“I don’t think so. Not this time, and probably not ever.”Definitelynot ever. That’s a line I refuse to cross, thank you very much. “Sorry!” I say it like I mean it, because I sort of do. I hate refusing, when saying yes would probably get me more money today and in the long run. But it’s still a hard no from me.
“Also, that’s unfortunately the end of my stream.” It’s Sunday, meaning that Juniper could be back in thirty minutes or four hours. But I don’t want to take the chance of it being thirty minutes just to try to make a little more money. “I’ll be back on Friday, though. So I hope to see all of you then, too.” I give them my sweetest, fakest smile I can muster and wave, then turn off the stream and sit back in my chair.
This time, I’ve made closer to one-eighty. I’m just under it, in fact, and I can’t really scoff at that. Though, I’d love to be making thousands, or millions. I’d accept thousands.Oliverhas made over a thousand. I saw that on his stream when I first watched. To me, that’s insane.
That’s real, adult money and I wouldn’t have to worry about anything ever again. But I shouldn’t be ungrateful for what I’ve gotten.
Even though it’s starting to feel like I’m exactly that.
Without putting my bra back on, I grab my red tee off of the desk and pull it on, glad that it’s oversized so I can wear it and not feel like I’m in a straight jacket meant to smother me. Before I can push away from my desk properly, however, the smalldingof a private message catches my attention.
I pause, looking back with a frown, and see that the messenger tab of the camsite is lit up.
God, it’s probably someone bitching about me not taking off my mask.
When I click to my inbox, however, I notice that it’s not. Instead, the message is from one of my first fans. My lips twist into a tiny grin as I take my laptop over to my bed, not wanting to sit in my desk chair any longer while I read it.Thrillingterrorhas messaged me again, and even though he’s someone without a profile picture and instead sports just the black box in place of an avatar, I don’t really mind.
Though, the curiosity in me would love to know what he looks like.
I’m sorry I missed the first part of your show. His message is short and sweet, and I don’t really understand why he’s apologizing. Besides, he still tipped me quite a bit today.
That’s absolutely fine,I reply, cringing when I sound more likeBlair,the college student thanMaskEnvy,the confident streamer. Not that I think I’m fooling anyone into thinking I’m confident in any capacity. Even on-stream, I’ve quickly realized that’s just not my thing. I might be cute and shy while my fans offer ‘suggestions,’ but I don’t think I’ll ever be like Oliver.
Then again, Oliver isperfectwhen he streams. There’s no way I even could be like him.
Is it? Did anyone say anything to you about doing things you aren’t ready for, Envy?The way he uses part of my username like a pet name makes me shiver, and I bite my lip.
No,I say simply, then add.But I appreciated you standing up for me last week. And that you came back.
Another message goes off, this one fromrob784.
Fuck Rob. I care a lot more aboutThrillingterrorthan I ever could aboutRob.
Don’t mention it, love.
This time I nearly choke on air. He has no way of knowing that he’s using my last name, but god does it feel good, anyway. A shot of arousal courses down my spine, heading straight to my center when I read the message again.
Sorry, was I too forward? The message comes through when all I can do is stare, and I shake my head even though I know he can’t see.
No, no you’re fine, I type back finally, leaning back against my headboard with my knees propped up so I can rest my laptop against my thighs.I just wasn’t expecting it.Because it’s my fucking name and all.
You didn’t reply, so I figured you were either horrified, or you liked it. I wish I could hear him. Well, sort of. On the one hand, I want to hear his tone of voice in these messages instead of just reading them.
On the other, if I could hear him and he could hear me, he’d realize just how much of an act I put on when I stream. I should probably laugh this off and just tell him a polite thank you. I don’t know anything about him, except that he gives me money and has probably provided about half of my income so far.
But instead, I find myself typing out the wordsI liked it,and hitting send before I can stop myself.
Are you busy? I missed part of your stream, but I’d love to talk to you for a little bit if you’d want to. The words give me pause. Talk tome?
Why? I ask simply, not willing to give him an answer just yet.
Because you’re interesting. Do I need a better reason?
That barely feels like a reason at all. Everyone is interesting. There are a thousand other interesting girls streaming right now. I don’t know why I say it. Self deprecation isn’t a good color on me, but I can’t help but say it, anyway. As if he somehow doesn’t know I’m not the only girl streaming at this very moment. And I’m certainly nowhere near the most interesting.
That’s subjectively not true,he replies, like he’s correcting me.I think you’re interesting, not them. Why don’t you think you’re interesting, love?Again, I feel a tingle travel down my spine when he says it. And I wonder if I’d feel the same if it wasn’t my name.
But I won’t take my mask off. I’ve only really talked and tried to go slow. I haven’t shown you everything, even. There are other girls who do way more than me.