Video Love (The Poofless Epic)

Chapter 11

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Trigger Warning: This chapter may be offensive or triggering for some people. If you don't think you can handle it, I encourage you to click away. Please see the story description for an updated list of warnings.

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October 3, 2011 at 7 PM, Fort Worth, TX: Preston

I toss the last paper plate in the trash and shut the fridge door on my way out of the kitchen. Who knew it'd take so long to clean up after freaking pizza? I feel bad for making Rob wait but I'm also really glad it's just Rob and not someone who'd get really ticked off at me for being a couple minutes late. Rob never gets mad about anything, which's great and scary at the same time. I've known the guy for almost a year now and I've seen him get frustrated and sad and salty, but I don't think he's ever been actually angry. Maybe that's a good thing because an angry derp face would be really confusing to try to figure out. I bet he's one of those people who just smiles when they're angry and you can't really tell that you ticked 'em off until they show up at your window with a Molotov cocktail and grin at you from the front yard while you're screaming for help.

This is where I start scaring myself. Like, how do I even come up with this stuff? Dad used to say if I got stuck on a deserted island I'd be perfectly fine for years until someone found me because I'm just crazy enough I wouldn't go completely batflip insane. No, Rob seems more like a dagger kinda guy - he'd knock on the door and pretend to give you a hug, then he'd just stick it in the back of your skull and the last thing you'd see is his evil crooked smile. Or, even more likely than that, he'd just be too nice to try to kill me and he'd just sit there and give me those big ol' sad eyes on Skype until the Bacca showed up at the door and bashed my head in with his precious Betty and they'd sit there and laugh about it together while I bled to death. Okay, I think this's gone far enough. Gettin' creepy now. If this is how I'm thinking now, maybe I shouldn't've bought those energy drinks for the gaming marathon. I finish wiping down the dining room table and I shut the light off and get ready to go upstairs to start a killer weekend of recording and new release hype when I walk right into a starchy blue wall.

"Where're you going in such a hurry? Are you makin' a break for it before someone sees you fingering Keeley's birthday cake?" Daka snickers as he brushes raindrops off his precious origami hat and hangs it up on the coat tree. I can hear Dad putting his keys down on the table in the front hall and I can't afford to make a scene with Dak. The last thing I need is for him to get me grounded a couple weeks before a convention I already booked a flight and bought tickets for.

"Pizza's in the fridge in the foil. Could you please move?"

"Depends. Where're you headed?"

"Upstairs. Like always."

"What're you gonna do up there? Strip for your boyfriend? I don't think even he wants to see that, bro." He pretends to look me up and down and he stops his eyes on my stomach. I keep myself from squirming so he doesn't get the satisfaction of knowing his words hurt. I already lost thirty pounds but I still have a ways left to go, and Daka takes every chance he gets to remind me I'm still fatter than him. He's just jealous my job's a thousand times better than his'll ever be so he tries to make me feel like crap all the time. And it usually works. "You might hafta pay him to watch you this time."

"I don't wanna hear what you do when you're deployed, Dak. TMI, dude."

"Naw, I'm not into kinky shit like you, Pressy. I don't spend every waking second making videos for RedTube like you." He'd be hilarious if it wasn't all directed right at me. I just stand there and stare at him, hoping he'll give up and let me go if he doesn't get a reaction out of me. "So how does that work? Do you just suck on the camera to get him going until you see him at conventions? Or does he send you a sample in the mail and you rub it all over your tig ol' bitties for him?"