was a direct translation¨Cskimming to the bottom, I discovered that this was the case. ¡®This material is an English translation of the original Japanese language material and has been prepared solely for reference purposes¡¯ was the way they put it. The presentation used ¡®VTuber¡¯ and ¡®VTubers¡¯ interchangeably, as if they sometimes remembered that English uses an ¡®s¡¯ to separate singulars and plurals, while at other times they didn¡¯t bother. A small disclaimer on the bottom stating ¡®Information contained in this document is confidential and property. Please do not reproduce or distribute with out permission.¡¯ was lost on me, since usually confidential information isn¡¯t able to be Googled. Not like there were any hidden secrets within the PowerPoint in the first place. The convoluted English made the presentation harder to read, but it still got the point across. Most times this is being presented in Japanese anyway.


    In the AnyClover fold, there were seventy-five VTubers in total. Around ten of them were part of AnyClover EN¨CMichael and Violet were the only two out of the seventy-five that I knew at a personal level. The eight other members were still strangers to me¨Cwell, I know Dusty and Yuji somewhat now, but I still haven¡¯t talked to them in a voice call or played any games with them. The group chat I was in with them was barren, other than the occasional post about the upcoming trip. Everything about the hotel had been booked by now, and I had been given the dates to take off. I even got to use PTO on it! I¡¯d still be paid like I was at the Hobby while trying to erase it from my mind for a few days. Sometimes having a full-time job ruled. As far as I know, the boys¡¯ audience still didn¡¯t know about the trip. As far as I knew, that would only be revealed a few days before the trip.


    Of the sixty-five other AnyClover VTubers, the grand majority of them were Japanese. The company, being Japanese, started with Japanese VTubers, and only ventured into North America in the last two years. There are also some Korean and Indonesian VTubers¨Cabout ten of each if my count was correct. I was surprised that there were no Chinese VTubers in the fold¨CI knew many Chinese people (Chinese-American, Chinese-Canadian, and plain ol¡¯ Chinese) watched VTubers, but that didn¡¯t translate to representation with VTubers themself. At least at AnyClover. If I were in the boardroom with Takeshi, and had a good enough grasp of business Japanese to ask, that would be the second question I would ask. The first would be whatever happened to the racing sim setup that was taken away from me. But really, I would like to know why there hasn¡¯t been any expansion into the Chinese market, despite it being a hotbed for potential new viewers along with new VTubers. There had to be a reason for it, and it wasn¡¯t because they would potentially be segregated by website (China had their own YouTube-clone, Bilibili, which was the choice for most Chinese users. As far as I knew, you needed a VPN to access YouTube there which cut out the less tech-savvy viewers.) Perhaps it was too much trouble for its worth? The return on investment isn¡¯t there? I¡¯m not accepting nativism as the answer because why would they have Korean VTubers then? The answer more than likely had to do with the amount of investment it would take versus the return on it¨Cwhy start a completely new endeavor on a website that only one (huge) country uses? That being said, Bilibili still had hundreds of millions of users, so it wasn¡¯t like it was a niche website.


    Moving to the ¡®Financial Highlights¡¯¨CAnyClover had reported an 18 billion yen in revenue for the last fiscal year. That was around 125 million dollars when converted. The yen has been becoming weaker in the last year, which meant while their revenue was growing at an acceptable rate, it looked worse when converted to the dollar. Still nothing to sneeze at, however, especially since the graphs provided showed that the revenue was increasing at a consistent rate, with no drop-off in sight. Profit was at around 2.5 billion yen, which was around 17.5 million dollars. Wow! Divide that between the seventy-five VTubers in the roster, it meant that each VTuber produced 30 million yen, or more than two-hundred thousand dollars, in revenue within the last year. Now, I¡¯m not a VTuber expert, but I know that not all VTubers are created equal. Some generated more revenue than others. Sometimes that was the case due to longevity¨Cthe nature of corporate VTubing shields them from being involved in most controversies that ¡®regular¡¯ streamers could find themselves in. It wasn¡¯t impossible, but a good majority of ¡®corpo tubers¡¯ knew that it wasn¡¯t good business to constantly be embroiled in controversy. They could be dropped at any moment if one proved to be hurting the bottom line enough. The VTubers that had been around for around half a decade now straight had some of the biggest fanbases. They had the most subscribers, and while some of that contained dead subs and subscribers that had moved on to other VTubers, they were still consistently at the top of the earnings sheet. They had years of merchandise drops, live concerts, and various other revenue-producing endeavors that would make Takeshi and the rest of corporate very happy. The top five VTubers in AnyClover generated approximately twenty percent of the revenue, which to be honest was a bit lower than I anticipated. Goes to show how much AnyClover invests in diversifying and future-proofing their product. Have too few VTubers and you run into the risk of a significant drop off in revenue if one of your cash-cows decides to move on. Have too many, and you have the risk of diluting the market and losing revenue on your newer and less popular VTubers. The bottom five VTubers only generated two percent of total revenue. I assume these consisted of the VTubers who were in the latest debut AnyClover rolled out.


    As to how AnyClover generates that revenue, around half of it comes from merchandise sales. That includes stuff like posters, plushies, acrylic stands, and even voice packs, which are the most frequently released ¡®merch¡¯. I use quotes because I struggled to understand how it could qualify as merchandise. You can¡¯t physically hold a sound clip¡­well, you can physically hold a flash drive that has all the voice packs in the world. In that way, it did make sense. But considering the voice packs were delivered digitally via MP3, it felt a bit silly. If it sells, then who am I to scoff at it? There was a low overhead with them, guaranteed to produce a profit. The hardest part would have to be coordinating the VTubers that accepted the project and making sure they turned in their contribution within time.


    Livestreaming generated twenty percent of the total revenue¨Csuperchats, memberships, and AdSense was included in this. I didn¡¯t anticipate AdSense being a big enough contributor to even be included, but I guess it did add up if you had seventy-five channels that livestreamed at least three times a week. I know YouTube took approximately half of the superchat and membership money¨Ceveryone had to get paid somehow I guess.


    Promotions were another twenty percent of the revenue. I sure hope Franatrec didn¡¯t pay a shitton for that one stream. I did my best, but the stream setup itself was a bit slapdash. We didn¡¯t even have a wheel and or pedal cam! I knew there were middling mobile games that did many promotions with not just AnyClover, but with NijiLive as well. The VTubers have to disclose that they¡¯re doing a promotional stream so as to not lead their audience astray. Another tell is that these streams usually are shorter, with most of them ending soon after ninety minutes has passed. I don¡¯t blame them, since most of those games look like hot garbage. I also knew that in Japan they did a lot more localized promotions, with certain VTubers collaborating with a bookstore or a local chain cafe, for example. Things of that nature. In America, that stuff was probably only worth it in major metropolitan areas like New York City or San Francisco.


    The final ten percent of revenue came from live events that AnyClover hosted. These were events not unlike the concert that Violet and her female VTubers did a few weeks ago. I don¡¯t think there were any live tickets for that concert, so the money from that came from digital tickets that were sold online. The concert was uploaded on YouTube not soon afterwards, so I don¡¯t really see the point of buying a ticket for it, but I wasn''t the audience in the first place. There was also merchandise related to the event, which of course drove up the merch revenues. The ¡®idol¡¯ aspect of VTubing is at its strongest here. Not only can Violet play games, but she can also sing and dance. Most VTubers can at least do one of those¨Cusually singing. Hell, Michael even has a few songs where he has a verse. I guess it¡¯s required of you. Another reason why I couldn¡¯t do what he does. But back to the idol part. It further endears the VTuber to their audience, since they don¡¯t only get to see them casually while playing games, but they also get to see them in a professional capacity. If the people at Coachella liked the Tupac hologram, then VTuber fans love seeing their oshi (however many they have) on stage. To me, it felt contrived, but it wasn¡¯t like these women (and men) didn¡¯t want to be idols, it¡¯s just that they would rather do it in a digital form instead of their physical one. Considering how parasocial idol culture is, I completely understand why. A lot of these VTubers are into idols themselves, so they know what they¡¯re getting into.


    That was about as much data I could extract out of the PowerPoint without directly copy and pasting graphs from it. Most of it was a primer on what the concept of ¡®VTubing¡¯ is, how the industry has grown in the past five years, and how there is still exponential room to grow. Of course, there was a ceiling to how much revenue AnyClover could make, but from the PowerPoint, it seemed like that wouldn¡¯t happen in the short-term. While VTubing had its flirtations with the mainstream, it was still a relatively niche subgenre of streaming, compared to the most popular streamers out there. AnyClover was still a few years out from having their own product sold in Walmart.


    This PowerPoint only showed the positives of AnyClover, which there were many if you were purely thinking financially. I knew from first hand that AnyClover had at least a moderate amount of dysfunction. The whole Franatrec saga taught me that. The third question I would ask Takeshi is if they would like for me to translate their literal Japanese-to-English PowerPoint to something that didn¡¯t look machine-translated. The fee would be a low five hundred dollars. They could spare that, right?


    The level of ¡®yabai¡¯ moments consisted of things like that¨Cnothing that the public knew about, which was obviously good. There wouldn¡¯t be an outcry from my situation, since everything was agreed on informally, but it would most certainly be something riff on about due to the humor of it all.


    Something more serious, like a scandal involving one of its VTubers, could damage the image of AnyClover. While being in a relationship wasn¡¯t explicitly forbidden, it would not be a good look if one of them was hiding the fact they were in one. It¡¯s the flip side of being an ¡®idol¡¯. You were for everyone. It would be a betrayal if you were more intimate with one person than everyone else. Well, I don¡¯t think AnyClover takes it that seriously, but I¡¯d rather not find out if I was Takeshi. He¡¯d agree with me. The damage would be relatively minor to what could happen. In a situation like that, if it was really that damning, a termination would be the best route. It¡¯s regressive and not what I would want to do, but considering the business they¡¯re in, it¡¯s the only way to save face. Either that, or AnyClover would have to firmly state their position on relationships. AnyClover fans on the aggregate aren¡¯t as regressive or reactionary as one may seem, but there would be a falling out with an undeniable percentage of the fans. Perhaps that would be for the better, since their passion borders on obsession, but at the same time they could be the people that spend the most in superchats and buy the most merch. The humane route would be to accept the fact that your VTubers are also human and also feel desire, but Takeshi isn¡¯t here to be humane¨Che¡¯s here to generate profit to the shareholders.


    Something more damning, like accounting fraud, bullying of a VTuber by others within the corporation, or Takeshi himself pursuing a VTuber could cause more damage. The first would land AnyClover more in trouble with the law than with fans, but it would still not be a good look. No one wants to be the Enron of their industry. The second would leave a bitter taste in viewers'' mouths, especially with the VTubers that were involved with said bullying. AnyClover would require a facelift, maybe in the form of suspending said VTubers, or even terminating them. Otherwise, it would leave a permanent stain on the corporation. I wouldn¡¯t underestimate the amount of damage it would leave. The only thing worse than being in a relationship to many viewers is being a bully. It would destroy the harmonious culture that AnyClover has spent years fostering. It¡¯s something that would take years to repair, if it was possible. The internet doesn¡¯t forget, especially if you destroy their illusion of a perfect society. The third option¡­well, I don¡¯t think Takeshi would be as dumb to even attempt that. What¡¯s the point? The man probably already has a family, so why risk that. It¡¯s such an absurd hypothetical that I didn¡¯t even take it seriously.


    It would take a lot for AnyClover to be involved in a Spygate-type scandal. The only thing I could think of that would cause them to receive a ¡®death penalty¡¯ would be if they were caught inflating viewer-counts. Those accusations are thrown often in certain parts of the internet, but a real case of view-botting could potentially get AnyClover banned from streaming on YouTube. AnyClover is big, but they aren¡¯t too big to fail. In a situation like that, I don¡¯t know what YouTube could do except ban the corporation from their platform. Maybe remove the ability to receive superchats and AdSense revenue along with removing the membership function? Something like that would not only hurt the bottom-line for AnyClover, but it would also cut deeply into the revenue that their VTubers would make. It would be worth them moving to another platform like Twitch for the time being, but there¡¯s also the risk of the backlash getting them the same penalty there, even though the offense was committed on another website. Even a three-month suspension from it would do massive damage to the corporation and its entertainers. And not to mention the bad press it would bring. They would be called AnyBotter until they folded. The damage it would have on the viewer-base¡­I don¡¯t know it would do much really, since the botting would be a company decision, not a VTuber one. I hope so at least. It would detract new viewers, but I didn¡¯t see current viewers leaving en masse.


    Just as the VTuber industry doesn¡¯t have a Ron Dennis-type figure to define the culture and aesthetic, there also isn¡¯t a Max Mosley to regulate, police, and antagonize the corporations along with the VTubers. There wasn¡¯t a regulatory body like the FIA to do that, and there would never be. Just like the concept of a ¡®VTuber Union¡¯ is a far away dream. Of course, the camaraderie that some VTuber groups share could resemble something like an union, but I¡¯m afraid that could be broken real quick if it came to that.


    Takeshi¡¯s announcement stream would be happening in primetime in Japan, which was around 7 AM on the East Coast. Needless to say, I won¡¯t be tuning in. Not for lack of interest, but because I¡¯d rather be snoozing. Anything that came from it would be shown to me on Twitter once I got up. I¡¯m sure it was the same old same old. Hope it goes well.

 The New Wave/Whittling Down

    There was a new wave coming, taking over the internet! Breaking it, if you were a boomer or gen-xer. This wave was, well, you probably already know what kind of wave I was talking about.


    There was a new wave of VTubers joining AnyClover EN. New co-workers for Michael. They¡¯ll be ¡®kouhai¡¯ to him, and he¡¯ll be their ¡®senpai¡¯. Even if they were not Japanese in real life, they still have to abide by standard Japanese etiquette. In public anyway. That''s another reason why I¡¯d never have his job.


    This announcement had nothing to do with the event where the AnyClover CEO, Takeshi, spoke last week. This announcement came just within the last few hours.


    The wave name was ¡®Project Luna¡¯¡ªquite strange, considering neither had anything to do with the moon, concept-wise. I was also surprised that they were debuting only two VTubers. If I remember correctly, Michael was one of the first five AnyClover EN VTubers that debuted as ¡®Project Hajime¡¯, which translated to ¡®Project Start¡¯. A bit literal, but that¡¯s how directly translated Japanese usually sounds. The second wave, released six months later, also had five members, Violet being one of them. They were ¡®Project X¡¯. Like the movie, except without the underage drinking, drug use, and Dax Flame. The concept was meant to be somewhat edgy in theme, something that fell flat once you got to know the VTubers that debuted. The concept art looked corny on its own, but once you include the characters that they tried to tie that concept on to. Violet couldn¡¯t be edgy if she tried. Not just the ¡®character¡¯ of Violet Bridgewater, but also the woman behind the mask. Of course, I¡¯m privileged to know this, even if I didn¡¯t know her that well. The thing was that she was still ¡®Violet Bridgewater¡¯ to me, even though she did have a legal name. I doubt knowing it would change anything in the first place.


    To be quite honest, the whole concept of the new wave was a bit much for me. The name of the debuting male VTuber was ¡®Rex Inujima¡¯, whose two oshimarks were a dog and an island. The first one made sense, but the second one only made sense once I found out what the second part of his last name meant. I haven¡¯t studied Japanese seriously ever since I graduated.


    His outfit was quite a bit ridiculous, even by VTuber standards. Rex had dog ears and wore a necklace that had a pretty sizable bone in the middle. The necklace didn¡¯t have a long chain length so it wasn¡¯t possible for Rex to bite onto the bone. I doubt that would be possible to model in the first place. He also had on a Hawaiian shirt patterned with dog prints and cargo shorts. And a tail.


    The whole thing reeked of being a flanderization of VTubers. As if he was a parody of them. The dog boy from ¡®de islands¡¯. Not what I would put out, but hey, I¡¯m not the one that calls the shots.


    His contemporary, ¡®Kinkos van der Zande¡¯, at least had a concept that wasn¡¯t jarring to look at.


    She was a rather sickly looking girl who had a surgical mask on her face and a mailbag on her body. She was wearing a mailperson outfit. Thankfully, the outfit didn¡¯t seem too tight. Fanservice comes after she starts feeling well is my guess. Her oshimark was of a mailbox, which was slightly confusing to me because I thought Kinkos was a copying service. Her last name was completely unnecessary as well¨Cnothing about her screamed Dutch, other than her ghostly pale skin. Maybe they thought it sounded cool. At least it wasn¡¯t ridiculous like the other one.


    Back to my point¨Cboth these VTubers were hard to take seriously. Most of them were to begin with, but this took the cake. I got that they had to have some type of theme to give them some flavor, but these design choices were bizarre to say the least. It''s as if they ran out of good ideas and now they¡¯re on to the bad ones.


    That being said, I wasn¡¯t the target audience¡ªDEFINITELY not Rex¡¯s, even though he was probably a nice guy off-stream. Kinkos, while being more marketed towards losers like me, had too much going on to catch my eye. The mailbag, the face mask, her Dutch name, it was all too much. It''s not like you got much about them when they were revealed¡ªjust lore about the character they were and a line ¡®fitting¡¯ of them. I found that part of the debut process especially unnecessary. If I wanted to watch a VTuber, I watched because I found the person behind the veil interesting. Not because I found the backstory interesting or because their model was sexy.


    Looking back on Twitter, I saw both Violet and Michael introducing themselves to their new coworkers via post. Guess it was kind of an unwritten rule that you had to publicly welcome them onto the force. It makes sense when you consider a good chunk of the job is spent associating with them. They¡¯re your new friends after all. Another reason why I couldn¡¯t ever be a VTuber.


    Looking at their pages, I was perplexed by how much they were sticking to their gimmick. To be fair to them, they haven¡¯t debuted yet, so their ¡®lore¡¯ and character design are all we have. They haven¡¯t had a chance to express their individuality. Show why they deserved the viewers'' eyes. That was the goal in the end. They had buy-in from the hardcore AnyClover fanbase, who supported whoever their oshis supported.


    As it stood, both VTubers had fifty-thousand subscribers on YouTube and sixty-thousand Twitter followers¡­wait a minute, shouldn¡¯t they be the other way around?


    Well, upon further thought, it was understandable since there wasn¡¯t anything on their YouTube page except for a trailer for their debut. On Twitter, they had a few posts. It takes zero effort to tweet¡ªall they had to do was have an in-character first post. Clicking on the ¡®Replies¡¯ tab, you can see that they¡¯ve replied to about every AnyClover VTuber that welcomed them. Kinkos even had retweeted some fanart of her. A quick turnaround since they were only revealed this afternoon.


    Well, the debut wasn¡¯t for¡­a few more days? I wasn¡¯t that interested, but I might as well take a peek. That is if I was home at the time. I followed Kinkos and Rex on Twitter and subscribed to them on YouTube. I could only hope that Rex didn¡¯t lean in too much with the dog shit. Only one way to find out, right?


    <hr>


    ¡®Let women be sluts!¡¯ ¡®My body, my choice!¡¯


    ¡®shut up incel¡¯ ¡®virgin faggot¡¯


    The first two, while I¡¯ve never heard in real life, were sentiments commonly shown by society. The other two were often leveled at me on imageboards when I engaged on if women have the right to be a whore, or topics of the sort. They don¡¯t, there¡¯s no debating that. The issue is getting that point across. It¡¯s not as easy as stating the facts.


    Even on /vt/, where I had the most like-minded posters, it was a mess. The fact that you can post anything you want on 4chan is a mistake sometimes. If the jannies and mods did their job it wouldn¡¯t be a problem. You get what you pay for.


    Outside of 4chan, the argument got a lot harder due to dogpiling. Cultural Marxism rues the day on sites like Twitter and YouTube. Even people who when asked would ridicule the idea of espousing Cultural Marxist views have them. They¡¯ve given up on the fight to keep women pure, and have accepted that most of them are lost causes. In my opinion, I think they¡¯ve let the whore enablers win¨Cin fact, there are major figures on the Internet right whose job before was to be one. A pimp, whose job is to ¡®trick¡¯ out the ¡®ho¡¯s¡¯. I had no idea how they did that in Eastern Europe, but it was likely similar to how they did it here. At least the whores were fucking white men. You have to find the silver linings where you can.


    I don¡¯t engage with politics on the Internet, since no one is serious about returning women to traditional roles. While I got a cathartic release from imagining myself calling Donald Trump based and pissing off feminists, I didn¡¯t support the President that much. He has a propensity to be a whore-enabler. The fact he¡¯s been married multiple times proves that. The whole deal with that porn star is even more damning. Not because of the ¡®hush money¡¯¨Cthat whore should¡¯ve kept her mouth shut in the first place¨Cbut because he was participating in such damning things in the first place. A real gentleman wouldn¡¯t ever be caught entertaining a whore whoring around.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Most of the time I talked was spent on discussing VTubers. It was the only thing I had to live for at this point. It used to be anime, but I¡¯ve grown less interested in it in the last few years.


    There were the pure VTubers¨CJuliet was on the bubble right now due to the roommate situation. She had never shown any sign of being a whore beforehand, and I was still giving her the benefit of the doubt. She was one of the few. The others were the whores. The whores, while I believe they shouldn¡¯t be on screen in the first place, did give whore-enablers someone to watch, so the pure VTubers would be left alone¡­that is what you think would happen, but a majority of VTubers being whores wasn¡¯t enough for them. EVERYONE has to be what they want, which is a whore. Enforcing their wretched way of life on VTubers. These types usually weren¡¯t on 4chan. Whenever they were, and I was in the wrong mood, I gave them a piece of my mind. Outside of the free internet, however, my speech towards them was monitored. They could say what they wanted, but as soon as I stated my viewpoint, I was called everything in the book. Prude. Bigot. Incel.


    I wasn¡¯t as much of a prude as I believed in traditional societal standards. Also, it¡¯s not like I don¡¯t fap¡­just not to 3D whores¡­most of the time. The other two¡­well, I can¡¯t deny that I am a virgin¡­BUT, I¡¯m not one to give away my virginity that easily. I want to give it to a pure woman¨Cone who will be with me forever and accept me for who I am. It was voluntary celibacy. Arguing about what ¡®bigotry¡¯ was on the internet was always pointless. Anything less than being a BLM-supporting, ACAB-shouting, left-wing degeneracy-enabler was being ¡®bigoted¡¯ to them. So yes, I am a bigot¨Ca proud one.


    What did they say that was so disgusting? Other than their ¡®progressive values¡¯, which they never missed a chance to espouse? Well, I could go on for ages if I listed every single example, but I¡¯m sure you get the gist by now. They were enablers, enabling VTubers to ¡®be free¡¯. Be free? For a woman, freedom was the worst thing you could offer them. Sure, it sounds nice, but what do you think a woman will do when she has total freedom? Go to church? Maybe. Play a video game? Doubtful, but the days of ¡®women don¡¯t play video games¡¯ are over now. In reality, women were almost always going to do something ¡®fun¡¯. Now, what is ¡®fun¡¯ to a woman? ¡®Fun¡¯ is going out on a ¡®girls night¡¯, doing god knows what. ¡®Fun¡¯ is hooking up with a random man whose last name you¡¯ll never know and the first one you¡¯ll forget. ¡®Fun¡¯ is doing that every weekend for ten years, and then when the fun¡¯s over, hope that you¡¯re married. Hope that your husband is either a cuck or a man who took advantage of your whoredom and somehow saw something in you that wasn¡¯t in any of the hundred other whores he¡¯s fucked. That¡¯s what freedom for women leads to. Is that fun? Whoreish women tricked themselves into believing so. Women can¡¯t be trusted to think on their own. Trying to tell that to these types is useless¨Cthey don¡¯t understand that. It¡¯s antithetical to their retarded worldview. For a ¡®VTuber¡¯, they had the freedom to choose what games they played, which anime or manga they discussed with their chat. and which FEMALE VTuber they talked to on stream. That¡¯s all the freedom they needed. Anything more was only asking for trouble. Some VTubers understood this. They¡¯re an analog to 3D Japanese idols. Many of them are fans of Japanese idols in the first place, so they understood the no-nos of the job. No relationships of a sexual nature¨Ca ¡®friendship¡¯ with a man would always end up slipping to being a ¡®situationship¡¯. The best-case scenario would be that the man turns out to be a beta and gets friend-zoned. Maybe that¡¯s what the roommate is setting himself up for, but I can¡¯t rest on maybes. That¡¯s how your oshi suddenly goes on a nine-month hiatus and then graduates shortly after. Not happening on my watch. Back to my point¨Cany friendship with a man is forbidden. It doesn¡¯t matter who it is¨Cfamous or insignificant, not allowed. ¡®Work relationships¡¯ with male management were necessary, even if it made me feel uneasy at times. What if they said ¡®fuck it¡¯ and went for the forbidden fruit? The forbidden fruit was their livelihood, and its being soiled would heavily dent their pocketbooks. They would never work in the business again. So much blowback that anyone sane would never take the risk in the first place, so I don¡¯t worry seriously about it happening. But what if? Collabs with men were forbidden as well. There was to be no contact between a VTuber and a DudeTuber. In an ideal world, DudeTubers wouldn¡¯t exist, but it¡¯s a downside of the free market. As long as they stay away from VTubers, I couldn¡¯t care less about them. Their fans on the other hand¡­


    Checking my thread again, I saw that there was a new post¡ªit was about to be archived, which meant that the response would keep my thread on /vt/ for a while longer.


    [¡°This is the only picture of franciss roommate that has been posted. he is blurred but you can see the trees in the background.  They are leeland cypress and they don¡¯t grow in the north of America.¡±]


    The image posted was of what seemed to be the roommate blurred. A quick reverse search directed me to Francis¡¯s Twitter page, where it was posted. How could I have missed that? Well, anyway. The poster sounded dumb, like an ESL phone poster, but their information was good.


    Looking it up to see if anon was right, I came to see several maps of where Leyland Cypresses grow. I couldn¡¯t read them that well, but from what I could tell it was more shaded further South you go. The picture with the roommate was littered with them, meaning they were in a place where they were easy to grow. The roommate himself was blurred to the point where I couldn¡¯t tell much about him, other than that he was pale, which meant he was likely either Asian or White. Thank god for that. The place had a lot of greenery, which indicated to me also that it was someplace in the South. In the middle of nowhere maybe, since the roommate can start a fire that big without it being a danger.


    One of the maps showing where Leyland cypress trees grow.


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    I had begun to delve into the backlog of Francis¡¯s stream so I could pick up on clues that would tell me where he lived. If I knew where he lived, then I knew where the roommate lived. It was excruciating, having a DudeTuber on, but if I wanted to find the roommate and make him pay for his actions, it would have to be done. It sounds like a stupid idea, but it was the only way I could deduce where they were located. Eventually, he would give me a good clue.


    As for my plan on the road¨CI¡¯m set money-wise. My grandparents left enough for me to be on vacation for a year straight. For what I¡¯m doing, I don¡¯t need to stay in a five-star hotel every night. Anywhere with internet is good enough for me. Good enough internet to watch streams¡ªno dial-up shit. I had enough of that when I was a teenager.


    My car, also given to me by my grandparents, was enough to get by. It was nothing special, but it was perfect for what I needed. I don¡¯t drive it often, so it¡¯s still in mint condition as far as I know. Now that I think about it, I might need to get the oil changed¡­I¡¯ll deal with that when I have to. I don¡¯t remember the last time it was changed. Not like I went anywhere anyway.


    Leaving home, as you can imagine, is a huge ask for me. I don¡¯t go outside. I have no reason to. The outside world can go to hell for all I care, but it¡¯s time I respond to a bigger call and venture out. I haven¡¯t been on a vacation in a decade, and I haven¡¯t been out of the state for probably the same time. Why would I go anywhere else when I have my computer in my room? What the fuck am I going to do on the beach? I¡¯d get judged by all the whores and chads and would have a horrible time. Not like I needed the sun anyway. Sun gives you cancer, and white is right, right?


    I need to take a computer. Obviously not my PC, because how the fuck would I set that up each night? And how much space would that take in my car? I don¡¯t need that much clothes¡ªa week''s worth of shirts, pants, undies, and socks was more than enough. I could stretch that into three weeks without having to wash them. And if I don¡¯t want to I could always get some cheap white shirts and pants from some department store. Haven¡¯t been in one of those in a while¡­old people shop there so it shouldn¡¯t be too bad. Walmart or dollar stores have too many miscreants to warrant going in there.


    To avoid potentially being on the road for a prolonged amount of time, I¡¯m doing research on where the roommate lives down to the point where there are only a few spots left. The tree hint helped me a lot, but there was still a lot more research to do. Searching the entire Southeast United States would be a huge waste of time. About nine states. Almost 100 million people. Of course, the lake hint would whittle that down vastly, but there were still 13 potential lakes that were the ones that Francis and the roommate lived at. Of course, not all of those lakes were equal. Some of them are deep in the woods, which makes it almost improbable that they would be there. However, you never know, which is why they¡¯re still on the list.


    MAP OF WHERE ROOMMATE COULD BE LOCATED. RED = NO, TRANSPARENT YELLOW = DOUBTFUL.


    POSSIBLE ¡®BIG LAKES¡¯ THAT VIRTUAL YOUTUBER FRANCIS FUKUYAMA AND THE ROOMMATE LIVE BY: Clarks Hill Lake, Lake Hartwell, Lake Murray, Walter F George Lake, Lake Lanier, Lake Norman, Smith Mountain Lake, Lake Oconee, Lake Keowee, Lake Jocassee, Lake James, Blue Ridge Lake, Lake Rabun.

 Working Hard/Planning It Out

    Fast forward a few days later¨Cit was the day after their debut. I missed it due to work. Long story, but I had to stay over. Honestly, I wasn¡¯t going to watch it live anyway. Intro streams are them introducing themselves, so there¡¯s no need to catch it on-air. Well, you could say that about about every stream, but I digress.


    I was home, on the computer before work. I was on both Rex and Kinkos¡¯s Twitter and YouTube pages. They had doubled their Twitter following and YouTube sub count during that time. They finally had more YouTube subscriptions than Twitter followers, which satisfied me for some reason.


    There was an abundance of fanart flooding Twitter for both VTubers. The love was pouring in from every side of the VTuber fandom it seemed. One stream and they were already adored by all. The cynical side of me wondered how much of this love was genuine, and how much of it was ceremonial. The ritual of new waves of VTubers being introduced. They¡¯ve still only streamed once, each stream lasting exactly thirty minutes. Really, how much did you know about these tubers? Well, they¡¯re bound to have a ¡®past life¡¯, but unless you recognized their voice from something else, you wouldn¡¯t know. In that sense, we still didn¡¯t know what was in store for us. Both of their streams were introductions. Basically, them running through a PowerPoint of what hobbies/interests they have, any special skills they have, and what games/anime/manga/etc. they like. It''s a bit corporate-sounding, but in this situation, it¡¯s better to get an idea of who you¡¯re watching before the regularly scheduled streams. These were people who were granted an audience. Sounded uncharitable, but it was the fact of the matter. They had a built-in advantage. But the flip side of that was that there was a reason why they were granted the built-in advantage. AnyClover wouldn¡¯t let just anyone be one of their VTubers. It was a brutal process.


    The process for becoming an AnyClover VTuber took months. The first step, and the step that 99.9% of the applicants failed at, was the application. In order to be considered for the role, you had to fill out a Google form telling all about yourself, your skills, and what you want to bring to the fold. A short video introduction was also needed. In my opinion, the video was what mattered¨Ceverything else was perfunctory. As long as you were an adult and able to fill out a form, you could let your intro video do the talking for you. Not like I knew from experience, but who watches a VTuber because they¡¯re good at filling out forms?


    After a month or so of sorting through the applications (for companies like AnyClover, they receive thousands for each audition they hold), they select a handful of the applicants and move on to the interview process. I can¡¯t even start to imagine what questions are asked in those, but I know that there are multiple stages, which means they take that shit seriously. Just because you made it further than the 99.9% of the applicants doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re home-free. Recording a short video for your application and being grilled in an interview were two very separate things. Just thinking about it gives me anxiety, and I have no interest in even doing it! Failing at that stage would be much more painful than not being selected for the interview process at all. But you have to be in it to win it, and being pain-aversive was no way to live.


    It was only after those several rounds of interviews that the chosen ones were notified of their newfound job. But that wasn¡¯t the end of it. A thorough onboarding process was necessary. If the selected VTuber other online personas, it was usually during that time that they ceased all activity from that creative venture. It took another month or two for them to be fully prepared for their debut stream¨Cpart of me thought it was unnecessary for the process to take this long, but I didn¡¯t know the process. That would be something I would have to ask Michael about. I assumed it contained way more than just ¡®Here are the dos and don''ts of streaming for AnyClover¡¯. Along with their debut streams, Rex and Kinkos also released their ¡®debut single¡¯ last night as well. I doubt it¡¯s anything other than a generic-sounding idol-pop song, so I¡¯m not listening to it. That being said, just because the song is probably cut-and-paste doesn¡¯t mean they didn¡¯t put a ton of effort into it. Rex and Kinkos probably spent weeks perfecting their lines¨Cthat is, if they already knew how to sing. If not, AnyClover more than likely paid for them to have singing lessons, and who knows how long those would take. Even if they didn¡¯t join AnyClover to be an ¡®idol¡¯ per se, it didn¡¯t excuse them from having their own song. These people likely knew what they were getting into when they signed up. Hell, being able to release music under the AnyClover label could be the driving force behind them signing up in the first place. Anyone could release a song, but it took the backing of a proven hit-maker (in the VTuber space) like AnyClover to guarantee it would garner attention. The fans will decide if it deserves traction.


    This arduous process, if one thing, showed that AnyClover didn¡¯t just let anyone be a VTuber. Even if it seemed like they had no talent at times, they by all means had it. Being nonchalant and casual in front of thousands of people was one of them. Of the thousands that applied, at least some of them had to contain at least an ounce of talent. Not just the talent to entertain, but also to sing, dance, draw, and who knows what else. An average Joe or Jane couldn¡¯t waltz in and steal a spot from someone who deserved it. I¡¯m sure there¡¯s nepotism within the AnyClover organization, but that had to be confined to the corporate side. If it leaked over to talent I would be surprised. AnyClover were kingmakers, but you can only polish a turd so much. If someone like me somehow got in due to being Michael¡¯s roommate, the luster would wear off fast. I¡¯m sure I could maintain a hundred-viewer average to Michael¡¯s five-thousand-viewer average, but AnyClover wasn¡¯t in the game of supporting small fry. Plus I wouldn¡¯t play the game like Michael and others do, which would leave viewers with a sour taste. And I¡¯m too political in the first place. I would alienate everyone who doesn¡¯t have my specific type of neurosis.


    Michael had to know about Rex and Kinkos for months before they were announced to the wide world. Violet as well. The fact that they could keep the secret for months was impressive in its own right. Anytime they could¡¯ve told me in confidence, knowing that even if I knew the secret, I had no one to tell it to. But they didn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t care either way, but it would be one hell of a secret to know.


    All I wanted to know is if they could trade for Juliet¨CI know that¡¯s not how it works, but I¡¯d be willing to trade my next five debuting VTubers for her to come over to AnyCloverEN. If that was a no-go, then I hope Violet wouldn¡¯t mind being traded. She¡¯d get over it. Hell, she might like it better over at NijiLive¡­now that I think about it, it wouldn¡¯t directly lead me any closer to Juliet. I couldn¡¯t ask for her information through Michael, because it would immediately give up the game I was trying to play. The game I shouldn¡¯t try to play in the first place because it was a dangerous one. Hell, I haven¡¯t even logged on to Street Fighter in a week or two. So much for getting into fighting games¡­to be fair, she hasn¡¯t streamed it any, so I had no encouragement to log on.


    My idea of a ¡®VTuber Trade¡¯ would be likely laughed off at best and labeled as preposterous by others. When VTubers left groups like AnyClover, they usually left their persona as well. That persona becomes ¡®graduated¡¯, as if they stop existing the moment said VTuber stops their activities. Another similarity to idol groups. Theoretically, a VTuber could take their persona to another group and start there, but that would never happen because the rights to the model, name, and likeness belong to the company. I could always move from Hobby Lobby to the Michael¡¯s across town, but I couldn¡¯t keep wearing my Hobby Lobby vest there. That would be asinine. That comparison wasn¡¯t apples to apples, but the point is that while the person behind the VTuber was made it entertaining, the VTuber itself was the property of the company employing the person to be said VTuber. Giving up that would mean, among other things, a loss in revenue. If Michael left AnyClover and joined NijiLive, he couldn¡¯t be Francis Fukuyama anymore¨Che would have to embrace a new persona, even if it was obvious to viewers who he (formally) was. Even if his name was J. Sakai.


    Enough mulling around¨CI need to get ready for my shift.


    <hr>


    It was another boring Tuesday at work¡­most days were boring, but today was even worse than usual. We usually get a lot of business on Mondays, since we¡¯re closed on Sundays. For whatever reason, Tuesdays are slow, which brings us here. To be quite frank, it sucked that it was hard to hide in this store when there was nothing to do. You could go around the store and make displays look neater or whatever, but that got tiring after a while. And the danger of being assigned work by a higher-up was, other than being told to do someone else¡¯s job, that said assigned work could take longer than expected. If orders come in/people come to pick up their order/FedEx comes by to pick up orders/etc., I¡¯d have to abandon the task midway through, which wouldn¡¯t be a good look if I never got back to it. I could explain the situation to said manager, but that doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯ll forgive me for not finishing someone else¡¯s job. Thus, this left me to only go to one place.


    The staff men¡¯s restroom.


    I¡¯ve been here for about fifteen minutes now. No one has come by. No one has asked where I am. And no order has come in. I was left with nothing to fulfill. It was the perfect hiding place. Too perfect¨Cbeing here for an extended time, it became mind-numbing as hell, not doing anything but staring at my phone. As it was, my ass was starting to go numb as well.


    Being that this was the third time in four hours I had done this, I was all out of shit to shoot out. Trying to force something would only give me a hemorrhoid¡­although I heard that sitting excessively on a toilet could also give you one. That was something that I would worry about when it became a problem. For now, I was playing 2048 on my phone. I¡¯ve had it on my phone for about a decade now, but have only gotten back into it within the last few weeks. It¡¯s like the only game on my phone that I play. Perhaps I should get into a gacha game¡­


    I was at 512, only two steps from the prized 2048 block. I had gotten it in the past, but I hadn¡¯t gotten it in the last two weeks that I¡¯ve been back playing. I had a feeling that I was about to lose this game. I only had two spaces left and no way to connect the two 256 blocks. I was going to have to try my luck¡­here goes nothing.


    ¡­


    Well, I was within a thousand points of beating my high score. A far cry from obtaining an actual 2048 block, but an okay game¡­okay, it was probably a bad game. I did better when I was playing in high school. I had forgotten whatever tricks I used back then to ¡®win¡¯ 2048, which led me to swipe around indiscriminately while playing. Wonder what the meta on 2048 was these days, if it had even changed in the decade since I ¡®got good¡¯ at it for a bit.


    Letting out a deep sigh, I got off the toilet and preformately flushed it. Now time to wash my hands before getting back to ¡®work¡¯. Even if I technically didn¡¯t shit or piss, it would be gross to go out without cleaning my hands. I never understood why so many men refused to wash their hands after peeing. I understood the process of drying your hands was annoying, but it sure beat having shit particles on your fingernail or being known as a man who doesn¡¯t wash his hands in public settings. It was barbaric along with being nasty.


    While washing my hands, I felt my phone buzzing¡­of course, it would go off now. Whatever (or whoever) it was, it would have to wait until I dried my hands.


    Upon grabbing what seemed like half a roll of paper towels, I held up my phone and turned on my screen. The notification was from Discord.


    [¡°what size canvas do you have at ur work¡±]


    It was Michael, asking about what kinds of canvas we sold¡­what a ridiculous question. There were too many to account for, and I wasn¡¯t going to waste my time counting them all up for him.


    [¡°Check online¡±]


    It sounded harsh, but it was his best bet. I contemplated taking a picture of the section and sending it to him, but that wouldn¡¯t help either.


    [¡°yeah i could but there¡¯s no telling if it¡¯s actually there¡±] Actually there is¡­or was there? I didn¡¯t go on Hobby Lobby¡¯s website often, so I had no idea if they had a function to show current inventory.


    [¡°What size canvas do you want?]


    Being pointlessly obtuse was something that came easy to me, but there wasn¡¯t a reason to be a jackass right now. Especially since I still had nothing to do.


    [¡°idk¡±]


    Thanks¨Cthat helps a lot, asshole.


    [¡°I¡¯m assuming this is for a stream, so something on the smaller side would be best. With the way you have to position your cameras and all.¡±]


    It was his call, but I highly doubted that a large canvas would work well on stream¡­come to think of it, didn¡¯t he already have one? He bought a lot of shit when he previously came here a few months ago, he had to buy a canvas along with all that paint.


    [¡°Didn¡¯t you get a canvas when you came by here that one time?¡±]


    [¡°no??? i got a lot of paint and that ford that you really wanted me to put together on stream¡±]


    [¡°Huh, must¡¯ve been mistaken¡±] This conversation was going nowhere¡­ [¡°Btw, it¡¯s a Chevy.¡±] Sorry, had to correct him.


    [¡°whatever¡­but yea, a canvas on the smaller size would be preferred. soemthing that can fit on my desk¡±]


    By this time, I was out of the restroom and back on the sales floor. Thankfully, the canvas aisle was near the back, so the walk was brief. It only took a few seconds to find one that was appropriate for whatever Michael was planning to do on stream.


    [¡°We have several canvases that would work.¡±]


    [¡°cool¡­btw, when do u get off work?¡±]


    [¡°8.¡±] I was working till close, which thankfully wasn¡¯t that late here.


    [¡°damn¡­my stream is supposed to start at 7¡­is there a way i could get it faster?¡±]


    [¡°Well, you could come here and buy it yourself.¡±]


    [¡°no, not like that.¡±] Then what the fuck do you mean?


    [¡°You¡¯re going to have to come yourself, since we don¡¯t do delivery apps.¡±] Hobby Lobby was a weird company in the way that they didn¡¯t do business with DoorDash or any of the thousand delivery apps. All of my duties were served either towards shipping merchandise out to customers all across the United States or preparing a BOPIS (Buy Online Pickup In-Store) order. So technically, Michael could order a canvas he wants, and there¡¯s a chance that I¡¯m the one that fulfills that order and FedEx picks it up, taking one to three days what my roommate could pick up in under an hour if he stopped being so damn lazy.


    [¡°well¡­i really dont want to go¡­¡±]


    [¡°Can¡¯t you just move your stream back?¡±]


    I had no idea what his hangup was about going outside, but it was starting to get on my nerves. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time he moved his stream back¡­if his fans knew that he was postponing a stream because he was afraid to buy something¡­


    Thinking about it, the price of a small canvas couldn¡¯t be that expensive¡­wow! Under five dollars? That¡¯s a good deal.


    Getting back on my phone, I told Michael about my new proposal:


    [¡°How about you buy one through pick up and i bring it home for you? I¡¯ll be back by 8:30, so you can push your stream back until then. Shouldn¡¯t be too long of a postponement.¡±]


    It was a pretty fool-proof idea. It gave Michael what he really wanted, which was to not step one foot outside, and it avoided me having to do any extra work, besides taking said canvas home. There was no one to lecture me about how it was unethical to take someone else¡¯s order home.


    [¡°yeah that¡¯s a great idea. Lets do that¡±]


    I¡¯m sure he was glad that we finally agreed on something. Sometimes it¡¯s like pulling teeth talking to him.


    <hr>


    After making the rounds in the store, I got a ding from Michael.


    [¡°just put in my order¡±]


    As soon as I read that, I got another ding from my ZEBRA device. Opening the Fulfillment app, I saw that his order had already dropped in. Nice.


    I shot him a picture of my ZEBRA and said [¡°Got it¡±]. This won¡¯t take a second.


    Grabbing a simple 9¡±x12¡± canvas that he ordered, I walked to the back to put it in a bag and staple his receipt to it.


    Walking back to the BOPIS counter up front, there was only one register open. Damon was on it.


    ¡°Yo, you finally got an order Johnny?¡±


    ¡°Eh, this canvas for my roommate. He just put the order in.¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t he bring his ass in here and buy it himself?¡±


    ¡°Heh, he¡¯s a homebody so he never goes out.¡± I¡¯ll be honest, Damon cursing in the front of the store that loud got me good. If you¡¯ve read this far, you know by now that I don¡¯t mind yelling obscenities whenever I hurt myself. But it¡¯s good to be on the hearing end of it for once. Damon was probably barely 18, and was only able to work after four on school days because he was still in high school. I don¡¯t know why, but he put maximum effort into this job. About a month ago, I saw him one Saturday at work early in the morning painting a random wall in the back. Instead of hiring a company, our store manager decided to pay Damon $14 an hour to paint a wall white. Damon didn¡¯t seem to mind. He was having fun for all I knew.


    ¡°Does he have a job or something?¡±


    ¡°Uhh,¡± How do I say this in the shortest amount of time¡­ ¡°...he has a work-from-home job.¡±


    ¡°Huh, good for him.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess.¡± Damon didn¡¯t seem the type of person to know what a ¡®VTuber¡¯ was, so there was no point going down that rabbit hole. Michael technically did have a ¡®work-from-home¡¯ job, so I wasn¡¯t lying. I was just glad that he wasn¡¯t inquiring further.


    The total came to $4.27, after tax. It really was a good deal.


    With my work done for the moment, I decided to walk to the back again.


    Declining a fourth visit to the toilet, I decided to brew a new pot of coffee. There was barely enough coffee in the pot for one 6-ounce styrofoam cup. Never mind the fact that the coffee would be cold by now, it was time for it to be thrown out.


    This coffee maker did not use pods to make coffee unlike the one back at home. It was a commercial-grade coffee maker that was meant to be used in a break room. In total, you could have twelve cups of coffee brewed, if you counted the burner on top that could hold a second pot. That pot was never filled with coffee, only being used to pour more water into the coffee pot. Well, at least that¡¯s what I did when I brewed a new pot of coffee.


    It was surprising that Hobby Lobby had a coffee maker this impressive. At all other retail jobs I had, our brewer was the same as the one I had back home. A basic pod-based coffee maker. It brewed coffee good enough, but it always wasn¡¯t my first choice. Most of the times, the only pods available were ones on clearance and tasted like dirt. There was also ¡®Breakfast Blend¡¯, which was a light blend, inoffensive to the stomach, that was common in breakrooms. That was also what most people took, which meant it was first choice at all times. In comparison, we only had ¡®COFFEE¡¯ flavor, which¡­tasted exactly like coffee. Nothing special, which was a good thing. With some creamer and water to cool it off, the coffee would be more than good enough tasting to slurp down quickly. Remember, we¡¯re still on the clock. No slacking! If you have time to sip, then you have time to ship! There wasn¡¯t anything to ship at the moment, but managers can¡¯t read.


    This was my first time changing the coffee maker today. It was only something that needed to be done once per shift.


    The process was simple when it was all said and done. Sure, it was a bit more messy, but the end result made up for the extra time it took. Not to mention that you can pour your coffee out of the pot and not have to rely on a machine to pour the amount you wanted. With the styrofoam cups, it wasn¡¯t possible to pour more than 4 ounces of coffee, unless if I wanted to forgo water, creamer, or sugar.


    I poured my 4 ounces, and got 2 more from the sink. After that, I poured a tiny amount of sugar and creamer into my cup. The brand was ¡®N¡¯ JOY¡¯, which was a brand that I¡¯ve only seen in break rooms. They both were in a circular tin can, sugar having a red gradient, while creamer had a blue one. We had about a case of both on standby, in case we ever ran out. Not that we would¡ªanother case of both would arrive long before we would need it.


    Next, I needed to stir my coffee together so it would mix. I pulled out the drawer labeled ¡®UTENSILS¡¯ and looked for a plastic spoon¡­nope, no spoons available. I settled on a plastic fork. To be quite honest, I didn¡¯t know if there was any difference between using a fork and a spoon to stir liquid up. In my opinion, the fork is probably somewhat better at it. Who knows. I just wish Hobby Lobby was as on top of stocking utensils as they were of ¡®N¡¯ JOY¡¯ products.


    It took only a few seconds to finish stirring. I made sure not to pour too much sugar so that it wouldn¡¯t be too sweet to drink. I also knew that putting too much creamer in the cup could make it where one or multiple clumps of creamer float on the top. That was always annoying when that happened because that meant that you were stuck with it. It was almost always impossible to unclump it. Even if you broke it apart, it would still be two small clumps of creamer. It would be very easy to fall into this trap pouring into a small cup, so I kept it on the light side this time. The color of the coffee was a darker brown than the way I usually take it. At home, I use milk instead of creamer. You don¡¯t have to mix that, which lends me to pouring a bit too much at times.


    As far as snacks, I didn¡¯t have any. My actual break was in an hour¨Cit was pretty late into my shift, all things considered. There were multiple fast food restaurants within walking distance and even a dollar store, but of course, I couldn¡¯t get away with walking there while not on break¡­when it was moderately busy. Today, I could probably get away with it if I was quick enough. I typically don¡¯t care for the vibe of the dollar store nearby, but beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers in this case. I just hoped that there wasn¡¯t a line at the register.


    One step into my journey to the dollar store, I got a ring¡­of course I did. Well, at least it wasn¡¯t a pick. My sigh only got more exaggerated when I saw the message.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    [¡°wait nvm im coming to get it¡±]


    Even though his stream didn¡¯t start for a while, he was going to pick up his canvas. I didn¡¯t care either way, I just hoped he wouldn¡¯t change his mind again.


    Right as I sent my response of [¡°Ok¡±], I heard the sound of the door creaking open.


    ¡°I knew you were in here not doin¡¯ no work!¡±


    Holding in my sigh, I turned around and faced Susan. I don¡¯t know why, but old coworkers tended to loved picking on younger coworkers, instead of saying something like ¡°Hey¡± or ¡°How¡¯s it going¡±. I found it mildly irritating, especially in this case since all Susan does is stand at the register. That being said, going along with it was easier than being anti-social.


    ¡°Well shoot, there isn¡¯t anything to be done!¡± I shot back. I mean, there wasn¡¯t.


    Susan slowly shuffled to an open seat, which was all of them at the moment. When she finally sat down, she turned her head towards me and said ¡°Well I guess you ain¡¯t wrong there.¡±


    To be frank, I hated being in these situations. You probably understand. I really had nothing to talk about with her. Maybe I could ask her if it has been busy up front? Maybe I could¡­


    ¡°...Excuse me¡­¡±


    Another co-worker, Paul, walked in the break room. Paul was another younger co-worker¨Che was probably around 19 or 20 if I had to guess.


    Paul was quite the unique specimen, to say the least¡­not that he was an idiot or anything, but he always had his head in the clouds. Like his mind was on something else. Quite unfitting for a ¡®Paul¡¯, to be honest. Well, when I thought of the name ¡®Paul¡¯, I usually thought of someone older.


    What was even funnier was that his name was Paul Tracy. Not kidding. Paul fucking Tracy. I asked him once if he knew that he shared a name with an (in)famous CARTer, and I kid you not, he said back to me ¡®Oh? What¡¯s his name?¡¯.


    Paul was currently in school for Engineering. Electrical Engineering if I remember correctly. Engineering, at least to my knowledge, required a lot more thought and practice than most other degrees. Much more than Political Science¨Cone of the only good things about not going to school for Engineering was that I had more free time.


    Paul was my right-hand man. He was the most reliable co-worker I had when it came to fulfillment. I don¡¯t know how he did it, but he was the fastest at picking items. It was amazing because he didn¡¯t partially look like he was in a hurry when he was on a pickwalk. In fact, he often looked like he was lazing around, avoiding doing work. This was mirrored in the slow-mannered way he talked in. Like he wasn¡¯t sure about what he was going to say. Either way, he was good at his job. He also knew about football more than me, so we could always talk Clemson.


    ¡°Well, aren¡¯cha gonna get to work?¡±


    That was from Susan, who was sitting down, sipping on what I presumed to be coffee.


    ¡°...Yeah¡­There¡¯s not much work to be done¡­¡± He didn¡¯t have an angry tone, which is surprising considering how often the two work together. I¡¯m not sure if he knows any other way to take her other than literally.


    ¡°Must be nice.¡±


    Paul ignored Susan¡¯s sarcastic tone. Good, since I didn¡¯t really want to hear her talk much more. If you gave her a reason to complain about, by god she was going to complain about it.


    ¡°Man, why do they got the two of us scheduled?¡±


    I shook my head, ¡°I have no clue.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s sooo boring man¡­¡± He seemed somewhat disappointed that he wasn¡¯t able to do some pick walks.


    ¡°You could always go on the register. We could use some extra help.¡± Susan found an opportunity to butt into our conversation¡­should¡¯ve expected that.


    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good¡­¡± He thankfully shut down any conversation about this. I don¡¯t know if he had any reservations against cashiering¨Cthe problem would be being with her. Talk about a nightmare.


    Susan didn¡¯t have much response to his rejection. She knew there was no hope¨Cmaybe if she wasn¡¯t so annoying she wouldn¡¯t have this problem.


    <hr>


    Fast forward twenty minutes¨CI was sipping on a second cup of coffee. I didn¡¯t put any sugar or creamer in it this time. Just water.


    ¡°Is that any good?¡± Asked Paul.


    ¡°Nah. Tastes like shit.¡±


    That took Paul by surprise. Apparently, he doesn¡¯t think I curse that much. Susan was out of the room, so there wasn¡¯t anyone to get mad at me.


    ¡°Yeah, I bet it does.¡± He took a look at my styrofoam cup and made a disgusted face. I assumed he was more into energy drinks.


    *RING RING*


    It was that phone again. The one I carried when I was on dispense duty. I picked up the phone and read the number. It looked familiar, but that was only because it had the same area code and first three numbers as I did. That was not uncommon in this area¡­maybe it was common everywhere. Who knows.


    Anyway, I reluctantly answered the phone.


    ¡°Hobby Lobby Online Pickup, this is John speaking.¡±


    ¡°...uh¡­hey man¡­¡±


    It was who know who. Here for you know what.


    ¡°And what¡¯s your name sir?¡± I wasn¡¯t going to let him off easy for pulling me around like this.


    ¡°...uh¡­Michael?¡± It took him a few good seconds to respond. He gave enough information to identify who he was, and what he ordered¨Ckeep in mind this was merely a formality. I could be an even bigger dickhead and ask for his last name, but it would be unnecessary. There was only one more thing to ask.


    ¡°And what bay are you in sir?¡± This question was more than likely unnecessary since rarely more than one person came at a time. There were only two bays¨Cif the other bay was taken, it was more than likely because someone used it as a regular parking place.


    ¡°...bay one.¡± He again took a few seconds to answer. I guess I made him too nervous. Serves him right for calling me. The very thought of this phone ringing gives me anxiety.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have that right out to you sir.¡± I was dragging it out at this point. In my defense, I was merely doing my job by the book. Also, this was the last thing I had to say, so this charade would be over soon.


    ¡°...¡± Michael hung up after that. Understandable.


    ¡°Is there a customer out there?¡± Paul seemed interested in my phone call for whatever reason.


    ¡°Yeah, it was a customer that arrived.¡±


    ¡°I can take it out to them.¡± He was already standing up.


    ¡°Uh¡­okay¡­¡± I nodded towards him, ¡°They¡¯re in bay one.¡±


    ¡°Alright, thanks.¡± Paul started towards the door.


    Watching him go out the door, I took another sip of my coffee¡­yep, still terrible. More drinkable though, due to it being lukewarm now.


    As soon as Paul went out the door, he came back and asked me a question:


    ¡°What¡¯s the guy¡¯s name?¡±


    ¡°...Francis¡±


    <hr>


    Man, I really wanted some Skittles.


    One of the good things about working here was that there were vending machines out front. Two of them. One had soda and Gatorade, and the other one had snacks. The only thing that sucked was that I often had to have a reason to go outside. Otherwise, I would risk getting caught ¡®hiding¡¯, while all I wanted was to buy something.


    There were a lot of hardasses that worked for this place. That had to be a given since this place was very religious. My church was like that. I love God and all of that, but they really took it very seriously.


    This job was alright, but it wasn¡¯t what I wanted to do forever. That was why I was in school.


    I had this canvas-looking thing in my hand. It was in a regular-size bag, kinda sticking out at the end. Let me check to make sure it was actually a canvas¡­yep, it was. There was also a piece of paper sticking out. I assumed that was the receipt, which was printed on an entire sheet of paper.


    Getting from the back to the front took not that long. The only obstacle was customers, who could stop you on a dime. Many customers did not know the difference between a stocker and a cashier, or someone like me, who does fulfillment. Most questions were simple, like ¡®Where¡¯s this?¡¯, or ¡®Where¡¯s the restroom?¡¯. For the former, I could search it up on the handheld I get from here. It isn¡¯t 100%, but it¡¯s reliable. If that doesn¡¯t work, then I could always use my phone. The store app is just as useful as the employee one. As for the latter, I point in the direction of the back-right of the store.


    I was at the front of the store. That old bitch Susan was staring daggers at me from the registers. Of course, she was. All she does is complain.


    I lifted the bag up to show her why I was going out front. As if I needed her permission anyway. Bitch has been here a million years and has the same ranking I do.


    I remember a few months ago when she got on to me for having an earpod in while on the floor. She was trying to get me in trouble, even though it says in the rules that it¡¯s okay to have one earbud in. As long as it doesn¡¯t get in the way of my work, which it doesn¡¯t. It helps me concentrate. She¡¯s not even my boss!


    Right now, I was listening to Future. His album with Lil Uzi Vert. I don¡¯t know why, but I loved listening to it at work. I only had one earpod in because that was all I had. I¡¯ve had these for about a year and a half now, but I¡¯ve lost my left one for about a year now. I¡¯ve become so accustomed to using these at work that it normally doesn¡¯t matter that I only have one pod. It was a problem at the gym, however.


    Like gyms, the music they played at retail stores was usually wack. There were some good songs played rarely, but most of the time it was boring shit like Taylor Swift. There isn¡¯t a radio playing here, so whatever I play is the only thing playing into my ear. One more perk of working here. Not like this place would play Future anyway. They¡¯d only play gospel.


    Walking outside, I immediately felt the heat. There was a breezeway between the front door and¡­the other front door¡­it was hard to explain, but the front door there¡­well there are two front doors¡­so yeah, once you were in that breezeway, you could get at least a feel of how it felt outside. It wasn¡¯t hot as fuck


    Once you got out here¡­yeah. You felt it. It was why I was wearing shorts. Since I was on dispense duty, I could wear shorts. I preferred wearing shorts to pants, so I always abused this loophole whenever I could. I even did it a lot during Winter. My legs being cold don¡¯t bother me as much as my arms. It was a good 95 degrees outside if my guesstimation was right. That, combined with the asphalt reflecting the sun, unblocked by clouds, made it like stepping on solid lava. One slip-up, and I would be on some very hot shit. Maybe not that hot to leave a lasting impression, but I don¡¯t want to find out.


    All this thought was wearing me out. What was I going to get¡­well, of course, Gatorade. I gotta replenish myself. It¡¯s a staple. And it¡¯s also in the vending machine to the right. But first, I have to give this canvas.


    I saw the car the customer was in. It looked like it had not been washed in ten years. There was so much dust and pollen on it that I was afraid to get close to it. It might make me start sneezing.


    Forwards, I march on. The man lowers his window slowly. An Asian customer. I don¡¯t see those much often. Much more at school.


    ¡°Pickup for¡­¡±, oh shit, what was the name?...Oh!


    ¡°M-¡± ¡°Francis!¡±


    The guy suddenly stopped what he was going to say, and then looked at me stunned. Like I said something I shouldn¡¯t have¨Cor like if he shit his pants.


    ¡°Y-yes.¡±


    This guy was getting all bashful now for whatever reason. I handed him his shit so he could go. He was getting on my nerves, acting weird.


    Now onto the real reason for being here¨Cvending machines here I come.


    <hr>


    ¡°Wait, so that guy was your roommate?¡± Paul looked kind of stunned at me.


    ¡°Yeah¡­it¡¯s a bit of a weird situation¡­¡± anything involving Michael is a weird situation, ¡°he needs it for his job.¡± I wasn¡¯t lying¡­even though I probably gave out too much information.


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡± I don¡¯t know why, but Paul came back in a more sour mood than when he left. Even with his Skittles and red Gatorade in hand. Well, at least Michael can start his stream on time now.


    <hr>


    My plan originally for the roommate was to erase him from existence. You know, kill him. That¡¯s what he deserves after all, for trying to turn Juliet into a whore. It¡¯s the best punishment since it¡¯s the only permanent one. The more I thought about it however, the least likely it was feasible. The killing would be the easy part. I assume it would be. I don¡¯t have a gun, but it would be easy to buy a knife. Then all I¡¯d have to do is stab him in his jugular. Or in his heart. Or behind his back. Wherever he was open. Ideally, I would get it done in one joust, but if needed I would stab his stomach as many times as possible. The hard part is what I do afterward. Hide his body? Leave it there? Throw it into the ditch or river? Put it into the woodchipper? There were a million ways I could go at disposing of a body, but the problem is that most, if not all, of them would eventually lead back to me. I also have no idea what he looks like. He could be a landwhale that couldn¡¯t even fit in the trunk of my late grandfather¡¯s vehicle. Dragging a fat fuck while his 600 pounds of blood and guts spill out of his pathetic being only to find out that his fupa needs to be retucked into his pants so he can slide on in. That was if he was a lardass. Odds are he was in shape if he was confident enough to talk to Violet and Juliet. He isn¡¯t a chad if he plays video games that much, but he is somewhat there. Disposing of his body without leaving a trace of my own is almost impossible. First, consider that I have to kill him without anyone noticing first. That means striking him by surprise when no one else is around to notice. That situation could happen at his workplace if he has a job. At his home, it depends on how close he is to Francis, and how often he goes outside. Any time he¡¯s by himself is a good time. No witnesses. Getting away with it becomes exponentially harder once you have to clear two bodies.


    That was all in my head. Dreaming of situations where I pop up and kill the roommate was satisfying, but that¡¯s escapism. I¡¯ve lived my life escaping modern society, staying in my corner with my anime and games while the world, rotten to the core always, flies past me. I say enough! Enough of having my world, how little it is, being taken away from me. Enough! I¡¯ve been pushed off the edge, and have been provoked to retaliate. Killing the roommate, no matter how much he deserves it, isn¡¯t the right punishment in this situation, however. It would only satisfy my id. It wouldn¡¯t send the message I wanted¨Cthere was also the chance he could be turned into a martyr. A martyr for whoring women up! That, and typically people who are on death row aren¡¯t executed immediately. I know that¡¯s due to appeals and that junk, but also, I believe that delaying an execution gives the doomed person time to sit and think about what they done. Sure, most death row inmates are mental retards or mentally insane, but ones more lucid, they sit and suffer for their wrongdoing. And that¡¯s what I want to bring to the roommate. Not a final solution, but his everlasting suffering.


    Like how I have suffered for years, it is his time. An easy death is not suitable, he needs to know how his actions make others feel. Being all chummy with Juliet, poisoning the chalice with his words. Enough! He will pay! He will pay for the crimes of all like him. Punishing every whore-maker is impossible, but punishing him should send a message. Do not talk to pure VTubers if you are a man. Somewhere down the line, it became okay for corporate VTubers to talk to men. I don¡¯t blame VTubers like Juliet for this happening, complacency on the business side leads this to being the norm. Years ago, when VTubing was still a new thing, we didn¡¯t have to deal with DudeTubers and their ilk infiltrating. It was bliss¨CCOVID was a wonderful thing. Killing off whores and whore-enablers and forcing others to stay inside for a change. It also led to many more VTubers debuting. It was great, but that period only lasted a year. Now, this is the situation. My retaliation, if successful, will bring this to light and force management to step in and revert to how things should be. Even if it isn¡¯t, it¡¯ll teach the roommate to never try to weasel his way into VTuber¡¯s lives. Hopefully, the blowback from that will enforce a new standard.


    Now, how would I go across enacting his suffering? Torture is what he deserves, but I¡¯m not a monster. No, even if I fantasize about it and really want to do it, I won¡¯t. Moralfaggotry aside, the payoff of it would diminish over time. My joy of seeing his pain, inflicting what he and others have done upon me, won¡¯t properly prove the point I¡¯m making. Crucifying him, burning him at the stake, the guillotine, or anything to the effect of that would only be for me. It would be impossible to livestream it without the feds taking it down. Pictures might do it, but then the issue would be remaining anonymous. The EXIF data would have to be scrubbed. I¡¯m not trying to get myself killed here. I¡¯m not there yet. To be honest, I don¡¯t think I have the gumption to go full kamikaze.


    Rounding down the options, the most effective punishment would be something permanent and debilitating, but not death-inducing. The roommate needs to be a reminder. A walking warning. How could we do that? I have some brass knuckles that my grandfather left when he died. I could swing on him a good few times and give him a concussion. If I swing too hard, however, I could kill him. I¡¯ve never punched anyone before, so I don¡¯t know how much force I need. If I could give him CTE or a brain injury, it would not be enough. Not enough for him. Plus, there¡¯s always a chance of it looking like he was a victim of random crime. I need to make it clear it was on purpose while not giving away who I am. Maybe I need to leave a note as well¡­no, that¡¯s too Reddit. Would make me sound gay and give off a fingerprint most likely. Hitting him with a baseball bat would be funnier, but would provide the same result. Also the chance that I miss, or I hit him, but he comes back up a few minutes later with no permanent injuries.


    Firebombing him came across my mind next. Being able to successfully douse him with gasoline and then light him on fire would leave him with severe burns all across his body even if he was saved. The scars would be a permanent reminder¨Cnot that his photos would be posted in the VTuber community, but word would eventually get around about it. Something of that magnitude would have to be talked about, and the news would report about it. At that point, people would put two and two together. Immolating someone isn¡¯t a random act like hitting him. There¡¯s a chance he could die, but odds are that he could stop, drop, and roll in time before it gets terminal. I¡¯m looking to maximize his suffering, I don¡¯t want him to die right there. I won¡¯t help him if he¡¯s too retarded to get on the ground, however.


    Poisoning him¡­well, that would kill him, but what about an acid attack? An acid attack¡­


    Thinking about it, it was the best way to enact my revenge. Throwing it on him would be all I have to do. I could take off and get away without having to pick up anything. Only the cup I¡¯d have the acid in. That would have my fingerprints on it so I¡¯d have to keep it anyway.


    I could do an acid attack anywhere. Like with every other proposal, it all had to do with entering a window of opportunity and exiting before it closed. With every other option, either that window was too small or there were too many variables that couldn¡¯t be controlled. With acid, all I had to worry about was the chance that it would splash on me. Wearing gloves might defend against it. I would have to make sure the cup was emptied before running with it.


    The scenario I was imagining played out as follows: I walk up to the front door of Francis and the roommate¡¯s house. I knock on the door. The roommate answers. I ask him ¡®Are you the roommate?¡¯. During his answer, I throw the acid on his face. Preferably it hits his eyes, blinding him. He falls onto the ground and starts flailing, not knowing what¡¯s just happened. I say nothing, merely staring at him. I take a single photo of him in intense pain as a keepsake and as a reminder. I then leave.


    Of course, it won¡¯t go down that smoothly. I¡¯m not retarded, I know this. First, Francis was bound to be there, so I couldn¡¯t be sure if he would or would not hear the roommate¡¯s screams. I didn¡¯t know the floorplan of their house. He could easily be within earshot of a scream, especially in an echoing house. Hopefully, Francis has enough noise-canceling foam to muffle them. There¡¯s also the neighbor issue. The picture that Francis posted of the roommate starting a fire indicates that they live somewhere innawoods. That being said, that didn¡¯t mean that neighbors wouldn¡¯t be a problem. The trees could be the border of their yard¨Cthey could be behind a gas station for all I know. Could be right beside a park next to a town. My research into his location still hasn¡¯t come to that point.


    <hr>


    This was torture.


    I was watching one of Francis¡¯s stream¨Cafter the picture was shown, I discovered that if I want to find information about the roommate, the man living with him might be the place to go to. Watching a DudeTuber is the last thing I want to do, but it¡¯s what I have to do.


    I had been watching him for the last week. All of his backlog. There is one thing I have noticed he sips his tea when his chat is moving slow


    Currently, I was watching a stream of him painting a tree house for Kotori Horii¨Cas her last name (first name in Japanese culture) implied, she was not worth thinking about. Put on a pure face, but beneath it all, she was a whore. Anyone with a brain already knew that. That was neither here nor there.


    These types of streams were the best for gathering info on the roommate. Gaming streams, he wouldn¡¯t hardly read the chat. It¡¯s understandable why¨Cthe last thing you want to do when playing an FPS or an ASSFAGGOT is get distracted. The chat was a cesspit to begin with. With streams like these¨C¡¯interactive streams¡¯ as they were sometimes called¨CFrancis could easily chat with viewers while doing whatever dumb gay shit he was doing.


    Francis kept referring to it as a ¡®Duplex Treehouse¡¯, which made sense since it had three-entrance ways, much like how Kotori takes dicks three at a time but still contends on being ¡®pure¡¯. I bet she skis with the unhoused dicks. What happened to shame?


    I was an about an hour in when I heard some information that made my search easier:


    ¡°[...] the funny thing is that I got this for like half-off, and I got even more off with roomie¡¯s discount!¡±


    I stopped the breaks. Roomie¡¯s discount? Unless if he was a senior citizen (he wasn¡¯t) or a valued cardholder at the place Francis bought the whorehouse (doubtful), this meant that he worked at that establishment.


    Now, who sells a ¡®Duplex Treehouse¡¯...typing it in on Google, the first fifteen or so results were about vacation homes that were dubbed ¡®treehouses¡¯. Some outdoorsy shit for normies. I finally got to treehouses meant for birds, which yielded results not matching the whorehouse Francis has.


    It took going to the ¡®Shopping¡¯ tab for it to pop up.


    ¡®DUPLEX TREEHOUSE¡¯ *ON SALE*


    It was the treehouse. Sorry, whorehouse. Either way, it was it. On the Hobby Lobby site. I¡¯ve never been to a Hobby Lobby in my life, but I know that they¡¯re an arts and crafts store whose owners are heavily Christian. Even though I¡¯m an atheist, I find most of what they do and believe in to be based. They respect traditional values.


    Honestly, I didn¡¯t expect it to be this easy to find where the roommate works. Seems too easy. A slip-up on Francis¡¯s part to give away that much information. God damn. Then again, I spent around twenty hours watching these streams in the last two days. There was a chance that I missed another, bigger clue. Truth be told, they were hard to watch. Any DudeTuber was. It was painful, but at a point, he blended into the background. That meant I wasn¡¯t paying attention enough, but could you blame me?


    Reeling my expectations back in, I searched up the number of Hobby Lobby locations¡­there were near a thousand. Yes, being limited to the southeast narrowed the amount of locations the roommate could be to probably a few hundred. ¡®The South¡¯ had to be Hobby Lobby¡¯s biggest customer-base, since gawd and all of that.


    In order to whittle down the locations, some intense googling will have to take place to see how far each lake is from a Hobby Lobby location. There¡¯s subjectivity in searching that, but what it does do is establish how remote each lake is. And there¡¯s also the possibility that there¡¯s a populous lake that doesn¡¯t have a Hobby Lobby anywhere near it. Many variables. I¡¯ll have to do the research in order to know.


    <hr>


    Clarks Hill Lake, Lake Hartwell, Lake Murray, Walter F George Lake, Lake Lanier, Lake Norman, Smith Mountain Lake, Lake Oconee, Lake Keowee, Lake Jocassee, Lake James, Blue Ridge Lake, Lake Rabun


    GREEN LAKES: Hobby Lobby is a close (<20 minutes) drive to the lake.


    YELLOW LAKES: Hobby Lobby is a somewhat far away (20-40 minutes) drive to the lake.


    RED LAKES: Hobby Lobby is a far away (>40 minutes) drive to the lake.


    Hobby Lobby¡¯s near green lakes will be a top priority. Ones near yellow lakes will be disregarded for the time being, along with the red ones, which will be discarded forever, due to the insurmountable length of drive to justify working there.


    Lake Hartwell and Lake Keowee are on top of one another, which essentially makes them one since they are both close to the same Hobby Lobby. Several of them in fact. As it stands the hot spot is the Carolinas. Almost all of the green lakes are either in North or South Carolina. One was in Georgia, so I had to keep that area in mind as well. But my focus was to the east.


    Moving on, in order to establish which Hobby Lobby¡¯s I might need to stake out in the future, I will also need to dive deeper and build a list of Hobby Lobby¡¯s that the roommate may be working at.


    A map of Hobby Lobby locations superimposed on a map of the southeastern United States. The green zones are areas where The Roommate is most likely located. The green zones aren''t exact, but it helps me a lot. There are four zones: One in North Carolina, two in South Carolina, and one in Georgia.


    With this, my search is becoming close to being completed. Better count your days fucker.

 Car Trouble/Hook, Line, and Sinker

    I was up bright and early¨Cat 8 AM. Bright and early, for me at least. I¡¯ve never been a morning person. Ever since it wasn¡¯t required of me to get up that early, I haven¡¯t. It was the gamer in me.


    I had to be at work at 10 AM today. I usually got up two hours before a shift to give myself enough time to prepare for the day. That often included taking a shower, eating breakfast, and brushing my teeth, among other things.


    One thing that stunk about working at a place like Hobby Lobby was that my shifts were inconsistent. One day I could close, and the next I could open. In my position, that doesn¡¯t mean much change, other than there usually being a backlist of orders to fulfill if I come in the morning. Most of them were to be shipped out, only a few orders being curbside pickup. It¡¯s not like I had a wife and children to worry about¨Cthe only person this wishy-washy schedule affected was me.


    On most days there were about twenty orders in the queue. It all depended on how many other people were working in fulfillment, or what kind of traffic was to be expected. During holidays, the increased workload was offset by more people being scheduled. Hobby Lobby, compared to other retail stores I¡¯ve worked for, is pretty good about not overextending its employees. It¡¯s a welcome change.


    Given that this was in the middle of the summer, my expected workload today was going to be lower than average. Not completely dead, like in the middle of January, but with a rather low foot traffic, as is with most weekdays. There would be senior citizens (and other people with nothing better to do) that show up right before the store opens, which usually gives us a good amount of our foot traffic at the outset. I swore sometimes they were bussed in. Usually not more than a dozen, but they all stand next to the door, waiting for the store to open. Anyway, I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about that, since they would¡¯ve been admitted an hour ago by the time I parked. If I¡¯m lucky, they would be mostly done shopping by now. The next rush would be after 5 PM. That ¡®rush¡¯, if you could call it that, would lead to steady traffic, not like the stampede of geriatrics that bang down the doors every morning. That would calm down by 6 PM.


    While most parts of Michael¡¯s job were undesirable, the ability to make your schedule was a great positive. Better yet, the ability to make your schedule and not be held accountable if you¡¯re late. I¡¯m sure there are those on imageboards and in the Twitter comments that bitch and moan about it, but they don¡¯t matter in the slightest. The silent majority doesn¡¯t care.


    The typical ¡®shift¡¯ for a VTuber could be anywhere between two to four hours, with streams being as short as forty-five minutes and as long as twelve hours. The former tended to be specialized streams (ASMR and ¡®announcement streams¡¯), while the latter were either regular gaming streams that turned into a marathon session, a ¡®Birthday Stream¡¯ (which was when a VTuber streamed on their birthday (duh)¡ªactivities galore with coworkers popping in and multiple games played throughout), and charity streams. No matter the length of the stream, the final say fell on the VTuber. Their manager did a lot of stuff on the backend, but the schedule was decided by the streamer. Unless if it was a sponsorship stream that corporate hoisted on the VTuber. Those streams tended to cap out at an hour, which I assume was the allotted time the sponsored company paid for. Also, there were games that were no-gos due to licensing (I assumed), but that was only a short list of games.


    Working from home, at least conceptually, sounds like a dream for me. It would make my commute way shorter. From twenty-five minutes from home to work to twenty-five steps from bed to computer. And that included steps to the toilet first!


    The first issue with working from home was that¡­well, all the jobs that were ¡®work from home¡¯ were hard to find. Seemed like an oxymoron, since there were thousands upon thousands of openings when you searched for them. The thing is that, if you see those openings, everyone else does as well. Millions of people fighting for tens of thousands of openings. My chances of getting one were, well, next to zero. That was my experience so far, applying to hundreds of openings in the past. I was convinced that the ¡®Easy Apply¡¯ had no function other than to virtually shred your application. Think about it, if it¡¯s easy for you to apply, it¡¯s easier for everyone else as well. Good in concept, but in reality it only led to those positions having hundreds of choices. That¡¯s a lottery at that point, one that I don¡¯t think I¡¯d ever win.


    Those were the desirable work-from-home jobs. There were also ones that were hazards, ranging from being a poor place to look at to a straight-up scam, stealing your information while pretending to be recruiters that reeeallly like you. I¡¯ve gotten a call from a ¡®recruiter¡¯ that ended up being one of these ordeals. You can tell because they¡¯re very eager to move you along the application process without doing their due diligence. A company that¡¯s easy to get hired onto is a red flag to start with because it implies several things, none of them good. That is if it¡¯s a real job listing in the first place.


    As for other benefits¡­there weren''t that many when it came down to it. Sure, if I got lucky and managed to land a ¡®bullshit job¡¯ type of work-from-home job, I could perhaps watch something or play video games on the job, but I can already do the former at my current job. Being able to half-watch something wasn¡¯t as big of a flex as it seemed on the surface. Unless you were playing something turn-based you would most likely have to pause your game in an inopportune spot when needed.


    There was a ¡®benefit¡¯ that you didn¡¯t technically need to dress up, or even clean up, when working from home. I use scare quotes because I didn¡¯t really see this as much as a benefit. More of an indulgence. I was as lazy as they came, but I valued taking showers and changing my clothes semi-regularly. I never have felt comfortable going more than a day without washing off. The stink doesn¡¯t affect me but the feeling of being unwashed makes me feel nasty.  Like a miasma that makes everything around feel icky and negativity affects my ability to exist. I don¡¯t know how others did it.


    Maybe one day I¡¯d join the work-from-home revolution, but for now, I still had to commute. A few years ago I would¡¯ve been called ¡®essential¡¯. I¡¯m glad they stopped with that shit. My ass wasn¡¯t essential when I was selling clothes, and my ass is arguably less essential now that I sell paint tubes and beads with a side of Christ.


    Enough bitching¡ªit was time to go to work.


    I had driven to work enough by now to know how late I could leave without being ¡®late¡¯ at work. The art of arriving at exactly six minutes past your shift''s start time wasn¡¯t easy to learn. It was luck that decided if you arrived at that time or five minutes over. Hell, I could leave five minutes earlier and still struggle to arrive on time. It all depended on traffic. Tractors were occasionally roadblocks¡ªthey appeared enough around the area that it could be a good enough alibi if I was late one day. Most days I didn¡¯t test my abilities to that extent. If I wasn¡¯t a lazy shit, I wouldn¡¯t have to do this silly game of Speeding To Work every shift. One day I¡¯ll grow up¡­


    Going to my car the same way I¡¯ve done probably a hundred times now, I threw my lunch into the passenger seat and started to crank my car¡­


    ¡­let me try it again¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­oh shit.


    No cranking at all. Pressing my key buttons, nothing happened. No locking and unlocking. Oh fuck. Guess that means my car was left unlocked for now. Not like that mattered. The most valuable things in my car were CDs.


    After failing to crank it a few more times, I sat there. Fuck. What¡¯s the matter?


    I had gotten an oil change the month before¡ªI was told that there weren¡¯t any major issues with the vehicle. Well, obviously that was a lie.


    I opened the hood to see if the issue was standing out. There wasn¡¯t. Looking inside the hood of my Honda, nothing looked out of sorts. Nothing was smoking and nothing was on fire¡ªnothing out of the ordinary¡­great.


    ¡­fuck, now I have to call work and tell them my car broke down. Fuck!


    <hr>


    Fast forward a minute¨CI had called work and told them I wasn¡¯t going in today. I don¡¯t know why, but I felt nervous calling as if they were going to say to me ¡°tough shit kid, walk or don¡¯t come back ever¡±. Instead, I got an ¡°okay, hope your car gets fixed soon¡±.


    I was now on the internet on my phone desperately trying to find a lede on what the fuck could be wrong with my car. There was nothing to go off of. No crank, no start. That was all I had when I searched for what could be wrong.


    ¡­


    ¡®Honda accord no crank no start¡¯ gave me a myriad of answers. No help at all, but not surprising since I had no clue what the fuck was up. I was doing the same thing as trying to diagnose an illness based on a cough. Or a lack of one in this case.


    Scrolling down, an impending sense of doom swarmed around me. It already had been for about five minutes, but now it was jumping me. How the fuck was I going to get this fixed? I had insurance, which included ¡®reduced-charge towing¡¯, but I had no clue how much the bill would be once the issue was diagnosed. Anything car-related can easily move into the thousands of dollars range. Car insurance didn¡¯t mean shit in many cases. There was also the issue that my car could be stuck at a repair shop for weeks on end, leading me to have to rely on a rental. In the past, I wasn¡¯t old enough to get a rental myself¡ªmy parents had helped me in that case. That was when I backed into a wall and tore off my back bumper. Embarrassing, but at least then I knew what the problem was. That, and my car still worked then.


    I was in a panic. It was all the most embarrassing, considering that the issue at hand wasn¡¯t that dire. Yes, I potentially had a thousand dollar plus bill coming at me, but it wasn¡¯t like I was stranded at sea or had just run over a child. What made me so uncomfortable however was that I wasn¡¯t in control of the situation. I was going to have to do something, but I didn¡¯t know what that something was. Of course, I was going to probably pay out of pocket for people who know what¡¯s going on with my car to fix it, but it all comes back to me. Was I really that clueless? That worthless? Usually, I would know that the answer is no, but in times like these, I couldn¡¯t convince myself that. The self-doubt seeps into your mind and you can¡¯t shake it, the notion that you are a worthless sack of shit that¡¯ll never amount to anything in life. Think about it¨CI¡¯m a man who''s wandering on his way to being thirty with no family, no career ambitions, and generally no ambition at all. I did have a job and was able to make all of my payments without needing assistance from mommy and daddy, but that was on account that I didn¡¯t do that much outside of work, game, and sleep. In the past, I had a semblance of a social life. I had so much free time on my hands that I¡¯d be playing games and watching anime for 14 hours a day if I didn¡¯t wander into a bar every few days. That was the reality of going to university. My degree ultimately didn¡¯t lead me to have long, rigorous study sessions. At the most, I would do research on JSTOR or read for a few hours. The secret about majors like Political Science is that if you can write essays and do research, it¡¯s not that hard. Most people hate reading and typing even more, which makes PoliSci seem daunting. It wasn¡¯t easy, I¡¯ll tell you that, but it also wasn¡¯t particularly difficult. It was just school. It was profoundly easier than anything relating to science or math, that¡¯s for sure. That being said, I had still not done anything with my PoliSci degree. Whether that was an indictment on me or PoliSci itself was still to be seen. Either way, I was in debt because of going to university. It would eventually be paid off, but the weight of a fifty-thousand dollar loan along with the untold amount I would have to pay to fix my car was simply too much for me. I was spiraling.


    [*RING RING*]


    My phone started vibrating¡ªI was getting a call from Jean. Wonder what she was concerned about.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Hey, are you at the house right now?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I was stuck here, but I didn¡¯t want to get into that on the phone.


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m gonna be showing up soon so keep an eye out for me.¡±


    ¡°...okay¡­¡± ¡­so she was coming. Wish I knew sooner.


    ¡°Alright bye.¡± She hung up immediately, probably acknowledging that she shouldn¡¯t be talking and driving at the same time. I never got to ask why she was coming by¡­


    That brief interruption distracted me from the issue at hand. My car¡¯s issue was still unknown, and I still had the miasma of self-doubt following me, but Jean¡¯s sudden entrance distracted me. Keys still in hand, I tried once more to crank my car¡­and once more¡­yep, still nothing.


    I was stumped. For now, I was going to go back inside, since staying out here would only guarantee me giving myself a headache or bashing my head into my steering wheel until I knocked myself out. Better to worry inside rather than out. Instinctively I pressed the lock button on my keypad¡ªoh yeah, that didn¡¯t work. Locking my car manually, I slowly walked back inside, feeling less well than I was when I was still expecting to go to work.


    <hr>


    I was on my computer figuring out how easy it was to get my car towed. Thankfully, I was right, and it wouldn¡¯t cost that much due to insurance. I should¡¯ve known that I would get a discount. Serves me right for not reading the fine print. There¡¯s a first time for everything, and also you learn something new every day. Wonder how many stock phrases I¡¯d use before this day was over.


    On cue, I heard a bang at the door. Loud enough for me, and definitely loud enough for Michael.


    Walking to the door, I opened and greeted the Landlord.


    ¡°So what brings you here today?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m taking measurements for the back deck.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­well¡­¡± Wait, why? ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°So I can measure the dimensions of the deck and get an estimate of the materials I¡¯ll need to rebuild. Not to mention that some of the boards may be rotting by now so I need to check on that as well.¡±


    ¡°Alright, but the deck seems fine¡­¡± It could use a fresh coat of paint, but other than that it looked good.


    ¡°Well you think that, but if you took a closer look you¡¯d see that it¡¯s in bad need of repair. By the way, am I allowed in?¡± Oh shit, I¡¯ve been blocking her way.


    Once she let herself in, she walked to the back door.


    ¡°Come out here with me so I can show ya what¡¯s wrong.¡± You could¡¯ve just went to the back door in the first place¡­


    Well, I had plans to do nothing, but sure, I guess I¡¯ll go outside.


    Slipping back on my shoes, I followed Jean outside to the back left corner of the deck. She placed her foot down, not in a slam, but not a tap either, on a dark part in a board about an inch from the edge. The wood creaked a little and gave in some. Hard to tell how much since her shoe covered most of it.


    ¡°Feel that.¡± Jean was pointing to the dark part, which I placed my foot over. Before I could feel whatever she was worried about, I got interrupted.


    ¡°No, feel it with your hands.¡± I paused, bit my lip, and did as she requested. The wood there was fragile. Soft to the touch, with a lot more give than I¡¯d like for something I stand on. I guess this was what she was concerned about.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°That¡¯s rotted wood.¡± She was sharp with her words, as if she just thought of it pissed her off.


    ¡°Yeah, I wouldn¡¯t want to step on that.¡±


    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be that way if the guy that sold me this wood didn¡¯t lie about it being treated. If it was treated it wouldn¡¯t be doing this.¡±


    ¡°How long has the wood been on here?¡± If it¡¯s been on here for twenty years, it was likely time to replace it anyway.


    ¡°About five years.¡± Yeah, that was kind of not long for it to already have spots rotting away. That being said, this was, as far as I knew, the only bad spot on this whole deck. It was on the far left corner of the deck, a spot I¡¯d never stepped on. Hell, I didn¡¯t know there was anything wrong with the deck until now. Makes me glad that Michael was hopping in the middle of the deck instead of back here.


    Looking at my car, I suddenly remembered that I still had to get it towed.


    ¡°Shit¡­¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Jean, still inspecting the deck, stopped and faced me.


    ¡°My car isn¡¯t working. It¡¯s completely dead.¡±


    ¡°The battery needs a charge?¡±


    ¡°I highly doubt it, but it¡¯s worth a shot.¡± This was going to be a waste of time, since I knew it wasn¡¯t the battery. When I had a battery start to fail on me, I knew it was happening since my car¡¯s dashboard lights would start flickering. It¡¯s the reason why I don¡¯t chill in my car on anymore. In this case, if it was the battery, it would mean that it was a sudden failure, which implies that it can¡¯t be recharged.


    This was my thinking, but Jean was stubborn to the point where I would have go along for the time being.


    ¡°Can you pop the hood for me real quick? I wanna see if it¡¯s anything I can fix.¡± She was walking to my car, curious as to what could be wrong with it. She wasn¡¯t going to find out, but I¡¯ll entertain her. Maybe she¡¯d buy me a new one if she couldn¡¯t fix it.


    I still had my keys in my pocket. Instinctively I tried to unlock my door, forgetting that it was already unlocked.


    Inside the car, I pulled the lever that opened the trunk.


    ¡°Try to crank it.¡± Jean, looking at my engine told me to do what I knew couldn¡¯t be done.


    ¡°It won¡¯t do anything, but alright.¡±


    I ¡®started¡¯ my car several times, demonstrating the problem. After I stopped, I leaned out the window and looked at Jean.


    ¡°Well?¡±


    ¡°Take your keys out for a moment.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± I leaned back in and took them out. This was pointless. Ideally, she would pull out a hundred grand and tell me to buy the car of my dreams, but that wasn¡¯t her. She still operated as if she was a middle-class woman, even though she was by all accounts a hundred-millionaire. She complained about taxes a lot¨Cnever about where they¡¯re going to, but the concept of them. She had half of her lottery earnings taken by the government, which was most likely the main point of contention for her. Still, she had more money than 99.99% of people, so while she may not like it, I couldn¡¯t give a fuck less. I¡¯d still humor her if she opined about it, since I was getting a good deal on my lease. Anyway. This was wasting her time. This would be wasting my time as well if I had anything better to do. I couldn¡¯t even properly bitch about doing this pointless activity, since she was technically helping me out. This was the vehicle equivalent of ¡®Have you tried turning it off and on again?¡¯, but it was still something. Jean was stubborn to the point where she would try to fix it herself if she thought she could. It was like nothing I¡¯ve ever seen before. Of course, there are millions of men out there who believe that they can fix anything, but I¡¯ve never seen a woman share that mentality. She was an odd woman, that was for sure. Considering that all of the improvements around the property were done by her, she was pretty useful with tools. That much was true. However, was it worth the time spent? Compared to what else she could be doing? Every other rich person I know pays someone else to do their chores.


    I reached for my phone and only had enough time to check the weather when I heard ¡°Alright, try to crank it now!¡±


    Huhhhh, fine. I plugged in my key once more and tried¡­holy shit! It was cranking! It started! My car was working! It was fixed!


    I exited my car¡ªI needed to see what magic she performed on my ailing Honda.


    ¡°How¡¯d you fix it?¡±


    ¡°Your battery wasn¡¯t connected properly.¡± She was pointing to the red knob on top of my battery, where the ¡®positive¡¯ power came from. ¡°All I had to do was tighten the connection. Not a hard fix.¡±


    I went back to turn off my car, then back to the front. Tapping on the knob, I thought of many things. I wasn¡¯t going to need to spend hundreds or thousands of dollars anymore. I wasn¡¯t totally at ease, however¡ªhow could I be when I let a simple fix like that go under my nose? Especially with how much I think about cars in the first place, you¡¯d think I would know how to tinker with them as well. The reality is that I like cars because they go fast¨CI don¡¯t know that much about how they work. All I can say is that I don¡¯t like to play with expensive toys.


    ¡°Well, at least I know I don¡¯t have to get anything fixed.¡± I was relieved, to say the least. It was all quite silly, reflecting on it. What if I had gotten my car towed just for the fix to be as simple as that? The embarrassment would kill me for the whole day. It would be better than having a car with a dead battery or something more expensive, but it would at the least make me feel incompetent. Emasculated. A good-for-nothing idiot who can¡¯t even check his battery before getting it towed.


    Well, enough stewing about it. Not that I want to go, but if I¡¯m going to pay the bills, I needed to go to work. Good thing I left my lunch in my passenger seat.


    <hr>


    $9.95 for a GPS tracker¡­yes¡­fuck yes. My plan is working out exactly how it should.


    Now that I had come up with exactly where The Roommate works, it was time to track him down. Knowing where he works isn¡¯t enough. I need to get him when he¡¯s not in public.


    How could I find where he lives without trailing him home? Attaching GPS trackers to the vehicles of men who work at Hobby Lobby was the best choice. How did I know where to go to? That would be thanks to Francis¡­


    <hr>


    Fuck. I can¡¯t stand this asshole. Dudetubers seriously are the worst.


    I couldn¡¯t tell you how many streams of his I¡¯ve watched. His shitty streams were most of what I had consumed within the last month. I¡¯ve played his streams in reverse order, trying to find a nugget of knowledge about where he lived.


    As a corpo VTuber, it was a prerequisite that they don¡¯t give out where they lived. Some of them had ventured outside of VTubing where they revealed their face¨Cthat ruined the immersion for me, I didn¡¯t watch those tubers. With that in mind, they still didn¡¯t reveal where they lived. The most you would get was which country they lived in. A lot of them lived in Canada. Some lived in Europe. A lot lived in Japan, despite being part of the English branch of their company. Making the move to Nihon made it easier for them to be in touch with management, which was located in Tokyo more often than not.


    As for Francis Fukuyama, I knew that he had moved from the West Coast to the East Coast. Going back in time on his Twitter page, he documented the trip as such. His reasoning behind it was that he wanted a place more ¡®lowkey¡¯ to live in. He had enough of Commiefornia, which was where I assumed he lived before. I wasn¡¯t going to go that far back in his backlog to find that out. I was sick of the guy as it was.


    He had made the move around a year and a half ago¨Cthe first mention of The Roommate was on his Twitter page late last December. Before, he had an entire house to himself. The Roommate wasn¡¯t mentioned again until Valentine¡¯s Day, when he had an incident hurting his toe. Francis was cooking some shitty pancakes and had come up with the excuse that he had to go to the restroom. Everyone in the chatroom had heard The Roommate¡¯s scream, so Francis had to fess up eventually and tell them what happened. The Roommate¡¯s toe had been hit so hard that it started bleeding. Something about him hitting a drawer in the living room. If only he had gotten Tetanus from it.


    After that, The Roommate¡¯s cameos on-stream were infrequent¨Cthere were a couple of streams where he played a supporting role¨Cone where Francis did the One Chip Challenge and failed and one where he was driving in Gran Turismo 7. He had also made an appearance on Violet Bridgewater¡¯s stream once, playing Counter-Strike: Global Offensive with her. Whore.


    From the outside, it seemed as if The Roommate was content with being a side character that didn¡¯t interfere with the tuber¡¯s lives. But I knew that wasn¡¯t the case. I knew what his intentions were. And even if those weren¡¯t his intentions, I had to move forward to ensure that no man would ever think about it. A precedent needs to be set.


    The final clue, the one that zoned me in on where Francis was located, was from a stream that aired months before The Roommate moved in.


    [ZATSUDAN] long time no chat [ANYCLOVER EN | Francis Fukuyama]


    It was a three-and-a-half-hour-long stream. I didn¡¯t want to listen to a second of it, but it was necessary. The fruits of my labor finally had come.


    Twenty minutes in, Francis veered into a conversation about seeing ¡®a lot of boats today¡¯. He had been driving back home from the airport, and had seen ¡®hella boats¡¯ on the Interstate. ¡°Like dozens of them, all looking like fishing boats¡±.


    Since he lived ¡®near a lake¡¯, it made sense that he would see boats on the road. That was a given, but to that extent? That meant there had to be an event going on. According to him.


    ¡°I also saw an 18-wheeler with ¡®BASSMASTER¡¯ plastered on it. What the hell is going on? The fishing Super Bowl?¡±


    Bassmaster¡­isn¡¯t that the fishing thing? They hold fishing tournaments where the man who catches the biggest fish wins. I think that¡¯s how it works. Fishing is based in theory, but in reality, it takes too long to catch one. It¡¯s boring. Not for me.


    The stream was from October 4th, 2022. I had to look up if the Bassmasters were holding a tournament at that time.


    The third result was what I wanted:


    2022 St. Croix Bassmaster Southern Open at Lake Hartwell presented by Mossy Oak Fishing - October 6-8 - Lake Hartwell


    Bingo. I got him. Finally.


    <hr>


    There were only three Hobby Lobby stores within a reasonable driving distance of Lake Hartwell. They were all in separate counties, which were an hour''s drive from each other. Theoretically, I could hit them all in one day and try to locate The Roommate there, but that would be inefficient. I could only be at one location at opening time, and there was no guarantee that he would be there. He could come in later, at noon or at 2 PM. It was a wildcard¨Call I knew was that he wouldn¡¯t be there Sunday, since they¡¯re closed then.


    How many trackers would I need¡­I thought around ten would be good enough. Probably more than enough, but I would rather have too many than too little. It would be easier to buy around thirty and place them on every vehicle a male employee stepped out of, but I also wanted to cover my tracks. Leaving the trackers on the vehicles once the job was done would eventually lead back to me. Being a martyr for a purifying cause sounded nice, but I didn¡¯t want to go to jail. They only have TV in there, no YouTube.


    As for the acid¡­that was harder to find. I could make it, but I don¡¯t trust myself¡­plus I don¡¯t have the supplies. I think. I¡¯d rather order it.


    The strongest Hydrochloric Acid I could find was a 37% solution. It was strong enough¨Caccording to the bottle, it can ¡®cause severe skin burns and eye damage. May cause respiratory irritation.¡¯ It was perfect for what I wanted to do to The Roommate. I didn¡¯t want to kill the guy, even if I had the urge to do it at times.


    Along with that warning, there were warnings to not breathe it in and to use proper protection when using it. I had gloves, and I could buy goggles at a store. No need to get everything at the same place.


    The acid would come in a quart-sized bottle. That would be more than enough for the purpose I was using it for. The problem wasn¡¯t the volume, but if it was able to be easily opened. That, and if it could be easily splashed on someone. The bottle I was looking at seemed to be one that could be screwed off and on. I would have to ¡®test¡¯ it to see how long it would take to do that. According to the reviews, it is pourable, which means it is splashable as well. It¡¯s something I couldn¡¯t test out beforehand, so I¡¯ll have to trust them on it.


    As for my plan to find The Roommate, I came down to the following solution¡±


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Stake out Store A from 8 AM to 2 PM (longer if my laptop was still on) from the edge of the parking lot.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Take note of each vehicle a male employee came out of.</li>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Hobby Lobby employees wore blue vests, which would be how I knew they worked there. There was the possibility that they wouldn¡¯t have it on, but at most they would be carrying it.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Roommate had pale skin, so Black, Latino, and other dark-skinned men were automatically struck out.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Roommate, from the one pixelated picture I had seen, appeared to be thin. Skinnyfat at most. Obese men were automatically struck out.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">The Roommate more than likely was in his twenties or thirties. Age is hard to tell from a distance, but any elderly pale-skinned male employees were struck out, for now. There¡¯s no confirmation that he isn¡¯t a geezer, but it would be stupid to assume that he was over the age of forty.</li>


    </ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Tactically place a GPS tracker on each of the vehicles after an acceptable time of staking out.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Return to my hotel room and write down the address of where each vehicle went after the male employee left work.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">If I have time, drive by where said addresses are. If they don¡¯t have Leyland cypresses in the yard, strike them out. Go back to the hotel room and rest for the next day.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Stake out Store B and start the same process.</li>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">If I ran out of GPS trackers, automatically call it a day and return to the hotel room for the time being.</li>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">If possible, return to Store A and retrieve the GPS trackers so they can be used on another vehicle.</li>


    </ul>


    </ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Wait until the next day and stake out Store C.</li>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">If The Roommate is not located, then retrieve GPS trackers from Store A, B, and C and restart the process, looping from each store.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">If a week goes by without locating The Roommate, start again, going in B, C, A order.</li>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">EXAMPLE: Week 1-</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Monday, Thursday = Store A</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Tuesday, Friday = Store B</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Wednesday, Saturday = Store C</li>


    </ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Week 2-</li>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Monday Thursday = Store B</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Tuesday, Friday = Store C</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Wednesday, Saturday = Store A</li>


    </ul>


    </ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Continue until The Roommate is located.</li>


    </ul>


    This process has its flaws, the most prevailing one being that I could be staking out a store on days when The Roommate is guaranteed not to work. However, I doubt he has that liberty since retail stores tend not to have set schedules, having their staff on variable schedules instead.


    A pair of binoculars will be necessary so I can scope in on people who exit their vehicles. I think I have some in the house¨Cif not, I can buy one at a store. I don¡¯t need super powerful ones, just ones good enough to zoom in 10x at most.


    Money is no issue. Any shithole hotel will work for my purposes. All I need good WiFi and a bed that won¡¯t fuck up my back.


    The journey down there will take two days of driving. I could get there in one if I didn¡¯t sleep, but I need to keep my mind sharp. I¡¯ve dulled it enough already listening to Francis. I¡¯ve never checked in for a hotel room myself. I¡¯m nervous about it, but I assume I¡¯m not the only single white male checking into a seedy hotel for one night.


    Today and tomorrow, I¡¯ll prepare for my trip¨Cbuying all the supplies and planning on where to stay once I¡¯m down there. I also need to wait until my Amazon order with the GPS trackers and hydrochloric acid arrives. I can¡¯t leave without those.


    Also, I need to mentally prepare myself to leave my sanctuary. The outside world is scary. Never mind how screwed up society is¨CI¡¯ve lived my life able to not need to go outside often. For a few weeks, I¡¯ll have to go outside my bubble. My comfort zone. I¡¯ll have to be strong¨Cif I chicken out, then The Roommate will never learn his lesson, and Juliet will be tainted forever. It¡¯ll all be over soon.


    Map of the three Hobby Lobby locations The Roommate could work at. The blue dots are their approximate location, and the lighter blue blob is Lake Hartwell, where the fishing tournament was held at. Making a round trip from Store A to Store B to Store C and back to Store A takes around an hour and a half, according to Google Maps.


    Store A¡¯s parking lot. There are only a few parking spaces which are suitable for observation, highlighted in red. Perhaps there are more, but from a bird¡¯s eye view, trees obstruct the view.


    Store B¡¯s parking lot. There won¡¯t be a problem with picking a spot to observe here¨CI just don¡¯t need not to make it obvious what I¡¯m doing. Perhaps parking facing the road and observing from the back window is the way to go. How does one sit backward in the back seat¡­


    Store C¡¯s parking lot. Parking at the end might be the best option¨CI could observe from the driver¡¯s side window while having a sun visor cover my windshield. If I park closer to the store, then I¡¯ll have to once again park facing the road and observe from the back window. The more I think about it, the dumber that idea sounds, but if I get caught it¡¯s game over.

 The Boat Dreams from the Hill

    The trip was around the corner¡­


    By this time in three days, I¡¯d be at the beach¨Cor at most of the way down there. I was already dreading the drive. It would take around seven hours to get there and seven more hours to return home. And that was before any stops were accounted for. We were bound to have to pit for gas and make another stop at a restaurant if we wanted to eat something more nourishing than snacks from a convenience store. Originally, I wanted to take my car since it was nicer than Michael¡¯s beater, but the battery incident was still playing in my head. It wasn¡¯t like my car had other underlying issues, but there wasn¡¯t any telling if the cord would become undone from my battery again. Imagine if my car randomly shut off while going seventy miles per hour on the interstate¡­okay, that was an improbable scenario, considering the grip the alligator clips had on the positive and negative connections on my battery, but if it happened once, what¡¯s stopping it from happening again? Michael¡¯s car might be a piece of shit from the outside, but to my knowledge, he hasn¡¯t had any issues with it ever since I arrived. Not like he drives it much. I¡¯d be surprised if he had his oil changed within the last year.


    Right now, I was wasting away at work again. Man, I couldn¡¯t wait until I got out of here.


    ¡°Bruh, I¡¯m so fucking bored right now¡­¡± Paul likewise couldn¡¯t wait until he could set foot out.


    ¡°Well, at least we¡¯re getting paid to do all this sitting around.¡± I was trying to pass the time by looking at my phone. Paul had his laptop up. I assumed that he was doing some assignments for a summer class.


    We were both in the break room¨Cit was the only place in the back with chairs. The smell of burnt coffee that smacked me in the face when I walked had reduced to background noise. It was too hot to consider drinking coffee recreationally, plus I wasn¡¯t drowsy in the slightest. I thought about cleaning the pot out with water so the smell would go away, but I was too lazy to do that right now. Maybe later when I¡¯m bored and beginning to lose my energy.


    ¡°Yeah, but still¡­¡± Paul looked up, bewildered by the fact that he still had an hour until he left. He was lucky! I was stuck here for six more hours!


    ¡°Man, I can¡¯t wait until next week; I don¡¯t have to be here, " I thought out loud.


    ¡°You going somewhere?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, going to Florida. Panama City. Never been there.¡±


    Paul perked up and grinned at the mention of Panama City, ¡°Aww hell yeah dude. I just went there for Spring Break. I had a hell of a time. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever drank so much¡­that whole trip was a blur¡­¡± Wait, aren¡¯t you 20? Well, I guess that¡¯s to be expected¨Cmost university students his age have a fake ID for situations like that¨CI was too lame to ever have one.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll have as good a time as you did.¡± I¡¯d rather remember my vacation.


    ¡°Who¡¯re you going with?¡±


    ¡°Ahh, my roommate and some of his buds from work.¡± I wasn¡¯t lying.


    ¡°You¡¯re going with that Asian dude?¡±


    I was taken aback by Paul¡¯s upfrontness. ¡®that Asian dude¡¯ was one way to refer to Michael¡­¡°Yeah¡­or rather, he invited me on the trip.¡±


    ¡°Have you met the guys you¡¯re going with? Are they cool?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t met them in person yet, but I¡¯ve talked to them for a bit.¡± Due to the nature of their ¡®remote jobs¡¯, these sorts of meetups were some of the only times they met face-to-face. ¡°To be honest, I don¡¯t even know what they look like¡­¡±


    ¡°I hope they aren¡¯t on some true crime shit.¡± Well, I hope not either.


    ¡°Oh, I highly doubt it.¡± They have too much going for them to do any ¡®true crime shit¡¯...I hope they¡¯re rational enough to know that.


    Paul had stretched his arms and gotten up. Seems like he had enough of staring at Canvas, ¡°It¡¯s a dope place, so I know you¡¯ll have a good time.¡±


    ¡°Hey, anything to get away from here for a bit.¡±


    ¡°I hear that,¡± Paul shut his laptop off and started walking towards the door, ¡°it¡¯s a shame that you aren¡¯t bringing any chicks though.¡±


    ¡°How do you know that?¡± He¡¯s right, but how does he know?


    At the entrance of the break room, Paul simply asked ¡°Well, are you?¡±


    Should I lie? Nah¡­¡°...No¡­¡± Something tells me Paul would see right through me if I pretended otherwise.


    ¡°That¡¯s a shame man¡­¡± Paul was shaking his head as if he already knew that both Michael and I had no game. I mean, he¡¯d only seen Michael for fifteen seconds total and already could clock that from him. ¡°I¡¯m gonna get something from the vending machines outside. Hopefully, something comes in so I have something to do before I go.¡±


    ¡°Alright, sounds good.¡± Personally, I was hoping that it would stay this quiet. I wasn¡¯t quite that bored yet.


    ¡°And hey, you never know¨Cyou might meet a girl there.¡± Paul chimed in with a final thought before he left. I highly doubt it, but I¡¯m glad he has his hopes up for me. Little does he know that I don¡¯t even know what my current crush looks like in real life. Hey, maybe one day¡­


    <hr>


    ¡°Man, fuck this coursework¡­¡±


    I was doing summer classes because they were supposed to be easier. I had fewer classes on my plate¨Ctwo classes right now, compared to the five I usually take during the fall and spring. Summer classes were only a month long¨Cnothing compared to regular semester classes which lasted the whole season. Other summer classes I had didn¡¯t seem like they had 15 weeks of assignments smushed into 5 weeks. Hell, most of them were light on coursework, allowing me to do my own thing most of the time. My other summer class was a breeze like they should be, but this class, THIS CLASS, was fucking hard. Assignments are due what seemed like every day. An uncompromising professor on top of that, who was a hardass when it came to due dates. I mean, what¡¯s the difference between 11:59 PM and 12:02 AM? It¡¯s three fucking minutes. I know I ain¡¯t the only one that hates the guy. Just wished I had gone on Rate My Professor before enrolling in this shit. Too late now, can¡¯t drop out. Just gotta tough it out for a few more weeks.


    I was going to get another Gatorade¨CI would bring some to work, but I always forget them in my fridge. And the prices for this vending machine were pretty good, at least compared to the ones on campus. At least seventy-five cents cheaper. The only bad part was that I had to go outside in the blazing heat each time I wanted another bottle.


    I entered two dollars in and got a red Gatorade. While waiting for it to fall out of the vending machine, I took a look at the parking lot.


    ¡­What¡¯s that guy doing next to John¡¯s car?...The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Ah, I think that¡¯s his car. I swore I¡¯d seen him getting out of it before. Either way, the sweaty-looking man had now unbent himself and was walking towards the back of the parking lot. Must¡¯ve needed to tie his shoes. Would make sense why he was bent over next to the tires for several seconds. My girl has been too into true crime recently, those wild scenarios that she makes up in her head are starting to spread to me¡­


    When I say that guy is sweaty, I really mean it¡ªthe guy was soaked¡­like, I can tell from here. The back of his shirt is rinsed. I didn¡¯t see him in the store, so I can only assume he parked and went to the other side of the plaza. He doesn¡¯t have anything in hand, however. I don¡¯t know man, people are weird. I just need to mind my business and drink my gatorade.


    <hr>


    Fuck! I need to go¨CI¡¯m sweating buckets and I almost got caught!


    I¡¯ve been down here for about a week now. I knew it was going to be hot, but I never took into account how hot the inside of a car can get. I had been able to park in the shade each day, but the everpresent radiation from the Sun ensured that it didn¡¯t mean anything. This place was hell on Earth. I had no spare T-shirts to change into nor any more water to sip on. It would be boiling hot at this point anyway. At least the shirt was white, so it didn¡¯t absorb heat¡­it still weighed about five pounds about right now. And I was getting thirsty. I couldn¡¯t leave my post to get any water, so I was stuck like this for now. Also, my head was pounding. Pounding and pounding. It had been for a few days now. My nose was running as well. My allergies had been going off the charts ever since I came down here. Juliet was lucky that I was willing to go through this for her sake. No matter how bad I felt, I needed to do this. I needed to find The Roommate. That was why I was trying to tag the car before I went back, so I could go back to the hotel, change, recharge, and monitor.


    My excursion to tag a Honda was going smoothly until I noticed that kid.


    I had just gotten there and was putting the GPS tracker on the inner wheel well of a Honda Civic. A white man with a blue vest tucked to his forearm had walked out of the car an hour or two ago¡ªhe fit the description of The Roommate. Failing to tag him would be a huge setback. Right as I got there, a tall young skinny-looking ginger looked towards me wearing a blue Hobby Lobby vest. I panicked¨Cfinding a place to stick a GPS tracker isn¡¯t easy when you get spooked. Even harder when any light burns your eyes. There was not a cloud in the sky on this sweltering summer day¨CI dropped the fucking thing and had to scoop it up before the ginger would become suspicious of me. I know it isn¡¯t his car, but I have no clue how close the coworkers are here. Thankfully, I finally got the tracker on a part where it would stick and was able to leave. I don¡¯t have a clue if he saw me¨Cto be honest, I didn¡¯t want to look back, since that would only make me look more suspicious. I don¡¯t even know if my body would let me. I lost my vision for a few seconds after the sequence of events. I¡¯m lucky all I had to do was walk in a straight line to get back to my vehicle. Just keep on walking¡­just keep on walking.


    <hr>


    I found him. I found the fucker.


    It was the day after almost getting caught. I really don¡¯t know how close I was to being spotted, all I know was that it was too close for comfort. I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t chicken out, because the car I put the tracker on was the one that belonged to The Roommate.


    I was able to confirm it by driving by where his car was parked. The trees behind the car were the same as in the photo. Leeland cypress trees, greener than I thought they would be. There was another car parked next to it, which I assumed was Francis¡¯s.


    I could¡¯ve confirmed this the night before, but my body would not let me. It was a miracle that I was able to drive back to my hotel without passing out. I was basically bedridden from the time I got back until this afternoon. The bed was fucking uncomfortable as hell¨CI should¡¯ve expected it staying at this cheap ass hotel. These beds were mainly used to fuck prostitutes, not sleep. McDonald¡¯s delivered to my door did not help in the slightest either. Some may call it goyslop, but I enjoy it anyway.


    With my laptop to the side, I was able to get coordinates to where The Roommate was. Longitude and latitude. Translating that into a street address was simple. It was around a twenty-minute drive from my hotel.


    Driving by was all I was able to do since there wasn¡¯t any place to park. The house was located in a semi-secluded area. Off a two-lane highway with a speed limit of like 35 miles per hour. Flanking it were two houses that looked exactly the same. They weren¡¯t trailers, but they had the same rectangular shape as them. ¡®Manufactured homes¡¯ was what they were called. They all looked alike¨Cthe main difference in my eyes was that some of them had tin roofs and some of them had shingles.


    The trees weren¡¯t just in the backyard, but they were boarding the entire property. It was like a natural border between them and the neighbors.


    The other side of the road was all farmland. It would¡¯ve been easy to park there if it wasn¡¯t for the ditch. I had plenty of time anyway, especially due to the announcement that came out last night.


    [¡°hey, so I¡¯m going to be gone next week. no streams, be back streaming the following week!¡±]


    Francis had put out a tweet last night that he was going to be gone. Perfect news for me. That would be one obstacle out of the way. I have no clue when Francis is leaving¨Cthe only clue I have is if the car next to The Roommate¡¯s is gone next time I come by.


    There was still one factor I had to take into account. There was the possibility that I could be observed by neighbors. The fact that there are large trees bordering most of the yard gave me confidence that I wouldn¡¯t be spotted, but I wasn¡¯t one hundred percent sure. The aerial view suggested it was, but there were gaps in between each tree¡ªthat was noticeable from the photo Francis posted of The Roommate. I can only thank that dumbass for posting that, otherwise, it would¡¯ve taken months to find my target. Scoping around while The Roommate wasn¡¯t around would be the only opportunity I would have to do any reconnaissance on the place. The plan was simple, but knowing the terrain could go a long way, even with something like this.


    The main obstacle, other than potentially being spotted by neighbors, was building up the gumption to do the deed. Yes, The Roommate one million percent deserved the justice I was going to dish to him, but fantasizing about it and doing it are two different things. I was shaking a little just being this close to The Roommate¡­well, that could also be attributed to my ailments. Either way, this wasn¡¯t something I could just walk up to do at the moment. I would have to warm up to it. Good thing Francis was going to be gone for a while. I had a few days to rest up and mentally prepare myself. Good thing Juliet is streaming later.


    <hr>


    I need to get a suitcase soon¡­


    Not that I go on trips often, but it would be useful to have one so I could have something to roll instead of carrying all of my junk. Not that I had much to take¨Ca week''s worth of clothes (shirts of various kinds, pants (some short and some long), socks, undies, and swimming trunks) went into a bulging gym bag, while all of my toiletries and electronics went into a backpack, now swelling as well. I had way more clothes than was necessary. I¡¯d rather have too much than too little.


    It was the night before we were supposed to drive out to the beach. I was incredibly nervous. My anxiety was ramping up. I wasn¡¯t bracing for anything, it was just that it¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve been on one of these. Also, I always get nervous before a trip. Always have. Don¡¯t know why. Any fear I had deep in the crevices of my brain was bound to be unfound. Michael and Dusty had everything planned out with regard to the hotel. We weren¡¯t going to be the first ones there¨CDusty was going to be arriving a few hours before us. His plane was supposed to arrive at around noon. Michael and I were planning on leaving tomorrow at around 10 AM. Enough time to get ready and go without feeling rushed. We were going to be arriving at around 3 PM (a timezone change gave us back an hour), enough time for the check-in situation to be over with.


    The drive down was going to suck, I know that. The plan was to have him drive halfway and I drive the other half. Who gets which half is still unknown. It¡¯s a four-door sedan with enough trunk space for our luggage¨Cwhether or not his car was in good enough condition to make the trip down was a different story. It did survive a cross-country trip, so theoretically, this would be nothing for it.


    The Landlord was going to be staying at the house during the time we were gone. According to her, she¡¯s going to arrive in the afternoon tomorrow and stay until we come back. It¡¯s a bit more than housesitting, since she¡¯s also going to be doing odd jobs around her property. I haven¡¯t asked what in particular she¡¯s ¡®fixing¡¯, but I know the back porch will be one area. She¡¯ll probably clean the green gunk off of the siding as well. She has told me several times about a powerwasher that¡¯s ¡®ready to use¡¯ in the shed. That might have been her way of telling me that I could do it, but I wasn¡¯t going to do all that. I didn¡¯t even know how to turn it on! She¡¯ll also probably trim the trees once more, and I know her ass is cutting the grass. That¡¯s probably a day one thing. Or a last day thing¡ªdepends on how she feels about it. I assume she¡¯s going to sleep in the spare bedroom Michael uses as storage¡ªI sure hope he¡¯s kept it clean. I haven¡¯t been in ever since I took that fighting stick. I wouldn¡¯t doubt it if she washed the sheets before sleeping in them. She seems like that sort of person.


    With everything prepared, I took a shot of my luggage and sent a quick message to the trip group chat


    [¡°all set ??¡±]


    There wasn¡¯t a reason why I sent it, I just felt like it. I need to have some sociability. Need to not feel too much like a stranger. Even as integrated as I am into Michael¡¯s ¡®scene¡¯, I¡¯m still an outsider. Hell, I don¡¯t even think Michael has told his audience that I¡¯m coming with him.


    [¡°you packed already??¡±]


    Michael was the only one to chime in¡ªbrother, don¡¯t you know that we leave in 12 hours?


    Well, it was his own funeral if he wasn¡¯t packed in time. I imagine him as someone who throws stuff in his luggage, so he could get ready in five minutes. Either way, it was tomorrow¡¯s problem, so we¡¯ll see.

 The Trip Down There

    We left around 10 AM¨Cwe didn¡¯t have to check in until 2 PM, so there was no reason to arrive before then. It was a seven-hour drive, but we lost a time zone, which made it look like only a six-hour one if you looked at the clock. It was always weird to me that the panhandle of Florida was in a different time zone than the other parts. It was distinctively ¡®non-Florida¡¯, for lack of a better word. To be fair, Alabama was also part of Central Standard Time and they were as far east as the panhandles. I don¡¯t think people get too territorial over time zones¡­well, only the East and West Coasters do. What¡¯s so cool about CST?


    Anyway, we left at around 10 AM. Much to my surprise, Michael did get his luggage ready on time.


    I got up around an hour before, just so I could have enough time to drink some coffee and take a piss before leaving. Coffee isn¡¯t the best thing to have when your nerves are uneasy, but it¡¯s better than being nervous and getting a headache due to a lack of caffeine. Michael grabbed a random black tumbler cup from the cabinet.


    ¡°This will do.¡±


    It was around 24 ounces and had ¡®JMK¡¯ plastered on it in white letters. I¡¯ve never seen him use it before¡ªthat¡¯s probably because he hasn¡¯t. In fact, I don¡¯t think it had been moved this year until he grabbed it.


    After not-so-gently blowing on the top of the cup (to get rid of the dust on the top?), he started towards the fridge. Not even washing the cup out before using it? Gross.


    ¡°You better wash that thing before you put your tea in there.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t need to do that. There¡¯s barely any dust on the lid!¡±


    Is he really not going to wash it out? A cup he¡¯s never used until now? A cup that¡¯s obviously not his? Guess I¡¯ll have to scare him into it¡­


    ¡°Did you even look inside the cup? What if there¡¯s a spider that laid eggs in there?¡±


    Michael stopped the millisecond I uttered ¡®spider¡¯. He had a jug of oolong tea in his hand, which he was about to pour into the unknown tumbler. Now, he was frozen¨Cthe inertia of the tea dribbled some of it out on the counter.


    ¡°¡­on second thought, I should wash this out.¡±


    After that, he not only turned on the sink to wash out any dirt that accumulated inside, but he also used paper towels to dry and collect whatever had been in there, plus the little puddles he poured on the counter. No spider or spider eggs were in there by his muted motions. To be honest, I never expected it to have anything terrifying like that inside¡ªhe was clearly using one of The Landlord¡¯s cups. She wouldn¡¯t be caught dead with an unwashed cup in a cabinet. It¡¯s better to check anyway. It only takes a little effort not to be nasty. You never know!


    ¡ª


    One good thing about where we live is that even if it¡¯s a little out of the way of most things, it wasn¡¯t completely out in the wilderness. We only had to go on the main highway, drive (relatively) straight for twenty minutes, and then we were on the interstate.


    Michael had decided to drive the first half¡ªit was his car, and even if it was mine, I wouldn¡¯t have objected to him driving.


    The first half of our journey would take place all on Interstate 85 and its cohorts. Anyone who''s ever driven on an interstate knows that they aren¡¯t that hard to drive on, and also that they¡¯re the most frightening types of roads out there. When we merged, it was simple since there wasn¡¯t any oncoming traffic¨Cwe could¡¯ve taken both lanes of the road if we wanted to. We were lucky that it was a calm time of the day traffic-wise. If we got on two hours earlier there would be a good chance that we would have to yield before getting on.


    During this time, I lounged back and closed my eyes. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve talked about this before, but I¡¯ve always had anxiety at the beginning of vacations. Of course, everyone hates driving for several hours in a row, but the unintelligible root of my anxiety was deeper than that. I had no idea where this anxiety came from, since I¡¯ve never been on a bad vacation. Many average ones, but never a bad one. It was the type of uneasiness that came from unfamiliarity. The same feeling I¡¯d get on the first day of school or a new job. The clearest reason why I had this anxiety was because I was afraid of change, even when that change was ¡®not working for a few days and being away from home¡¯. It would be a good change of pace, but taking that step to shift was the hardest part. I¡¯m sure being stuck in a car for seven hours was why I was feeling this way. It¡¯ll subside eventually¡ªwe¡¯re already 5% done with the drive! Might as well close my eyes until I fall asleep or become at peace with the world. Either one works.


    ¡ª-


    That comfort lasted for a little while¨Cfor about forty minutes until we hit the Atlanta traffic.


    Every city and state will claim to have the worst drivers, but as for cities that I¡¯ve driven in, Atlanta takes the cake when it comes to unpredictable drivers. They might as well be the same thing as ¡®bad drivers¡¯. Why they were so bad, there were a myriad of possibilities why.


    For one, there were a million cars in Atlanta going somewhere at some point during the day. Most of these cars got on the interstate¡ªthere were many interstates in the metro area, but definitely ¡®not enough¡¯. At first glance, the solution would obviously be to build more lanes and more roads. That way more cars can be on the road. That¡¯s the way it works in SimCity and Cities Skylines, right? Well, in real life, it doesn¡¯t work that way¡ªand to be honest, it doesn¡¯t work in video games either. Building more lanes in your Cities Skylines city may temporarily relieve congestion, but lo and behold, the same bottlenecks will eventually appear. Building more highways causes this issue as well. You can repeat the process, over and over again on a city-wide whack-a-mole trying to eliminate gridlock. You can¡¯t win¡ªnot in SimCity and sure as hell not in real life. The solution to this is diversifying the methods of transit. Instead of widening a highway, utilizing other methods of mass transit (trains, buses, subways, etc.) would be more effective in relieving congestion. Why then do cities continue to build and widen highways and interstates instead of building (safe) bike lanes and adding more bus stops? There are a million YouTube videos out there that explain why. The short of it is ideology and lobbying. Sunk-cost fallacy and the fact that most Americans are bred to love their cars. The car is a symbol of individual freedom¨Ctoo bad that the freedom to drive comes at the expense of taking the freedom away from other modes of transportation. For a good portion of Americans, driving isn¡¯t a way to get around, it¡¯s the only way to get around. All of this gets us the situation I¡¯m in now.


    ¡°Damnit, let me merge or I¡¯m going to start to cry here.¡± Michael wasn¡¯t having the best of times right now. I didn¡¯t exactly know what was going on just yet, just that we were in Atlanta. I still was lounged back, eyes closed, trying to get some more sleep. I¡¯m not exactly sure if I got any, but I know my eyes were closed the whole time. Michael was playing what seemed to be some songs from his Japanese coworkers. It wasn¡¯t that bad, although not something I¡¯d listen to usually.


    His voice was raised enough for me to open my eyes. I first looked to the left at him. He was gritting his teeth, gripping the steering wheel as if it was trying to run away.


    I pushed myself up without raising the seat back up. Looking around, it looked like he was trying to get his car to the right-most lane, where we could exit. Looking at the road sign above, it looked like we didn¡¯t need to merge¨Cwe were alright where we were. The GPS also said that the two right-most lanes get off.


    ¡°Let! Me!! Merge!!!¡± He was getting increasingly upset to the point where tears were coming out from the sides of his eyes. Damn, he¡¯s really getting upset about this. He hasn¡¯t even noticed that I got up. I need to calm him down quickly¡­


    ¡°Uhh¡­it looks like we don¡¯t need to move over.¡± Thankfully, I didn¡¯t startle him. He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, looked at the GPS, and said ¡°Oh.¡±


    With that out of the way, I went back down and closed my eyes again.


    ¡ª


    At around noon Central time (we had just exited Eastern time when I got up), I got Michael to stop for us to eat.


    After the whole traffic saga, I spent about two more hours with my eyes closed. Again, I don¡¯t know how long of that time was spent unconscious¨Call I know was that I had more quality sleep then than I did before.


    Michael had calmed down after the ordeal. As far as I knew, he didn¡¯t say another word from Atlanta until I woke up.


    We¡¯d been on the road for about three-and-a-half hours now, and I was starving. All I had for breakfast was one cup of coffee, and I made sure to piss that out before we left so I wasn¡¯t stuck in a situation where I had to piss in a bottle. Not a fun predicament¡­thankfully it¡¯s only happened to me twice.


    I¡¯m fine with my stomach rumbling and gurgling. It doesn¡¯t bother me in the least. I can live with it as long as it doesn¡¯t turn into pangs¡­which it did. I don¡¯t know why my stomach was so dramatic¨Cthe last time I ate was around sixteen hours ago! Not a terribly long time relative to how long one can (usually) go without eating anything. It was around now that I regretted not having a water bottle on me. I would most likely have to piss out the water I drank on the road, but it would also keep me from feeling like I would die if I didn¡¯t get anything to eat soon.


    With the pain waking me up from my eye-resting session, I got up, for good this time, and looked up restaurants near us.


    ¡°Are you hungry yet?¡±


    I asked that pro forma¨CI kinda knew that he would want to get at least a bite to eat by now. If not for anything else, to get his ass from the driver¡¯s seat for a few minutes.


    ¡°Yeah, why?¡±


    ¡°Is there any place you want to eat at?¡±


    ¡°Man, I don¡¯t really know this place¡­anywhere¡¯s fine. I need to pee pretty badly, so I''d prefer a place with a restroom.¡± I mean, you could¡¯ve stopped anytime¡­


    Looking at restaurants on the Maps app was never a good idea. I was getting results for restaurants not only in front of us, but also behind us. Annoying.


    Thankfully, the search was short¨Cexcluding all the places we already passed, we had¡­McDonald¡¯s¡­pass¡­Subway¡­pass¡­Dairy Queen¡­tempting, but pass¡­Waffle House¡­bingo, we got a winner.


    ¡°Let¡¯s stop at the Waffle House down the road. It should be a mile away on the left.¡±


    ¡°Waffle House? Do they have restrooms in there?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­yeah¡­¡± The quality of the restrooms varies by location, but there was no reason for a toilet to be messed up this early in the day.


    ¡ª


    About a minute later, I got Michael to stop at Waffle House.


    Waffle House''s were abundant in this region of America. Hell, we¡¯ve probably passed by twenty on our journey already. Unlike In-n-Out, there was nothing holding them back from being in all fifty states and on six continents, but nonetheless, they were mainly a southern thing¡­well, I say that, but each time I check, they¡¯ve expanded further out. They were as far west as Arizona and as far north as Pennsylvania. That was nothing compared to Chick-fil-A, which was in every state now. It was only a decade ago that they were in very hot water for their stance towards homosexuality. Has their stance changed? Many, me included, would say that the opinions of those at the helm probably haven¡¯t changed any, even if the face has. They¡¯re still Southern Baptist as hell, that¡¯s for sure. The chicken isn¡¯t as good as some in my neck of the woods would claim it to be, but I would be a liar if I said that it wasn¡¯t good. I prefer Zaxby''s and Bojangles when it comes to fast food chicken, but I won¡¯t refuse some Chick-fil-A if offered.


    This location was situated in between a parking plaza and a Days Inn. Taking an afternoon nap in a hotel room after eating lunch sounded good in theory, but the fact that I just got done (trying) to sleep was the biggest thing in the way of exploring the silly hypothetical. In reality, the Days Inn bed would hardly be any better than a reclined passenger¡¯s seat¡ªMichael¡¯s car seats probably had more cushion!


    While parking, Michael mentioned that this would be the first time that he would be eating at Waffle House. Guess that explains why he asked if they had restrooms. That being said, I still was somewhat shocked that he hadn¡¯t had it at least once.


    ¡°Not even delivery?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never eaten at a Waffle House, not even delivery?¡±


    ¡°Nope. Not once.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve lived here for this long and haven¡¯t had it once?¡±


    We temporarily paused our conversation to get out of the car. Walking up to the door, Michael replied, ¡°Well, I¡¯ve only lived in this region for two years. Is that really surprising?¡± Yeah, kinda.


    ¡°Oh come on, they have them in Arizona and Colorado now. It¡¯s no¨C¡±


    ¡°Welcome to Waffle House, y¡¯all can sit wherever you want¡±, I was not-so-rudely interrupted by an employee behind the counter. This place was a restaurant where you picked where you sat and got served there. Waffle House always had bar seating available it seemed, but it wasn¡¯t the ideal place to eat in my opinion. Too messy. The booths were way better. The thing about Waffle House is that they all look the same¨Cnot just the outside, but the inside is always the same. The only difference is that some are mirrored right, and some are mirrored left, some being slightly wider than the others. They all had the same ¡®shoebox¡¯ design. Also, the jukebox differs by location. The confines of a Waffle House were quite small, all things considered. It must be claustrophobic to work behind the counter there, but I¡¯ve never seen an employee get more upset than kicking a metal cabinet. He had shoes on so he avoided hurting his toes, unlike me. Man, that was only six months ago, huh. Felt like a lifetime ago.


    Once he was fully inside, Michael first looked right, where the dining area was, and then to the left, where the restrooms were.


    His pace picked up, ¡°I¡¯ll be right back!¡±


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll pick us a booth.¡±


    ¡ª


    Michael was back within a minute.


    ¡°Man, that restroom looked derelict¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey, at least it was functional...anyways, it¡¯s not like they¡¯re only in former CSA states.¡±


    Michael gave me a puzzled look, like I said something weird. Before he could respond, our waitress came.


    ¡°Welcome to Waffle House, I¡¯m Shelly¨Cwhat ya¡¯ll want to drink?¡±


    ¡°Coffee with milk.¡± ¡°Same as him.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll have that out and I¡¯ll take the rest of your order then.¡± She walked away to get our coffee. I hope Michael looks at the menu while talking because she¡¯ll be back before we know it.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve only passed through Arizona and never have been in Colorado, so yeah¡­and ¡®former CSA states¡¯?¡±


    Oh, I can see why he was confused. ¡°¡®Confederate States of America¡¯, sorry¡­anyway, you didn¡¯t even stop by while driving across the country?¡± Thank goodness there wasn¡¯t anyone near us. What else could ¡®CSA¡¯ stand for¡­now that I think of it, there isn¡¯t anything good that has the acronym ¡®CSA¡¯.


    ¡°No. I ate at gas stations and McDonald''s.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­Well, I won¡¯t oversell you on this place like others will, but it¡¯s the perfect place to eat when you¡¯re on the road. Also when you¡¯re drunk off your ass¡­¡± Any fast food is great when you¡¯re wasted, but Waffle House was pound-for-pound the best option, in my opinion. ¡°The best part is that the price point is comparable to¡­In-N-Out?¡±


    The In-N-Out comparison was flimsy, but made sense to me, considering that they were both regional chains with low prices and a fanbase that would fight those who said otherwise¡­okay, Waffle House couldn¡¯t be considered ¡®regional¡¯ anymore, but it¡¯s still thought of as a regional chain.


    ¡°Uh huh¡­these prices are rather low¡­not as low as In-N-Out though¡­¡±


    While he was flipping the menu back and forth and probably reminiscing about other West Coast-based fast food chains, our waitress came back, ¡°Are y¡¯all ready to order?¡±


    Seeing that Michael was still looking, I decided to order first. ¡°I¡¯ll get a Bacon Texas Cheesesteak Melt, with a side of hashbrowns, smothered and covered.¡± Since it was already past noon, I might as well get a lunch meal and not breakfast. Not that I¡¯ve ever cared about time constraints when it came to meals, but I don¡¯t feel like breakfast at this time. Well, other than hashbrowns, I don¡¯t feel like breakfast.


    After she was done writing down my order, she turned to Michael and said ¡°Alright, and what about you, hon?¡± Michael was still looking at the menu with great intensity, but it seemed like he knew what he wanted.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get¡­uhh¡­two waffles, with¡­chocolate and peanut butter chips on it.¡±


    ¡°Alright hon, I¡¯ll get that right out.¡± Wonder why she didn¡¯t call me ¡®hon¡¯ once¡­


    Moving back, I had to take note of Michael¡¯s choice, ¡°Wow, two waffles?¡±


    ¡°What? Is that weird?¡±


    ¡°Not really, but in the many times I¡¯ve been here, I¡¯ve never ordered or seen anyone order a double waffle.¡±


    Michael cocked a sardonic grin and replied ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s because you¡¯re boring.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I knew he was joking around, but I had to reply to his dig, ¡°Damn, that¡¯s quite a shot coming from someone that had to be forced to go outside by his coworker.¡±


    His smile slowly faded away as he looked out the window to his left and muttered ¡°...yeah, whatever.¡±


    Changing the subject, I asked, ¡°By the way, when is Dusty and Yuji going to arrive?¡± I knew they were flying in, but I had no idea what time they were coming in. I could¡¯ve probably just looked at my phone, but I knew Michael would know.


    ¡°He said that he¡¯d get there a bit earlier than us¡­his flight comes in at 1.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, I see. Hope the room is ready for him.¡±


    ¡°He said that he was going to wait for Yuji to arrive before he came to the hotel.¡±


    ¡°What time is Yuji arriving?¡±


    ¡°At 2¡­I thought you would know this already.¡±


    ¡°Oh sorry, I haven¡¯t checked any messages in there.¡± To be honest, I muted notifications from the group chat a few weeks ago. I only checked in on it occasionally¨Cthere wasn¡¯t really any reason to be constantly up to date on it in my opinion. It also was very annoying to get buzzes from my phone every time a message appeared.


    ¡°Well, at least he¡¯d be inside with the AC. I¡¯m sure he can entertain himself¡± Better than waiting in the summer heat. I highly doubt the Panama City airport was state-of-the-art, but I knew that they would have AC.


    ¡°It¡¯s an airport¨Che¡¯ll survive for an hour.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it seems like he¡¯s a big boy,¡± at least compared to you and Yuji ¡°¡­by the way, why did you get chocolate chip AND peanut butter chips?¡±


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    He simply shrugged and said, ¡°Well, why not?¡±


    I had nothing to come back with¨CI mean, he had a point. There wasn¡¯t a reason not to be decadent in this case. All I hoped was that the waffles weren¡¯t too sweet for him.


    ¡ª


    One much needed meal later, we were back down on the road to Panama City Beach. At this point, it was quite literally a road¨Cor a highway for that matter. There were still three hours left on our journey. After I got back on the road, there was only one instruction from the GPS.


    [¡°Follow US-431 South for 177 miles, then turn right on East 6th Street.¡±]


    Thankfully I didn''t have to navigate through traffic on the interstate and lose my head about it. Not that traffic would ever be too much of an issue, since we were in the middle of nowhere.


    With me at the helm, I had my phone plugged in and music playing. I had a feeling that Michael would eventually fall asleep, especially the meal we just ate¨Cwhen he did, I was going to put on my Formula 1 podcasts to listen to¡­thinking about it now, my podcasts would probably put him to sleep sooner, but that also had the risk of him talking above it. The title fight this year was non-existent¨Canyone paying attention knew that Max Verstappen was going to win his third title this year. The question there was when and where, not who. There was a lot more to Formula 1 than who placed first however. The internal politics of Formula 1 fascinated me almost as much as the on-the-track action did at times. Too much to get into now, but the new era that Formula 1 was in¨Cone that not only had the glitz and glamor that was so often associated with the motorsport, but a ¡®cost cap¡¯ that limited team spending to $135 million dollars per year. In other words, it was the first time in¡­maybe forever that racing in Formula 1 was actually profitable. There was no need for ¡®pay drivers¡¯ anymore, and the intervals between first and last was at the smallest it had ever been. You wouldn¡¯t ever know that, looking at how Max is destroying the competition, but that¡¯s motorsport sometimes. The history also fascinated me¨Cwhile movies such as Rush that beautifully show the stories of certain drivers, watching the first-hand account of said events was as exciting, if not more. The engineering, while cool to hear about, often went over my head. Another reason I should¡¯ve gone to school for it.


    For some reason, I started to think about how I ended up going on this trip. I was invited by my roommate, who is going on a ¡®work trip¡¯, if we¡¯re stating it nicely. There were many questions that I had wanted to ask Michael, but this one had bothered me the most. Well, at least at one point in time it did. Now, it didn¡¯t matter that much. I still wanted to get the question answered. Just so I never have to think about it again.


    ¡°Did you really not know who the other Francis was when choosing your name?¡±


    ¡°The other what?¡± Michael was somewhat confused by my question. In my head, I knew perfectly well what I was asking, but it took him some time to get what I was asking¡­ ¡°...Do you mean the other guy with the same name?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°No, no I didn¡¯t.¡± His stern response indicated that he seemed quite annoyed at the question. I¡¯m guessing because there have been probably a million instances in his chat where random people ask the same thing. That annoyance was understandable, but at the same time, I couldn¡¯t help but to chuckle at his dismay. It was an easily avoidable coincidence.


    ¡°That¡¯s too funny.¡±


    ¡°Why? Also, who the hell even is this other ¡®Francis¡¯? I¡¯ve heard about him ever since I debuted, and whenever I google him, all I see is some old professor guy? Every one who mentions him acts like he¡¯s some important man in politics, but no one has ever told me why he¡¯s so important.¡±


    Having a Political Science degree, I could understand his frustration. Not with the other Fukuyama himself, but with the constant throwing of his name around for no other reason than the fact that you know about him. On social media, you often see him mentioned with only the slightest of relevance to the actual topic at hand. I don¡¯t know much more about him, other than what I read in his book The End of History and the Last Man.


    ¡°Well, he¡¯s kinda important¡­depends on which way you look about it.¡±


    ¡°You should know about him, going to school for politics.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, yes.¡± I¡¯ve only ever read his famous article as a class assignment, but yes, I knew of him. Reading the book based on the article came after graduation.


    ¡°Why is he so notorious?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­uhhh¡­¡± I was having a hard time trying to find words to ¡®describe¡¯ him¨Cespecially it wasn¡¯t because of his actions that made him famous, but his words, ¡°You know about the phrase ¡®End of History¡¯ right?¡±


    Another sigh came out of his mouth, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve heard of it¡­spammed in chat thousands of times by now.¡±


    ¡°Well, he¡¯s known for coining that phrase.¡±


    ¡°I assumed that much, but what does it mean? Why does it matter so much?¡±


    ¡°The ¡®End of History¡¯...to explain it in his eyes¡­uhh¡­it means that the end point of our society revolves around living in a democratic society¨Cone that is free of totalitarianism and authoritarianism from any political extreme. To Francis, liberal democracy is the ¡®end goal¡¯ of any country.¡±


    ¡°How is that the ¡®end¡¯ of history?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the ¡®end¡¯ as in there¡¯s no better alternative¡­as for ¡®history¡¯, he means history as an evolutionary process. It originates from Hegel.¡±


    ¡°Hegel?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Hegel was too big-brained for me to even attempt to describe. It¡¯s something I know I should change, but the level of attention I would need to pay to the pages is something that isn¡¯t achievable most days. I feel like I¡¯d have to learn German to be able to read him. Perhaps I¡¯m just a moron.


    ¡°Okay¡­and why does everyone care so much about him? I still don¡¯t get it¨Cwhy does he matter?¡±


    ¡°I think¡­it has more to do with when he said it more than anything else. It was coined by him around the end of the Cold War, when the Soviet Union and the rest of the Second World was going through massive socioeconomic changes. At the time, it seemed like the ¡®end¡¯ of the conflict of ¡®Capitalism versus Communism¡¯ and of ¡®Democracy versus Authoritarianism¡¯ was coming. In a sense, Francis was removing the final step of Marx¡¯s ideal ¡®communist utopia¡¯ and declaring that we, the human race, have perhaps achieved the ¡®ideal¡¯ as a liberal capitalist society.¡±


    ¡°Not to knock my unintentional namesake¡­but it seems like shit around the world has gotten very hectic in the last decade.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± it was hard to refute what Michael said, because, yes, events keep happening. It¡¯s ¡®history¡¯ in the traditional sense, but not in the way Fukuyama means. Of course, it¡¯s beneficial to Fukuyama to go ¡®yeah, but technically¡­¡¯ anytime when you¡¯re proven wrong¨Cthat was the name of the game of political science. But to be fair to him, those who he would regard as ¡®strongmen¡¯ that have popped up have as often been defeated. Throughout time, it seems that ¡®liberal democracy¡¯ wins out way more than it loses. Yes, this has a lot to do with external factors, such as ¡®the market¡¯ preferring conditions where tensions are low and where citizens at least have a shred of political freedom. ¡°...well, all I can say is that it¡¯s his theory.¡±


    ¡°Do you believe it then?¡±


    I didn¡¯t want to inject more of my personal opinion into this, but Michael was pushing for a definite answer. ¡°...No¡­¡± I hated answering ¡®Yes and no¡¯ to questions like this, but it was the only way I could say what I wanted to say. ¡°That being said, it¡­it doesn¡¯t really matter if I ¡®believe¡¯ it or not. While I personally believe that we aren¡¯t nearing the ¡®End of History¡¯ whatsoever, I can see why he would¡¯ve thought it at the time¡­¡± Well, other than that history as a dialectical process is still ongoing and won¡¯t end possibly ever. There have been many in Washington and in the media that have tried to hype up other countries like China and Russia as the new ¡®existential threat¡¯ to liberal democracy, but I find those calls to be ludicrous. One problem for the United States is that since the fall of the USSR, the government hasn¡¯t been able to find a boogeyman as convincing and as ¡®real¡¯ as Soviet Communism. There was a period in the early 2000s where ¡®radical Islamic terrorism¡¯ was made to occupy that position, but as everyone knows, that didn¡¯t last long. The ¡®War on Terror¡¯ ceased to be effective to the American public in the mid-2000s, and was officially abandoned as a term by the next decade. What was at once a rallying cry for George Bush became a phrase to mock him by. The point is that even ¡®liberal democracies¡¯ like the United States need an enemy in order to have something to rally around. Some observers, like myself, would chime in to say that periods like the War on Terror were also times when America became less liberal of a place to live in, especially if you were anti-war, or god forbid, Middle-Eastern. Fukuyama would probably point out that this is different from the ¡®Universal History¡¯ that he and others have formulated. Telling Michael all of that would only serve to confuse him¨Cthere¡¯s no telling how much of what I was saying was considered ¡®word salad¡¯ already.


    ¡°Uh huh¡­I¡¯m more confused than I was before¡­¡± You wouldn¡¯t be the first one.


    ¡°It¡¯s a nebulous concept.¡± I¡¯m sure Fukuyama could dumb it down for Michael, but I¡¯m too mush-mouthed in the first place to succeed. Should¡¯ve known better. ¡°Let me put it this way. Whenever someone who doesn¡¯t like you states that you¡¯re ¡®The End of VTubing¡¯, they¡¯re actually stating that you¡¯re the ideal Virtual YouTuber, meaning that there doesn¡¯t need to be any further modifications. You¡¯re perfect, or about as perfect as perfect can get.¡±


    ¡°But those are my antis that are saying that. Aren¡¯t they implying that it¡¯s a bad thing?¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s just say that your antis aren¡¯t the smartest people around.¡±


    ¡°You can say that again.¡± he chuckled. I mean, I wasn¡¯t wrong. To spend your time hating on a VTuber was a bit pointless. It seemed that it didn¡¯t really get to Michael all that much, and that he instead found his antis rather annoying.


    ¡°In reality, ¡®The End of VTubing¡¯ isn¡¯t even a good phrase, because it implies that there can be an ideal VTuber for everyone. Popularity aside, you know full well that there¡¯s no VTuber that everyone likes. Especially ones like you, who happen to have a penis. Hell, I¡¯d say that most people watch you guys because you¡¯re imperfections, not in spite. The comparison makes zero sense.¡±


    ¡°To me, most things you¡¯ve said in the last few minutes have made zero sense.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m kinda bad at explaining these things¡± I really was¨CI¡¯ve always been. It¡¯s why I always said ¡°nothing much¡± whenever a parent asked me how school was as a child. It wasn¡¯t that school was bad, it was just that I wasn¡¯t mentally able to explain what was taught at school without getting too lost in the details.


    Waving me off, he said, ¡°No, don¡¯t worry¨Cit¡¯s the subject matter, not you.¡±


    ¡°Ah, thanks, I guess¡­¡±


    Out of the blue, he said ¡°How did the interstate naming system come to be?¡±


    I turned my head to him, ¡°You mean like the numbers and all of that?¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± He was absent-mindedly staring at his phone, only stopping to look at me when I glanced at him, ¡°seems like you''d know why it is.¡±


    All I did was let out a laugh, because, yes, I did know how the interstates were named. Albeit, it wasn¡¯t something I learned at school¨Cit was a Wikipedia page that taught me! Wikipedia has gotten a bad reputation from professors and teachers throughout the years, but as someone who has vandalized pages occasionally for over a decade now, it is way harder to do it now than it was when I was in high school. In fact, it has been hard for a long time now. Any page that gets constant traffic is unfuckwithable. It¡¯s impossible to do something funny to the page for Albania or Gerald Ford. You have to find a less-used, less-moderated, page in order to do a vandalization that lasts more than a few seconds. Of course, none of you reading this are interested in spreading misinformation! The point is that while you shouldn¡¯t ever source it in an assignment, Wikipedia is a good resource if you want to look something up. It¡¯s the easiest way to sound like you know a lot about something when you really only learned about the subject matter the day before.


    Ending my inner monologue, I said, ¡°Well, it¡¯s more simple than it seems¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah?¡± He put his phone away.


    ¡°Well, you know how you were driving on I-85 earlier?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m sure you know of I-5 on the West Coast?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Well, the way the numbering system works is that interstates that are shaped vertically end with the number ¡®5¡¯, while interstates that are shaped horizontally end with ¡®0¡¯. The interstates that end with ¡®5¡¯ start on the West Coast, and go east all the way to I-95, which mostly runs parallel to the Atlantic Ocean.¡±


    ¡°So, this interstate we were on¡­I-85¡­right?¡± I nodded, even though I just said it was a few seconds ago¡­whatever. He continued, ¡°This interstate is next to I-95, right?¡± I nodded again, ¡°And there¡¯s an I-75 and all of that.¡±


    ¡°Correct¡­¡± I struggled to find the words to move on with, ¡°...and the interstates that end with ¡®0¡¯ start at the Southern border. You know I-10?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it was in LA.¡±


    ¡°Right. And you used it for a while moving here right?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­no?¡± I looked at him somewhat shocked. I was exposed for a fake transit head¡­he now knew that I only had read the Wikipedia page¡­¡°...if I remember correctly, I drove on I-40 for like a thousand miles instead.¡± Thankfully, be brushed my error off.


    ¡°I-40?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I got on it in like Barstow and drove it all the way to like Tennessee. Now that I think about it, it was more like two thousand miles.¡±


    ¡°Oh wow.¡± I honestly had never been on it before. The more you know. ¡°...anyways, you know how I-40 went west to east and vice versa?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°And I-10 does the same thing.¡±


    ¡°Uh huh¡­¡±


    ¡°And it goes all the way up to I-90, which is way up north.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­¡± He was now typing something on his phone¡­man, was he evening listening? Oh well, time to listen to my podcasts.


    ¡ª


    For the next hour, Michael said nothing. He was first on his phone, doing whatever¨Cafter a while, he fell asleep. I was amazed that he could fall asleep without reclining the passenger side seat. Some people just have that power I guess.


    Driving the 431 through Alabama was about as fun as you could expect. Driving straight down, the only respite was that there weren¡¯t many red lights and not a stop sign in sight. The only thing keeping the time from feeling like it was standing still was the fact that I was speeding. Podcasts also helped a little as well. This was a road less traveled, so traffic wasn¡¯t an issue, outside of the twenty minutes I was in Dothan. Jean did tell me about there being a ¡®roundabout that¡¯s faster¡¯¨CI think what she meant to tell me is that there was a beltway that skipped having to drive through town. According to the GPS, both ways took about the same time. Going through the beltway would¡¯ve probably felt faster though.


    We had just entered the state of Florida when Michael¡¯s phone, sitting out in one of the cup holders, started shaking. I ignored it at first, assuming that it was a push notification, but as the buzzing continued, I couldn¡¯t resist the urge to grab it.


    He was getting a Discord call from ¡®Dusty Wallace¡¯¨Cseeing that Michael wasn¡¯t even getting stirred up hearing his phone go off, I decided to answer for him.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Francis? Hello?¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± I had forgotten that I¡¯ve technically never spoken to Dusty voice-to-voice until now, so he had no idea who answered, ¡°This is the roommate.¡±


    ¡°Oh, hey roomie-chan¡­what¡¯s Francis doing?¡±


    Didn¡¯t expect the ¡®-chan¡¯, but I won¡¯t question it for now. ¡°He¡¯s sound asleep.¡±


    ¡°Ahh, I see. Typical.¡± Well at least it wasn¡¯t only me that got inconvenienced by Michael at times, ¡°Anyways, I just wanted to tell y¡¯all that Yuji and I have checked into the room.¡±


    ¡°Oh sweet.¡± I thought that it would still be some time until they got there¡­Yuji¡¯s flight must¡¯ve been ahead of time.


    ¡°How far away are y¡¯all?¡±


    ¡°Uhh¡­¡± Looking at the GPS, it seemed that we were still about eighty minutes away from the hotel, ¡°my ETA is about an hour if we don¡¯t get stuck in traffic.¡±


    ¡°Alright, understood.¡± In the background, I could hear another voice saying ¡°when is Francis arriving?¡± The voice got closer and closer, until it was the once holding the phone. I assumed at least.


    ¡°Frankie, when you arriving man?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­soon?¡± I could only assume that this was Yuji who was speaking now¡­


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re the roommate right?¡±


    Before I could reply with ¡°Yep¡±, Yuji answered his own question, ¡°What is up my man? Is Frankie at the wheel or something?¡±


    ¡°No, he¡¯s sleeping right beside me.¡± Still was somehow.


    ¡°Ahh I see¡­so you¡¯re driving while talking on the phone?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡± Breaking the law. Technically I was breaking two laws, going 15 over the speed limit. I haven¡¯t seen a cop car ever since we left the town the Waffle House was at, so my guard was down.


    ¡°Damn, Frankie really is making you do all the work, huh?¡±


    I mean, he did drive the first half of the trip, but he wasn¡¯t here to respond at the moment, so¡­ ¡°Yeah, we ate breakfast and he¡¯s been sound asleep ever since.¡±


    ¡°Haha, gotta love him.¡±


    ¡°Gotta live with him too.¡± Yuji had a fast-talking style that would be great for talk radio if he ever got the bug to scare old people and sell supplements. He had the accent of a ninja turtle, which only made me think I was talking to one. Not verbose enough to be Limbaugh, but he could find his own lane. His model, from what I remember, was more of a thin-set, or rather ¡®twinkish¡¯, if you want to go that far. The only options male VTubers had were ¡®ikeman¡¯, ¡®twink¡¯, or ¡®furry¡¯ it seemed. No ¡®normal¡¯ looking models. To be fair, female VTubers had similar constraints.


    ¡°Ha, well it was nice talking to you man. I¡¯ll get off the phone before you get pulled over!¡±


    ¡°Ah alright¡­we¡¯ll be seeing you in a hour as well, if traffic doesn¡¯t get in the way.¡± Really, it wasn¡¯t that big of a deal that I was on the phone, since the road I was on was pretty much near damn empty. Not a lot of concentration is needed to drive this. Cops would probably say otherwise, so I went along with Yuji. We were going to meet face-to-face soon anyways, so no need to talk all the way down there.


    ¡ª


    It was around 3 PM. An hour and some change passed, and we were finally about to pull in to our hotel. Getting to Panama City Beach thankfully wasn¡¯t any more difficult than advertised. The hardest part was finding the road that actually led to the beach. Thankfully the right choice required me to keep going straight. In Panama City Beach, three roads run diagonally to the beach. The first one, which was right next to the beach, was named Front Beach Road accordingly. The second road, Middle Beach Road, which was in between Front Beach Road and Panama City Beach Parkway, was only a few hundred feet from the beach. It was split from Front Beach Road by a Walmart and was only a few miles long. The third road, which was named Panama City Beach Parkway and began a mile away from the beach, and slowly drifted towards it, until it merged with Front Beach Road around the boundaries of Panama City Beach. It was a road that served as the northern border for larger developments in the area, such as the ¡®Pier Park¡¯ outdoor mall complex. It had some interesting things on it as well, such as a Culver¡¯s and a Whataburger¡­okay, maybe that wasn¡¯t interesting to most people reading this, but I¡¯ve never eaten at either place, and was looking forward to changing that. Michael¡¯s car would be readily available, so I could go to either place whenever I wanted theoretically. That would be a bit time-consuming though, and not exactly how I want to spend my vacation time. Above all else, I wanted to relax. I could always just DoorDash it. It¡¯s what Michael and the other two would probably do.


    Map of Panama City Beach¨Csomewhat outdated, but the roads are the same.


    As I drove onto the portion of Front Beach Road that was parallel with the Gulf of Mexico, the road was made to look more narrow than it was¨Cin reality, it was a five-lane road with the middle operating as a median, but the outer two lanes had ¡®ONLY TRAM BIKE¡¯ painted over asphalt that was coated in brown to denote that it was not for your vehicle. On my short trek, I only saw a few bikes on it¨Cseeing as there were no lines for one, they meant ¡®bus¡¯ when they said ¡®tram¡¯. Beggars can¡¯t be choosers. I¡¯m surprised they went as far to build lanes solely for public transportation and bicycles. I also saw a golf cart on it, so I guess that was the compromise.


    The foliage was what you would expect from a beach¨Cpalm trees galore, perfectly trimmed grass and hedges in the places the county or a resort owned, and not-so-perfectly trimmed grass in places the county also probably owned. It was generic for a beach, but I still welcomed the change. South Carolina is already green as it gets, but Panama City Beach was a lot more tropical while Upstate South Carolina was more temperate. I wouldn¡¯t call the weather back home ¡®mild¡¯ in any way, but that¡¯s what it was categorized as. And it is definitely more humid down here. No question.


    Our destination was only a short drive on Front Beach Road¨CI almost missed it since we had to perform what was the hardest part; entering the hotel. The entrance came up suddenly. There was no sign to signify where to turn into. It was pure luck (and the fact we were only going thirty miles per hour) that I didn¡¯t pass it.


    This hotel had its parking lot located internally, occupying the first three floors of the seventeen-story building. I had to type in a four-digit code to open the gate that allowed me to enter the lot. I can only thank Dusty for sending Michael the pass. The entrance was to the side¨Cthere was also an exitway in the front that looked like an entryway if you weren¡¯t paying attention. It was impossible to enter as it was blocked by a gate, but upon first look, one might confuse it for an entrance. A car could open it from the inside, but I have a feeling you¡¯d Once I figured that out, my fears about the parking lot were mostly erased. Go right, not straight. Once I was stopped by the bar gate, I typed in the code to open it and the sliding gate behind it.


    Overhead drawing of the entrance¡ªdoesn¡¯t account for the decline leading to the exit or how the entrance sneaks up on you. Drawing more crude than usual since I don''t have a computer on me.


    For the first two floors, about half of the parking lot was empty. Normally I would go ahead and park in one of those spaces, but I wasn¡¯t able to. All of those spots had ¡®FOR MEMBER NO. 1XX¡¯ in blue paint on the concrete wall in front of it. Some of those spaces were taken, but for the most part, it was empty. For the other half of the parking spots on the first two floors, they had nothing painted on the front of it. The only spaces open were ones that I would have to back into for optimal positioning. That was one of the things I never wanted to do. Sounds odd, I know, but I hate doing it. There were also spots that were rendered useless by there being no space given by vehicles parked beside them. That was always annoying to see.


    Upon arriving at the interior of the third floor, the parking lot became a lot more empty, with the interior also having none of the writing on concrete that was on the two lower floors.


    Turning left, I decided to park in the middle space, since it was available. All I had to do was take a sharp right, which was exactly what I did.


    Turning right, I slowed down gradually, until I was probably two feet away from the concrete wall.


    I put Michael''s car in park and opened my door to see if I parked well¡­no, it was a bit crooked¡­


    ¡°You parked a bit crooked!¡±


    I looked to my left, where the voice came from. There was a door that led to an elevator, which I imagined was the one that would lead us to our room. In front of it, was a rather lanky-looking man who was wearing a black T-shirt and black athletic shorts. He seemed to be smiling, enjoying the fact that I would have to straighten my car. For a few seconds, I didn¡¯t know who this man was. I couldn¡¯t stop to think ¡°Who the fuck is this dickhead?¡±


    ¡°Shut up dickhead!¡± ¨C that was not from me, but from Michael, who was out of the car and stretching. I technically wasn¡¯t finished parking yet, but there was nothing stopping him from getting some fresh air. Other than that the chance I could run over his feet adjusting my position. Right now, I was more preoccupied with how my mind had been read by two people¡­


    I ignored Michael, as he began to walk towards the stranger that had scathing criticism of my parking skills. I assumed it was Dusty, based off his voice, and the fact that Michael had challenged him right back instead of staying silent. I still had no idea what they looked like in real life. I can fully understand why, but I would rather at least know what they looked like before meeting them.


    On my second try, I ended up being within the white lines. I hopped out of the car to do the same thing that Michael did.


    Once I opened my eyes and quit yawning and stretching, I looked in the direction of Michael. He was talking to the ¡®dickhead¡¯, and another man, who was also wearing all black. Albeit, he was wearing black jeans as it looked like. I hope they have more of a variety of clothes. All black all the time gets boring eventually. He was a head shorter than Michael and almost two heads shorter than who I assumed Dusty was. Had to be Yuji.


    The journey was over. Now it was time for exploration. The worst feeling when going on vacation is when you¡¯re in between driving and arriving. In those moments, you¡¯re pretty much homeless. Sure, I could turn around and go back home, but that¡¯s another seven-hour trek, and I already did that today. There¡¯s also a thought in the back in the head that pays ¡°what if you got scammed?¡± What if you paid thousands of dollars just to be told that you do NOT in fact have a reservation? As an adult, I¡¯ve never had this happen, but as a kid I was held by a whim to my parent''s mishaps and jumps to conclusions. As an adult, I still have terrible memories of those times¡ªit happened a lot more than it should. Maybe that¡¯s why I was uneasy leaving today. Right now, I could relax. Everything was already sorted, and even if it wasn¡¯t, I didn¡¯t have to rely on others to fix it. Unlike back then, I have control of my own destiny. Let¡¯s have some fun.