Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
And the fucked-up part? Yeah, she does have a pretty way of pouting when she’s concentrating. But he doesn’t need to reduce her whole fucking stream down to that. It’s even more insulting because he only donated one dollar, the minimum amount required to send a paid message.
Fuck it.
I donate a thousand bucks with the message.
TheRealCreator: To the boy who wrote the previous message: get off the goddamn internet.
Dakota’s eyes go saucer-wide when she sees the amount I’ve donated, then widen again when she sees the message.
I lean forward. Just another fan in her legion of viewers. Obsessed with every tiny change in her expression.
“Thank you, Creator,” she says, looking directly at the camera. Smile fixed in place…her eyes creasing at the edges, a subtle narrowing like I noticed the first time. The corner of her lip twitches as though she knows, without confirmation, that I noticed it.
“Okay, everyone,” she says a moment later. “This has been a great stream, as per. I’d like to say a special thank you to all my regular viewers, and especially for the donations and subscribers! Don’t fall, folks, and you can build yourself an empire!”
When she logs off, I sit back with a sigh. I didn’t know I’d caught her at the tail-end of the stream.
When her message comes through, my mood changes. Instantly. It doesn’t make sense. She’s like a drug. This stranger. This flawless, beautiful woman.
Calm the fuck down, I chastise.
DakkyDuck: Please tell me a way I can send this money back.
I smirk at her message. I don’t know anything about her except what I can see on her stream, but somehow, I think… of course. She wants to send the money back. She doesn’t want to profit that much from a single donation.
TheRealCreator: That’s not going to happen, beautiful.
DakkyDuck: I don’t want to take advantage of a vulnerable person.
TheRealCreator: What makes you think I’m a vulnerable person, Dakota?
DakkyDuck: You’re donating what must be a large proportion of your income to a streamer you don’t know. Don’t get me wrong. I love being rewarded for my work. But this is just silly.
TheRealCreator: If it makes you feel any better, I’m richer than any one person deserves to be. Honestly, Dakota, the money’s better off in your hands than mine.
DakkyDuck: Did you rob a bank or something?
TheRealCreator: Or something.
DakkyDuck: Now I’m even MORE curious!
I chuckle.
TheRealCreator: You deserve that donation just for putting up with so many freaks.
DakkyDuck: Some are freaks, sure. But some are just nice people who don’t have the social skills to phrase their compliments very well. It’s not fair to lump them in altogether.
TheRealCreator: You’re more understanding than me.
DakkyDuck: You don’t need a lot of patience with your job?
TheRealCreator: Are you fishing, Dakota? Trying to find out more about the viewer you can imagine falling for?
DakkyDuck: I told you, that wasn’t about you!
TheRealCreator: Then you better tell me who this lucky man is so I can find him.
DakkyDuck: Oh yeah? And do what, huh?
TheRealCreator: Explain to him calmly and logically that he needs to back the fuck off.
DakkyDuck: LOL. That sort of thing could get you blocked. And yes, I was fishing, actually. So, take the bait.
I grin. She’s keeping me in line, talking about bans, despite the fact I just donated a thousand dollars to her. That says a lot about her character. Many streamers would say whatever they think I want to hear after that.
TheRealCreator: My job requires patience. But it’s a lofty goal I don’t always reach. Or ever, honestly. At the start of my career, impatience was my superpower. I had to get things done—yesterday. Now? It’s meetings, boardrooms, and conference calls. The spirit is gone.
I regret the message the moment it’s sent. I shouldn’t even be watching her streams, let alone speaking with her, let alone hinting at who I am. I can just see the headline now…
Power Imbalance: His Empire Fell When He Fell for the Streamer.
Or something more vicious. Something about me being a desperate forty-two-year-old man who couldn’t keep his hands out of the cookie jar.
DakkyDuck: Would you care to get more specific?
TheRealCreator: I can’t. Which isn’t fair, Dakota. You’ve got every right to tell me to go to hell.
DakkyDuck: You work for Halcyon. I know that for a fact.
I grind my teeth.
TheRealCreator: Is that so, you beautiful detective?
DakkyDuck: You don’t want me to know who you are, but you’re happy to call me beautiful? Does that seem fair?
TheRealCreator: You want to see a picture of me, eh?
DakkyDuck: It only seems fair.
I swallow. Knowing this might be the end. I might be reading this wrong.
What if she doesn’t find this thrilling and exciting, but instead thinks I’m the king of the creeps?
TheRealCreator: I can’t show you my face. But I can show you something that proves I’m real. Give me a phrase, random, anything you can think of.