After I’ve transferred over twenty hours of footage, I open my editing software and add clips to my timeline. It’s almost hard for me to watch these videos, seeing how happy and careless I was. I love vlogging and always have my camera with me everywhere I go. Between that and my phone, I can capture nearly my entire day. While I don’t show every little detail, I give my viewers enough to make them want more.
“Shit,” I say, opening my planner and realizing I need to post a sponsored video on Thursday.
“What?” Tristan asks.
I shake my head. “I didn’t schedule my sponsored posts. Fuck.” I place my face in my hands, trying not to get upset. I’m pissed at myself for procrastinating instead of getting ahead like I promised I would. It was hard to stay on schedule with pre-wedding celebrations and everything else, but I’ve never missed posting, especially when I’m being paid.
“It'll be okay.”
“No, it won’t. You don’t understand.” I groan.
“Maybe I do?”
I shake my head, with emotions ready to bubble over. “That video was supposed to go up tomorrow for this designer perfume company. Now, it’ll seem like I didn’t follow through and will be put in the same bucket as those content creators who use and abuse brands.”
“Piper…” Tristan says in a growl of a tone that has goose bumps trailing over my body. “You could’ve died the night of your sister’s wedding. You realize that, don’t you?”
I meet his eyes.
“If Jack would’ve had a weapon or somehow managed to drag you away, you might not be here right now. In the grand scheme of things, do you really think that perfume is that important?” His words linger for a few moments.
“Compared to my life? No.”
“So just explain what happened when things calm down. I’m sure they’ll understand that you were in a very dangerous and vulnerable situation.”
“And what if they don’t?” A few tears roll down my cheeks.
“Then fuck ’em. I’m sure they need you more than you need them anyway. You don’t want to work with selfish companies who don’t care about your well-being.”
My face cracks into a smile, and I laugh, something I needed more than he’ll ever know.
“You want me to make you a sandwich?” he asks, noticing the banana I haven’t touched.
“Not really.”
He closes his book and goes to the pantry. His guns are attached to his body, just as he promised they would be. “You have to eat something.”
Tristan opens the pantry and pulls out a box of mac ’n’ cheese. Once he’s done cooking, he sets a bowl in front of me with a fork and napkin.
“This is a lot of cheese.”
He shrugs. “You’re the one who said you still eat dairy.”
Tristan adds a few pieces to the puzzle before going to the couch. As soon as he’s out of sight, I take a bite, and it’s so damn delicious, I have another. Soon, the bowl is empty, and I’m tempted to lick the cheese sauce from the bottom but refrain.
When I’m done, I busy myself with my work and start cutting and placing clips together so they’ll flow better. After I’ve gotten one of my days down to a good length, I open my commercial music folder and find something that fits the different moods.
I love planning my days before they happen and having an underlying story and theme. In this vlog, I went shopping for new face wash and summer sandals. Halfway through, I realized I didn’t have my credit card, but luckily, I was able to use Apple Pay. It was a clever way to sneak in a sponsored shoutout since they send me all the new electronics before they release to the public. It comes off dramatic in the video, but it’s because I set up the scene. My audience loves it when things like this happen, and I get so much joy when I read the comments. Most of them are cheering me on.
As I continue scanning through the footage at the mall, I think I see a familiar face in the background.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, covering a hand over my mouth.
Tristan stands and comes over as I study the video.
“Is that Jack in the food court watching me?”
“Fuck, I think it is him,” he confirms, and I go into a panic.
I look up at Tristan. “He’s been following me around since last week then.”
“What day was this recorded?” Tristan asks as I find the timestamp. “It was Thursday around one.”
“Bastard,” he mutters. “Do you have other videos from that day?”
Tristan pulls a chair beside me, and we go through every frame of when I’m in public.
“Right there,” he says, and I press the spacebar to stop it. “Can you zoom in?”
I make the window bigger.
“I think that’s him on the street wearing a hat. Go forward some,” he tells me.