It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and we had discovered that Lulu Attack should not be mixed with alcohol. Apparently, the warning wasn’t just for drunkards.
My brother had canceled his subscription to Leah’s Patreon, but Leah had made me send him a free code.
I hoped that meant Claire and Philip were still dating. And perhaps Leah was a little ashamed of how she’d behaved.
Leah had spent most of Friday nursing the biggest hangover I’d ever seen, and we’d both decided not to talk about what happened at my parents’ place.
We were sitting around the kitchen island having our Sunday breakfast.
“I need to put a few hours into VV today,” Leah said.
“On a Sunday?” I asked, surprised.
“Unfortunately, there are a few hotels and flights that need booking, and I need to send some portfolios to some organizers.”
“When are you gonna hire an assistant?”
Leah took a deep breath.
“I know. I really need to get to work on that.”
“Can’t you get TEG to do that? Or is that a no-no?”
“It’s a big no-no. This is VV business, and I don’t want Loriel involved.”
“Loriel?”
“Loriel is basically the Borg, but for HR.”
“So she’s made up of thousands of tiny HR ladies?”
“No, Mia. She sucks up everything and assimilates it into her own work domain.”
“Oh, like Kirby?”
Leah stared at me.
“Yes, Mia. Loriel is Kirby.”
“She sounds delightful.”
Leah waved her hands and smiled.
“What are you planning to do today?”
I considered that.
“Absolutely nothing.”
“An ambitious schedule.”
“I might take a nap halfway through.”
“Actually, would you mind picking something up for me?”
“There goes my nap.”
“It’s Dan’s Christmas present.”
“Oh? What did you get him?”
“An original concert poster. It’s signed, and I had it restored and framed.”
“For who?”
“Nine Inch Nails.”
“The guy who won a country music award?”
“Yes, Mia. Trent Reznor. Nine Inch Nails.”
“Weird.”
“He used to make industrial rock.”
“And now he makes country music?”
Leah gave me a look.
“No, Mia.”
I gave her a look.
“Anyway. Dan saw them at Barclays Center in 2013.”
“He did?”
“Apparently it was one of the best nights of his life.”
“He never told me that.”
“Did you ever ask him about his favourite concerts?”
I considered that.
“Dan is private. He didn’t even show me his place until several months into dating. I knew he was into music, but that was never something I was interested in. I don’t think Dan could tell you my favorite book.”
“Neverwhere.”
“I never told you that?”
“You have two copies. One is in a sleeve, and the other looks like it’s been read a hundred times. None of your other books are in sleeves.”
I gave her a suspicious look.
“Okay, Sherlock. Where is this pickup?”
“Posterfix. Brooklyn Navy Yard.”
“Okay, my nap is definitely canceled.”
“And if you can pick up lunch on the way back, that would be great.”
“You are just so nice to me today.”
Leah smiled.
“They’re not open today, so call this number when you get there.”
She handed me a business card.
“Can I use Thomas?”
“I would really prefer that you called it the car service.”
“You know what I mean. It’s Sunday. He’ll be paid double.”
“Fine. Use my corporate car service to further the exploitation of the working class.”
“I’m literally redistributing wealth, Leah.”
Leah sighed and rolled her eyes.
“There is no ethical consumption under capitalism.”
“See? You’re getting it.”
I used the app and saw that Thomas was indeed my driver for today.
“Nice.”
He was outside my building twenty minutes later.
“Thomas!” I said as he held the door open for me.
“Miss Mia,” he replied, giving a nod of his head.
“You know what? I’ll allow Miss Mia. I’d prefer Mia, but if that’s too far for you, it’s fine.”
He got into the driver’s seat and started the car. After checking the map, he set the route.
“I see we’re heading to Brooklyn today. What’s the occasion?”
“We’re picking up a Christmas gift for a friend of ours. It’s a poster from a concert he went to when he was eighteen. It’s signed, and Leah had it fully restored and framed.”
“Miss Takahashi has spent some time finding the perfect gift, it sounds like.”
“Leah,” I corrected him, but didn’t push it. “And we’re both really close to him. He deserves it.”
“I’m sure he is worth it, Miss Mia.”
“Leah is better at these things than me.”
“Any plans on what you’ll give Miss Leah for Christmas?”
I hadn’t actually given this much thought. I realized that Leah had been rather excellent at gift-giving. This one for Dan, and my birthday… Well, it was an experience I wouldn’t soon forget.
“I actually don’t know. It’s hard to buy something for someone who has everything, you know?”
“It’s usually not about the cost, but what it says about the giver.”
Thomas was right, of course. The gift Dan was getting was probably expensive, but the real effort had gone into finding it and remembering why it mattered to him.
I tried to think about Leah and what was important to her.
“You drive a lot of rich people around? What do they usually like?”
“I don’t think you should take wealth into account when thinking about the ideal gift for your partner.”
“Why? Rich people bad at gifts?”
“Wealth doesn’t make people good or bad at giving gifts. It makes them more capable of doing what they want.”
“But all money corrupts, though?”
“Do you feel yourself being corrupted, Miss Mia?”
“I don’t have money. Leah has all the money in this relationship.”
“Half my trips are for wives whose wealth comes from their husbands.”
“Yeah, but they’re married. Leah and I are just dating.”
I could see his eyes in the rearview mirror. He clearly had an argument ready, but was too professional to say it.
“Fine, okay, we’re maybe more than dating. But we’re not married.”
“Most of the wives I drive around have prenups. So if they split from their husbands, they wouldn’t be able to afford me driving them around anymore. Do you see that as much different from where you’re sitting now?”
I felt my proletarian identity take a hit. Thomas was right. I was driving around in a chauffeured car and living in an extravagant penthouse. No amount of working a desk job could cover up my bourgeois lifestyle. Even my paycheck for my labor was a joke. I shared no bills with Leah, and outside of my phone bill, my Amazon Prime sub, our Disney+ subscription, and occasional grocery runs to supplement whatever Leah had delivered, I spent perhaps 10% of my paycheck each month.
I was far from struggling.
“Fuck.”
“Something wrong, Miss Mia?”
“I think you just turned me into a class traitor.”
Thomas laughed.
“I’m fairly certain Miss Leah did that before I came along.”
“You’re not wrong.” While I didn’t think it was wealth that made me attracted to Leah, I never objected to her spending money on me. Well, I objected now and again, but I gave up rather easily with little pushback.
“So, what do you think of people like me?”
“People like you, Miss Mia?”
“Wives of people with real wealth, who drive around and use their partners’ money?”
“I’ve been doing this long enough to stop judging people for spending money. It’s more about how they spend it.”
“What do you mean?”
He went quiet for a moment, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. I wondered whether he was deciding how much he could tell me without getting himself into trouble.
“So, there was this one woman I used to drive frequently. She had a dog that I would also drive around a lot, independently of her. There was a doggy spa that this tiny dog went to once a week, and trainers twice a week. The lady herself came along perhaps one in ten times.”
“She really liked her dog, I guess.”
“Yeah, and one time I came to pick up the dog, her maid was having some issues and needed to go to the hospital. I offered to take her, but was told that the dog’s appointment was more important, and that the maid was waiting for an Uber.”
“Fuck… that is not cool, lady.”
“I agree with that sentiment, but then you have the other side. I had a client who would have me pick up escorts and take them to hotels. I would frequently drive him home to his wife, so I knew what was going on.”
I nodded. I knew as well.
“But then he would also have me drive them home afterward. He would usually request that I pick up food so they could eat on their way back as well. He’d even give me their dietary requirements.”
“I don’t know if that excuses the behavior.”
“It matters, because I know others who are only involved in the delivery part of that situation.”
I didn’t reply. I was caught between sex work is work and the moral arguments against prostitution, and I wasn’t entirely sure what Thomas was arguing for.
“I stopped judging people by whether their actions fit social norms a long time ago. I judge them by how they treat the people involved.”
“And how do we treat people?”
“After I dropped you and Miss Leah off following your Halloween party, I was instructed to go back and pick up Miss Park and her colleagues.”
“Rina?”
“Yes, I believe that was her first name. They came out late and appreciated the food Miss Leah had asked me to pick up for them beforehand.”
“I didn’t know Leah did that.”
“I spoke more with Miss Park when I drove her to the airport two days later. She explained how Miss Leah had hired her, housed her, fed her, and paid her far above the usual rate for the work she did.”
“Rina is too kind.”
“From what she told me, she was treated better than she usually is while working.”
I didn’t argue with that. I knew Rina well enough, but I didn’t know how she was usually treated when she worked.
“So I’m not one of the terrible rich people?”
“I wouldn’t know, Miss Mia. I’ve only been driving you for a few weeks.”
“Ouch.”
He laughed at that.
“You did ask me if I was troubled by your changed pickup time from the spa. That’s a point in your favor. But Miss Leah gets points for arranging that change well in advance.”
“Wait, you’re actually giving us points?”
“Only when you ask for an evaluation, Miss Mia.”
“And who’s winning?”
“I’m afraid that information is confidential.”
We arrived at the Navy Yard around one o’clock. I called the number on the business card while standing outside the car, and a woman opened the shop door and waved me over.
She escorted me inside while Thomas remained by the car. The place was covered in vintage posters. Baseball posters, movie posters, and concert posters.
“You’re here for the NIN poster, right?” she asked.
“Yes. Pickup for Leah Takahashi?”
“Cool. We repaired a few tears, flattened some creases, and cleaned up a little discoloration.”
She pulled out the framed poster from behind the desk.
Apart from the signatures, it looked fresh off the printing press.
“Impressive,” I said.
“We try our best. Now, if you approve, I can wrap it for transport?”
“Go for it. Looks great.”
I looked around the store a bit more while the woman wrapped the frame. I wondered if Leah would like something like this, but then realized probably not. She wasn’t particularly nostalgic.
What was Leah? Obsessive? Loving? Cute? What did she like? Anime and cosplay?
I needed to figure out what to get Leah for Christmas, and it needed to be better than this perfect gift she’d gotten for Dan.
I snapped back into reality when I was handed the wrapped frame. I took it outside, and Thomas helped me get into the back of the car.
“Are we heading back home?”
“No, Leah wants me to pick up lunch.”
I texted Leah to let her know I’d picked up the poster.
Mia: Got it! Looks amazing. Where am I getting lunch?
Leah: Nom Wah Tea Parlor. 13 Doyers Street, Chinatown.
Leah: Pickup number 184. Already paid for.
Mia: What did you order?
Leah: Dim sum.
Mia: Did you get me da bao?
Leah: No, but I ordered four cha siu bao, and you can have one of mine if you’re still hungry.
Mia: You da best.
I knew Leah hated puns, and that made them so much more gratifying.
When I picked up the order, I saw there was more than just bao. She’d gotten me some har gow, taro dumplings, fun guo, and spring rolls. I didn’t think I’d need that extra bao from Leah.
Thomas helped me carry everything upstairs. I desperately wanted to tip him, but restrained myself, knowing that wasn’t something you did with this kind of car service.
Leah and I spent the afternoon eating dim sum on the couch and watching Mars Express, a French animated movie Leah had wanted to see. I’d been slightly hesitant, but by the time it ended, I was glad she’d pushed for it.
“You want to stream a bit?” Leah asked.
“Kinda?”
I’d started playing Monster Prom. It was much more Dream Daddy than Life is Strange, but it was funny, and mossybyte had a lot of opinions about my choices.
I started up my computer, opened Twitch, and stopped.
Something had happened.
Five thousand one hundred and twelve followers.
I stared at the number.
Yesterday it had been five.
“Leah?” I screamed.
She came into the computer room.
“Mm?”
“I think something broke.”
She leaned over the back of my chair.
My activity feed was just names. Followed. Followed. Followed. Followed. A few people had clipped things. Someone had apparently watched my old stream enough to leave comments everywhere.
“What did you do?” Leah asked.
“There were five of them yesterday.”
“Did you have a wardrobe malfunction?”
“No! Or… I don’t think so?”
Leah stared at the screen for another second.
“Well. Something happened. Maybe check the comments before you go live?”
I started going through them. There were a lot, most of them completely useless. Memes, people arguing with each other, comments that made no sense without context. Nothing that explained why five people had apparently become five thousand.
One thing did stand out, though.
One of my VODs had a stupid number of views.
It was one of my Dream Daddy streams.
From over a month ago.
I clicked it open and saw several clips had been made from the same thirty seconds:
“SHE SAID WHAT???” — 48.4K views
“PocketKatastrophe choosing the BEST option possible!” — 14.2K views
“Vesper’s girlfriend is insane” — 12.8K views
I clicked the most-viewed one.
It was the part where Leah came in, kissed me on the head, said, “Dinner is ready when you wrap up here,” and left.
I called Leah over and showed her.
She watched it once.
“So, that’s it?”
“Yeah. I think I know what happened.”
“You informed me dinner was ready.”
“That I did.”
“Forty-eight thousand people watched me be informed about dinner.”
Leah looked at the title again.
“I think the dinner may not be the important part.”
Leah went back to her laptop.
“Let me investigate a bit. I think this might be on me, and it’s spilled over onto you.”
“Okay, so I can just play?”
“Sure.”
I booted up Monster Prom and started the stream.
For the first few seconds, nothing happened.
mossybyte appeared in chat.
mossybyte: OH SHIT YOU’RE LIVE
“Hi, Mossy.”
The viewer counter went from one to eight.
Then twenty-three.
“Uh.”
Someone followed.
Then another.
Then the chat started moving.
hexwife: VESPER GIRLFRIEND
dadbodenthusiast: SHE’S REAL
mossybyte: EVERYONE GET OUT THIS IS MY HOUSE
vesperfan92: IS VV THERE
cryptidfuckr: omg pocketkatastrophe
The viewer count hit sixty-four.
“I think it’s happening again.”
Ninety-seven.
A hundred and thirty-two.
I had not even reached the title screen.
“Yeah, I think I found out what happened,” I heard Leah say from the other side of the room.
I looked over at her.
“Well? Care to explain?”
mossybyte: Don’t ruin this for me! I was here first!
“Tell them you’ll be right back. Shut off OBS and come over here.”
Vesperfan92: You talking to Vesper?!
mossybyte: Shut up, you’re gonna make her stop streaming.
“Hey, guys. I’ll be right back. Technical difficulties.”
I stopped the stream and went over to Leah.
Her laptop was connected to the dock, and Reddit was open on one of her screens.
The post at the top was titled:
Vesper Velvet randomly shows up in tiny Twitch streamer’s VOD
I read the body text:
Was watching this random Dream Daddy streamer and Vesper just walks in, kisses her on the head and tells her dinner is ready??? Streamer says she’s her girlfriend.
There were over a thousand replies. Leah had already found the interesting ones.
Some guy had done a full breakdown proving that the four seconds of Leah were definitely not Vesper Velvet.
He’d compared screenshots from the VOD against cosplay photos, drawn lines over her face, and explained that her jawline, hairline, nose, and brow were all wrong.
Then other people had pointed out that the cosplay photos he’d used didn’t even match each other properly.
Different lenses. Different makeup. Different expressions. Different angles.
One person had reposted his comparison with another set of lines showing how much all of those things changed the exact measurements he was treating like fingerprints.
“Apparently, there’s a rather large debate about whether I’m me, and whether you’re my girlfriend. Everyone following you is now trying to figure out if it’s true.”
“Did I fuck up?”
“I don’t see how. I guess the big question is now what we’re gonna do about it?”
Leah didn’t look at me when she said this, but stared at a spot above and behind me. Her thinking face.
The gears were turning at full speed, and I leaned back in my chair, waiting for the process to end.
“Want to lean into it?”
“What do you mean?”
“We can tease them a bit more, keep it going for a while before doing a reveal. Or we can just reveal everything now and see who sticks around afterward.”
“You want that? You spent so much time keeping your VV profile separate from your personal life. I don’t want to destroy that for more Twitch cred.”
“My life as a cosplayer is coming to an end. Not that I won’t dress up and stuff, but VV is now a large company I run for others, not my personal LLC for tax and copyright purposes. I’m a CEO and Managing Director, not primarily a cosplayer. My face is already on TEG’s website. The connection between VV and Leah is going to be made sooner rather than later. We could make an event out of it, if you want?”
“And what if I don’t want an event out of it?”
“You could go on stream, have a quick chat about how, yes, Velvet is your girlfriend, and no, she’s not going to be a feature of your streams. Then just keep playing.”
“And that will make people go away?”
“No. You’ll still have a bump in followers, and you’re going to have to deal with that somehow. I’m not sure they’ll leave in droves just because you confirm our relationship.”
“And what should I do to ‘handle it’?”
“No idea. I’ve never used Twitch. You should ask Rina.”
“Can you give me Rina’s number?”
“Number?”
Leah pulled up Discord on her screen and sent a message to BossSize.
VesperVelvet: You up for a call?
BossSize: What’s up, boss?
Leah started a video call, and within a few seconds, Rina’s face appeared on the screen.
She was wearing a big, chunky headset, her hair tied back in a ponytail, with no makeup and a tank top.
“Emergency?” Rina asked.
“Mia has accidentally gone viral on Twitch. Need guidance on how to handle it.”
“Oh, what happened?”
“They spotted Leah for, like, three seconds,” I said.
“Yeah, that’ll do it.”
Rina leaned back in her chair.
“Okay, what’s the damage? How many followers?”
“Five thousand one hundred and twelve,” I said.
“Fuck me. How many did you have before?”
“Five.”
Rina laughed.
“Jesus. Okay. Congratulations, I guess. How many viewers did you get?”
“A hundred and thirty-something. I only streamed for a minute before Leah made me shut it down.”
“Good call. How was chat?”
“Moving pretty fast. People asking about Leah, people screaming, and mossybyte telling everyone to fuck off.”
“Who’s mossybyte?”
“One of my regulars. Well, my regular. They’ve been watching me play games for weeks.”
“Good. Anyone else?”
“A few. I had five followers yesterday.”
“Right. Do you have any moderators?”
“No?”
“AutoMod?”
“What’s that?”
Rina took a deep breath.
“Okay, we’ve got a lot to do. I see your PC back there. I installed Discord when I built it. Have you made an account?”
“Nope.”
“Cool, cool. Okay, go over to your PC and make a new Google account. PocketKatastrophe at Gmail.”
I rolled my chair over to my computer and started creating a new Google account.
Leah and Rina continued talking while I did.
“So, how did you figure this out?” Rina asked.
“Found the Reddit source.”
“Link?”
Rina went quiet for a moment while she read the post.
“Yeah, that went down about as well as you can expect. Did anyone provide any actual proof?”
“Yeah, there’s one with a picture of Mia at Comic-Con, from the Street Fighter cosplay shots. They’ve got one of me from my Patreon in the Chun-Li costume, and a shot of Mia talking to me, but you only see my back. It was fairly well documented, but it arrived late, so it’s got, like, two upvotes.”
“It’s never important who’s right, just who’s first.”
I finished setting up my new Google account, opened Discord, and signed in with Google.
After verifying my account, I was online.
I sent Leah a friend request, and she added me to her ongoing video call with Rina.
Leah muted her microphone, turned off her camera, and rolled her chair over beside me.
“Okay, let’s share your screen,” Rina said.
I clicked Share Screen in Discord and selected my Twitch dashboard.
We started going through a lot of settings I’d never bothered with. Rina had me turn on AutoMod, configure chat verification, block links, and add a few blocked terms and phrases.
Then we set up Slow Mode to keep people from spamming the chat, and Follower-Only Mode so random accounts couldn’t immediately flood it with messages.
Rina showed me how to switch to Subscriber-Only Mode if things got completely out of hand, and how to activate Shield Mode if someone decided to send an army of assholes my way.
We also went through my account security, enabled two-factor authentication, and changed my contact email to the new PocketKatastrophe address.
Then we moved over to Monetization. Apparently, I could set up paid subscriptions, Bits, and all sorts of other things people could spend money on. Rina walked me through the onboarding process, although some of the payment and tax stuff would need a bit more attention.
I was starting to understand why people treated streaming like a job.
“Okay, now you need moderators,” Rina said.
“Can’t AutoMod do that?”
“AutoMod catches messages. It doesn’t ban idiots. You need actual people for that.”
“mossybyte?”
“If they want to. Ask them first. And find at least one more person you trust.”
She also suggested giving my original five followers gift subscriptions once I had everything set up.
“They were here before the circus arrived. Might as well give them something for sticking around.”
That I liked.
I sent mossybyte a Whisper.
PocketKatastrophe: Hey Mossy! So apparently my stream exploded. A friend is helping me figure things out, and she suggested getting moderators. Would you be interested? No pressure.
mossybyte: You have friends who are not me? I am hurt.
PocketKatastrophe: Yeah, yeah, cry me a river. Want a free sub and the power to ban?
mossybyte: You want me to be a mod on your stream?
PocketKatastrophe: Too much power? I get that. I can ask someone else.
mossybyte: Nooooooooooo, I’ll do it! Please, please, please!
I gifted Mossy a sub, and promoted them to Lead Moderator.
mossybyte: UNLIMITED POWER!!!
“Okay, what’s next?” I looked back at Rina.
“Mossy seems nice. A bit random, though.”
“Yeah, they are, but they’re consistent, and I think they’re into modding.”
“Excellent. Now let’s make sure nobody steals your identity.”
“What?”
“PocketKatastrophe. We need to own that name everywhere. YouTube, Instagram, TikTok, Bluesky, Facebook, Kick. Maybe X if you can stomach it.”
“I’m not going to use all those.”
“Doesn’t matter. Someone else will. They’ll download your VODs, upload clips, and pretend to be you.”
“People actually do that?”
“All the fucking time. Especially when someone goes viral.”
I looked at the list.
“This is starting to sound suspiciously like work.”
“Welcome to the creator economy, sweetheart.”
Leah laughed beside me.
“Don’t encourage her,” I said.
“Okay,” Rina continued. “Same username everywhere if possible. Use your new Gmail, turn on two-factor authentication, and make sure you save your recovery codes.”
“Right.”
“And don’t start posting anything yet. We’re just making sure you own the names.”
I opened YouTube.
“Jesus. How many accounts am I making today?”
“Around ten. We can set up a Linktree afterward to get you organized, but that’s for later.”
About half an hour later, all the accounts were created and linked to my new Google account.
“Right,” Rina said. “Now, what are we doing about the Vesper situation?”
I looked at Leah.
“I think I will have some fun with it.”
Leah smiled.
“Oh?”
“I’ll just pretend I have no idea what they’re talking about.”
Rina laughed.
“You’re going to gaslight five thousand people?”
“I’m going to play Monster Prom. What they believe is their problem.”
“Fair enough. Just don’t let it take over the whole stream.”
“That’s what Mossy’s for.”
I opened Twitch and sent my new moderator a Whisper.
PocketKatastrophe: Going live in a minute. New rule. Anyone asking about Vesper Velvet gets a timeout. We’re pretending we don’t know who that is.
mossybyte: OH MY GOD
mossybyte: I LOVE THIS JOB
I started OBS, opened Monster Prom, and went live.
The chat started moving almost immediately.
vesperfan92: IS VESPER THERE
hexwife: omg she’s back
dadbodenthusiast: where’s your gf
“Hi, everyone! Welcome back. We’re playing Monster Prom today.”
cryptidfuckr: WAIT ARE YOU ACTUALLY DATING VV
“I keep seeing this Vesper person mentioned. Are you guys on the wrong stream?”
vesperfan92: SHE LITERALLY KISSED YOU
“Mod? Could we please deal with these people talking about some other streamer? Very confusing.”
mossybyte: FIRST WARNING. NO VESPER DISCUSSION.
hexwife: LMAOOOO
vesperfan92: YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS
mossybyte: vesperfan92 has been timed out for 60 seconds.
I burst out laughing.
“Thank you, Mossy. Finally, some professionalism around here.”
mossybyte: I LIVE TO SERVE
From beside me, Leah started laughing.
I glanced at her.
“You’re not helping.”
cryptidfuckr: WHO WAS THAT
“Nobody. Anyway, which one of these monsters should I try to fuck?”
Leah remained out of camera view for the night. She watched me from her desk, sometimes checking her phone and smiling at my performance.
We’d started a dance with the community, where certain words and questions earned you a timeout, and people started finding creative ways around the rules.
“Are you single?” “Are you married?” “Have you ever cosplayed?”
All allowed questions. But “Who’s your girlfriend?” earned you a timeout.
“Who’s your partner?” depended on what you’d asked before. Mossy made the call based on previous questions and timeouts.
This continued for a while before I saw a new subscription notification.
BossSize subscribed to your channel.
“Oh snap, we got a badass over here,” I announced.
“Mossy, grant BossSize a VIP badge, please.”
mossybyte: Who is BossSize?
The chat exploded.
vesperfan92: NO FUCKING WAY
hexwife: BOSS SIZE TOO???
cryptidfuckr: WHAT IS THIS STREAM
BossSize: Oh, I just saw this stream recommended. I like dating games.
“See? Finally, someone here for the actual content.”
BossSize: Absolutely. Nothing unusual going on here.
mossybyte: WHY DOES EVERYONE KNOW WHO YOU ARE
“Mossy, please stop harassing our new VIP.”
mossybyte: I HAVEN’T EVEN GIVEN HER VIP YET
“Well, get on with it. We have monsters to fuck.”
BossSize: Oh, you haven’t picked a romance yet? Who are you going for, Damien? Or are you more of a Scott?
“I was aiming for Miranda or Vera.”
BossSize: I can see you with Vera. That tracks.
vesperfan92: You know PocketKatastrophe?
BossSize: Never met her. Told you, random Twitch suggestion.
vesperfan92: But you know VV.
mossybyte: vesperfan92 has been timed out for 300 seconds.
mossybyte: Rules still apply, guys.
This went on throughout the evening. Around ten, Tessa, aka CriticalTits, joined the fray. She’d clearly been briefed by Rina beforehand. Chat freaked out again, but Tessa played innocent, claiming she’d heard someone was picking the wrong love interest in Monster Prom and had been summoned to correct them.
Half an hour later, Nadia, aka HexKitten, joined with the same playbook, claiming she’d heard someone was pushing for a non-gay love interest in Monster Prom and had been summoned to intervene.
With each arrival, the audience grew, and Mossy had to stay on her toes as chat became increasingly outraged that Vesper Velvet still hadn’t appeared.
Around midnight, Leah walked past my camera, patted me on the head, and said goodnight.
I looked at her as she left the room and said, “Love you, I’ll be there soon.”
Her face stayed just outside the frame, so viewers only saw her body pass by and a hand reach down to pat me on the head.
cryptidfuckr: AWW, COME ON! Just show us already!
“Show you what?”
cryptidfuckr: Just show us Velvet!
mossybyte: Cryptidfuckr has been timed out for 300 seconds.
mossybyte: It’s like you guys don’t understand the rules.
BossSize: I didn’t see anything.
CriticalTits: Nope, nothing. Ghost, maybe?
HexKitten: Yeah, her place is haunted. Only explanation.
I checked the time and saw it was closing in on 1 AM.
“Oh snap, it’s getting late. I’ve got work in the morning.”
I wrapped up the stream, sent Mossy a thank-you for all her hard work, and asked if she could check with any of the other early members to see if they wanted to join her as moderators.
I checked my follower count. I was now up to six thousand. I refreshed and saw a few more.
I smiled, turned off my computer, and went for a quick shower before bed.
When I got out, I saw I’d received a text.
From Lin.
Lin: Can we talk?
Me: Of course.
Incoming call from Lin