Open Your Eyes (idubbbztv/OC fanfiction)

chapter one: collared dress

    A/N: A few things before we start: 1) This is the first fanfiction I've published *yay* *screams anxiously* 2) Timelines are irrelevant, please disregard the inevitable inconsistencies with 'real life', whatever that is. 3) I don't hate Anisa, I really like her and I'm using her to further my own story motives mwahahaha (Forgive me, Anisa). 4) Hila Klein is a perfect human being who deserves nothing but happiness in this cruel world.  -emma

     I didn't want to be there. In fact, I was only there because I was contractually obligated. My network had urged me to attend more of these 'internet events' so I could meet creators similar to me—they emphasized that point—so I could perhaps have a chance at lucrative collaborations. Problem is: I'm not particularly fond of creators with a similar online presence to mine.

     I'm what people would refer to as a "lifestyle blogger who is sometimes funny". I review beauty products, make chatty coffee-drinking videos discussing books, and indulge in the occasional dick-sucking video that is a 'Q&A'. Long story short, I'm boring and PC and child-friendly. I'm recommended by mommy-blogs. I'm the crispest, whitest dress shirt in your closet that you never really want to wear. I'm lucrative- and incredibly unfulfilling.

     Then why do it?  You ask (maybe you don't ask, but just throw me a bone here). I'm a little too afraid to put myself out there fully. That's honestly it. If it were really up to me, I would have developed my comedic timing long ago and headed in a better direction.

     But here I am- once again in the middle of VidCon, in a dress that has a collar because I want to seem quirky, nursing the same whiskey sour for half an hour. Second problem is: The last time I went to one of these things it didn't work out too well. I got too caught up in what my career might have been. I also got too caught up in the free drinks, but that's not something I want to re-live. I do my best to avoid memories, and the now non-existent Vines, from that VidCon.

     I'm debating heading out the back door to water the plants with my drink when I see a friendly face in the crowd. Eyes too big and too blue, mom jeans, and a chic Addidas shirt. A familiar face from many a fun Skype call and a few events I attended in the past. Hila.

     Thank god.

     "Hey Nora! I didn't know you would be here," she laughs into my ear while we hug.

     "Honestly, I didn't think I would be," I shout over the pulsing Jacob Sartorius song. Damn, that faggot is catchy.

     Hila smiles and nods knowingly, "Network."

      I laugh and shake my head in defeat, "Network," I repeat with a grimace.

     "Well, since you're here you might as well have fun!" Hila waggles her eyebrows and throws her head over to where Ethan is clearly dominating a conversation with a group of what looks like other creators, though it's too dark and crowded to see who exactly.

     Pulling me through the crowd, Hila's choppy black curls flick over her shoulder as she shoots me a look. "Have you been watching our videos lately?"

      My brow wrinkles in confusion, "Yeah..."

     "What about his?"

     I don't have to ask who he is. My collar feels a little tighter when I respond, "Not really, I mean I don't even follow him or his posse on twitter. They come up a bunch but-"

     Hila's eyes widen, making saucers in the low dance-floor light. "Maybe we should hang out somewhere else then."

     I don't know what's happening until I feel a hand clap onto my shoulder and an Australian accent slurring my name, "Nooora! Bring any fucking foundation to review tonight?"