after deciding to stay, it became apparent that i didn't have enough clothes for more than three days. i didn't really care, but alex offered to take me shopping. again, feeling terrible for saying yes, i told him i'd pay him back with the money i made from art commissions. it still would take a while, but i could do it.
neither of us wanted to go out, so we just went online. the two of us made fun of the awful designs on some of the sites, laughing at how obviously uncomfortable they were.
one of the dresses was so bad, alex was absolutely dead on the floor. i took a video of it and sent it to karl on his phone. karl ended up facetiming alex, and started laughing, even though he didn't know what was going on.
"karl, alex has been like this for more than a few minutes. please help." i turn the camera so it's facing him.
"wha-what happened? actually, don't answer that. WE HAVE A SITUATION!" karl shouts.
after a few more moments of laughter, he finds his composure. "yes?"
"so, i ran a poll of who fans would like to see for our jackbox tonight, and reyna, you won." he says.
"what." my face drops. "why was i even on the poll?"
"i don't know, they really like you!" i can see karl stick his hands up in defense. "you even beat corpse with votes."
"holy shit." i look at alex for confirmation.
"you're fucking famous." he yells. "you need to get a twitter, and then you can start streaming!"
"no, no and absolutely fucking not."
"why not?" karl pouts.
"because i'm going to get canceled the second i open my mouth." that part was true. i tend to joke about my trauma, and people would definitely take it the wrong way or even worse, get triggered.
"do you want to?" alex asks me in a slightly softer tone.
i go to shout 'no', but i stop before i can say anything. because i did want to. i saw how content and happy alex was when he was streaming. i saw how many good things happened because of streamers.
but most importantly, it looked like a ton of fucking fun. i could literally get paid to talk to my friends for a few hours.
"yeah. i do." my voice is quiet, but it's like a wrecking ball through a brick wall.
"what's stopping you?" karl asks. i almost forgot he was here.
"cancel culture." i say simply.
"oh fuck that. one of my friends got 'canceled' like six times. as long as you don't really really fuck up you're fine." alex says while waving his hands around.
