something else,, quackity

ix

Ah. Well. Now I don't have any words. Dammit, where are my words? My mom says I have too many of them most of the time. Why can't they be here now? When I actually need them for once?

Consequently, the first sound to come out of my mouth is, indeed, nothing more than a sound.

"Ahmnrph," I cough out, wincing as soon as it happens. My arms immediately fold around my waist, and silently I will them to squeeze so hard my insides spew out of my mouth and I can be free from this suffering.

"Yeah." Alex licks his upper lip and swallows. "Yeah. Uh, so now you're on my stream."

"Yes. Hello, viewers watching this. Um, how many?"

"19K."

"19 fucking thousand of you," I say, a swell of bile rising in the back of my mouth.

"Yup. So. Uh. You wanna say hi, while you're here?"

"Oh, su-uhhh." I remember as my mouth closes that my appearance currently consists of shitty couch potato clothes, a head of unwashed hair and a makeup-less face.

"Hang on." Struck with inspiration (if it can pass as that), I pull up the hood of my sweater and tug on the double drawstrings, closing the hood in around my face. I tie them in a bow, considerably reducing the range of my vision, and throw a thumbs-up at Alex. "Better?"

"Oh my God." A laugh breaks out in his voice. "Oh my- and put these on!" He makes a grab for his desk, and suddenly a pair of Ray-Bans are pressed into my hand. I slide them on, and- oh yep. There goes my eyesight.

"I'm gonna have to echolocate my way towards you," I say, edging towards him. "Beep. Beep. Am I nearly there? Man, I can't even imagine what I look like right now."

"No, you're good. Honestly the best I've ever seen you."

"Uh, wow, rude. Do my sweatpants not flatter my figure enough for you? Do my hoodies not gracefully accentuate my waist?"

Alex coughs, gently pushing down my shoulders, and I feel the soft cushioning of a desk chair beneath my ass. "I really don't know what you want me to say to that," he says.

"Fine, I'll ask your viewers, then. Can they, like, send you messages?"

"Yeah, in chat."

"Okay, okay. Uh... um... tell me I'm hot? I dunno?"

He laughs again, and despite the absence of my eyesight I can sense him holding his face in his hands. "Y'know what, yeah. Put a 1 in chat if you agree. This is so weird, I- and wow, that's a lot of ones. Guys. Seriously? Why do you never call me hot?"

"They're anti-male-species. Fuck men, right?"

"That doesn't sound very anti-male-species."

"Okay, just tell me you're in love with me already then." What? What? What just came out of my mouth? Is my hoodie cutting off my circulation? Where did that confidence come from? Shit, I never should've put on the stupid ass Ray-Bans; they're masking my social awkwardness, which sounds like a good thing, but now seeing myself without it I don't think-

"All in good time."

He what? You what, Alex Quack City Titty Whatever?

It's only when I hear an snort to my side that I realise I asked that out loud.

"Anyway, so, uh, I think that's enough real life content for today. Do you wanna say goodbye to chat, who- who are still calling you sexy. Please. Guys. Guys? Really? I need this kind of validation too."