Amateur - A Jon Cozart fic

Chapter 14 - Salties

*Carm's P.O.V.*

I'm like a Pokemon trainer. I'm catching all the feelings. Here I am, spinning around in a giant teacup, with Jon's arm - or should I say, my boyfriend's arm - around me, and somehow I'm happier and more at peace than I've been for a long while. I'm smiling like an idiot, and there's nothing I need to say. No words are required here, for now, at least. The ride stops, and I'm relatively dizzy. I never did well with spinning around repeatedly. Had to do it in a routine for Rent. Nearly vomited every time. Wow, Carm. Five minutes into this relationship and you're already thinking about vomit. Congratulations to you. Well, I mean, he doesn't make me feel like vomiting. Spinning around does. 

You know how when authors write a book and they compare people's eyes to like, crystals, and the blue of the ocean upon a sunset that happens on the fourth of July at just the right temperature on One Specific MomentTM, and how they compare people's hair to waterfalls flowing down past their neck and shoulders? Nope, that's not what I'm thinking of here. That trope is bullshit. Jon's eyes are blue, yes. But I can't compare them to crystals, or some ocean in an exotic location that cost millions of dollars to fly to. Jon's eyes are blue. They're the bluest eyes I've ever seen, or, maybe they're just the only blue eyes I've truly paid attention to. But this kind of blue can't be compared. It's just so... blue. But, you know, it's the most beautiful blue I've ever seen.

*Jon's P.O.V.*

How does she look this good so effortlessly? Right now, we're driving back from Disney, the sun is setting, and going down the road, she's smiling, laughing, and the light is hitting her face in the most perfect way. She's not even trying. She was, at first, at the start of the date, but now this is just her. I think she's grown to be more comfortable around me, and I can't believe it's barely been a day.

Back at her apartment, we laugh, tell some jokes. In the middle of her sentence, she stops suddenly, and she looks as though she's forgotten something.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I forgot, I need a video up tonight. I've got nothing prepared, I uploaded my last backup video when I was packing with Elise." She stands up, and puts her hand into her hair, making a fist. Damn, she looks stressed.

"Oh god, Carm, it's okay. Your viewers will understand, they know you've just moved across the world. You see, this is why I don't stick to a schedule."

"It's also probably why you only get videos out five times a year."

"Fair point. Okay, what can we do?" She pauses and looks at me.

"You'd help me?" she asks, genuine curiosity in her eyes.

"Of course. This whole thing -  here - me and you - might be new and kind of scary, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to help you when you get stressed out."

"Oh, thank you." she says, whilst walking over to me, and before I know it, she's hugging me. I pause for a second. Huh. First hug. She always appears to be the first to do things. I like that. She looks up at me and asks:

"Any ideas at all? I'm blanking. Nothing's coming to mind"

"Next to none. What do you normally do on your channel?"

"Ah, like, I sing a lot, I talk about theatre a bunch. Sometimes I do comedy stuff, there's a few storytimes. Just your usual, I guess?"

"Okay, um, maybe we do a challenge video?" Basic, I know.

"What, and copy everyone else on youtube? I do performing arts, I'm not going to suddenly rewind and change my brand around for views and subs by getting a goddamn shotglass and pressing it up against my lips and sucking the air out of it like a horny teenager does to a dick on prom night." I've gotta say. That's one of the wildest sentences I've ever heard. We both stand there staring at eachother for a minute.

"Yeah, sorry, that was probably too much. I don't hate challenge videos. I just hate the idea that if one becomes super popular that it's a 'must-do' amongst every youtuber ever. Yanno?"

"Yeah, I get it." I say, nodding my head. "I admire sticking up for your brand the way you do."

"Thank you." She looks down at the floor and blushes. That's a wee bit cute.

"Oh hey, I've got an idea." Her head darts back up. There's a small awkward silence. Oh. Yeah. This is where I'm meant to say the thing.

"You know how in Pitch Perfect they do the riff-off?"

"Yeah?"

"What if we like, took the categories from that riff-off, and put it through a random generator, and create our own riffoff? Or make some new categories?" I'm afraid she's going to hate this, but to my relief, a big smile spreads across her face.

"Jon, that's perfect! Alright. I'll set up the camera, can you get the categories loaded into an online generator?" She runs across the room to her half unpacked bag, grabs a camera, mic and a tripod.

~~Five minutes later~~

"Hi guys! My name's Carm, and I'm back on the internet, again. Who knew? It's my first full day in L.A. baby! And guess who I ran into but the one, the only, the magnificent Jon Cozart!" She does some jazz hands in my direction so as to intro me, as most people do.

"Well hello there... wait, what do you call your viewers?"

"I don't know, I don't have a name for them yet." she shrugs. "What do you call yours?"

"Pretty chickens, most of the time. They like to call themselves 'painters' occasionally, or maybe a 'Cozartist'. There's no official name."

"Well then I'm a cozartist. And as for all of you guys -" she says, facing the camera again "-my little.... salties?" I can't help but burst into laughter.

"How the in the fresh hell did you come up with salties?"

"Salted caramel... my name is Caramel.... this is harder than it looks."

"Well, salties it is."

"Basically, what we're going to be doing today is a riff-off!" Carm goes into explaining how it works, and I alternate between looking at her and the camera. When I look at her, I find myself biting my lip a wee bit, but soon enough realise what I'm doing, so as not to distract myself, look back into the camera. Before I know it, carm's looking at me. 

"You ready?" her eyes lock with mine.

"Bring it on."

As the generator spins it's first category (which, appropriately, happens to be Songs About Butts), I realise something. I don't feel as awful as normal. Because you know, sometimes I don't feel great. It's not like within 24 hours of meeting this girl she's gonna clear up all my brain funks. That's not how mental illness works, folks. But, I will say, she's made some clouds go away, or at least I've forgotten about them.

Yeah. I feel a wee bit less shit.

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Hello!

An extra long chapter to celebrate 1K reads. Whaaaaaa? That's unreal. Thank you guys so much!

I'm so thankful for each and every person taking the time to read this. Please, continue voting if you think it's worthy!

Love ya, and see you soon!

~Ellen Cozartist