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He did it.
He fucking did.
After so much research, confidence and preparation.
He did it.
This was the day he dreamed of ever since he started his very own channel.
Currently he was in his room on a call with his three friends—Nick, George and Darryl. All three were waiting for his "big" and "important" announcement he was going to make on a rainy day in Florida.
He quickly signed into YouTube, clicking the search tab and waited for his friends to say something—all silent until he heard Darryl's dog, Rat, stomping on the keyboard with a lot of protests from their owner.
"What is this about Clay?" asked the brunette; George—leaned against his gaming chair with ease and no frustration nor irritation heard in his tone.
Nick, the dark-haired rolled his eyes. As if he knew what this was about, his dark eyes nictate to his screen, the faces of his friends appearable and clear bouncing on his glassy pupils. The light glow humming on his face from the brightness of the computer screen in his dark room.
"It's about him blabbering about how thankful that we are with him I'm guessing," he said, rolling his hands together and rubbing them in his eyes from tiredness. "Really Dream?" chuckled Darryl, his glasses reflecting their faces. "It's the fifth time—" "Tenth actually," corrected George. "Yeah, tenth or whatever." The dirty-blonde haired only tilted his head, "You guys didn't even let me speak..." Nick snorted, "Oh sorry your majesty! Would you like us to get you a throne and your very own courtroom?" "Would you like your vices to come and fix your problems with the YouTube algorithm?" snickered the brunette.
The blonde shook his head, laughing as he did so.
"Sorry, it's not that," he grinned, the edges of his lips up with glee.
The trio curiously stared at their friend, waiting for him to continue speaking.
"I'm glad to say we are going to have a new member of the Dream Team!"
Their eyes widened, all with different expressions.
George only smiled, but not entirely, but his eyes held with welcome and exhilaration.
Nick's curious facial expression twisted to confusion.
Darryl let out animated and gibberish noises nobody could understand or comprehend.
"What do you mean 'going'? What's up with the future tense?" asked Nick. "Also, who are they?" "Someone I met," said Clay, but muttered softly, "Someone I met three years ago..." "What did you say?" "Ah, it's nothing, but I'm not entirely sure if they are going to collaborate with us," he hummed, quickly typing the name of the channel.
