Play It Again

by Aidan Wayne

  Playitagainsam: Goodness, I can imagine it would be. I’m very glad that I didn’t do that. That scenario makes my experience seem not so bad. At least I only had to scroll past file names and thumbnails. And aside from that, it was a very mild day in terms of work.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Glad to hear it. :)

  Playitagainsam: What about you? Anything exciting going on today? Less traumatizing?

  Dontlooknowdovid: Hahaha, exciting no, less traumatizing maybe. I’m spending the day editing with Rachel. We just did a Day in the Life video—we do those every so often—and those are fun but they require massive editing. And I’ve got to make the music for it too, once we decide on what footage to use.

  Playitagainsam: Wow, that sounds like a lot.

  Dontlooknowdovid: It can be. But I love it, you know? We both do. Makes it all worth it :) Well, that and the fact that we also get paid. That helps make it worth it too!

  Dontlooknowdovid: Hey, speaking of, I noticed that your videos don’t have ads or anything. You’ve totally broken the 10,000 view minimum to put them up. Have you thought about maybe monetizing your channel?

  Playitagainsam: I hadn’t thought about it at all. You...really think that’s something I could do?

  Dontlooknowdovid: Oh yeah, for sure. Your videos are getting a couple thousand views each right now, as people work their way through them, and I know your latest few all had a bunch of views.

  Playitagainsam: Thanks to you.

  Dontlooknowdovid: I don’t know about that. I might’ve been a push to get you popular, but the fact that so many people stayed to watch you and subscribed means that you’re rising on your own merit. Which is awesome!

  Dontlooknowdovid: Anyway, getting that many views per video means that you have the option to put up ads and get paid for it. I could show you how to set that up, if you wanted. It’s not that hard at all.

  Playitagainsam: You don’t think my viewers will mind? I know many people don’t like ads.

  Dontlooknowdovid: You’ll have the people who use ad blockers, and that’s something you can’t help. But a lot of people whitelist the artists they like, specifically so they can add to their income. Just something to think about.

  Playitagainsam: Goodness. I can’t say I really consider myself an artist.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Why not? You make content. People like your content. Sounds like being an artist to me :)

  Playitagainsam: I suppose that’s true.

  Playitagainsam: You really think people won’t mind ads? I certainly wouldn’t be averse to the extra income, but I don’t want to come off as greedy.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Do I come across as greedy to you?

  Playitagainsam: Oh no, of course not!

  Playitagainsam: I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you were. That’s not what I meant at all. You’re an artist making a living.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Right. Exactly. And you could be too.

  Playitagainsam: Oh. Well. I suppose you’re right.

  Playitagainsam: Alright, I’d like to give it a try. There’s really nothing to lose, is there?

  Dontlooknowdovid: There you go!

  Dovid proceeded to walk Sam through enabling ads on his channel and set them as “per view” as opposed to “per click.” Sam was very appreciative all throughout, and Dovid tried to make it clear that he wasn’t expecting anything from Sam for doing this. That he just wanted to help, because he liked him. Which was all true.

  He really hoped Sam liked him back. It seemed like he did. He kept up the conversation. But Sam was also nice. Was Dovid imposing and not aware of it?

  Dontlooknowdovid: And that’s all there is to it. Now, I should probably get to editing before Rachel busts down my door. But don’t be a stranger, yeah? Say hi whenever you feel the urge :)

  Playitagainsam: Why thank you. And I’ll be sure to.

  Awesome.

  * * *

  Dovid’s phone beeped with an incoming Twitter DM around twelve-thirty, just as he was finishing up a new song for his Patreon patrons. He checked it eagerly, hoping, and was super pumped when it did, after all, end up being from Sam.

  Playitagainsam: Good afternoon, Dovid (I believe it’s afternoon for you now? It’s a bit after eight for me). I had a bit of a day at work and I thought of you.

  Dovid grinned. Sam was thinking about him! His day just got one hundred percent better.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Hi! Great to hear from you :) and yeah? What happened?

  Playitagainsam: Nothing so unusual as a porn-filled computer. Just a few very cross clients. It was my day to be yelled at, apparently.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Oh no, I’m sorry.

  Playitagainsam: It’s alright. I’m a bit used to it at this point. Anyway, that’s not the part I meant to tell you. It was more that I had one man in particular who was very creative in his insults.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Yeah?

  Playitagainsam: I was called a “half-tall shortman,” a “horse-pulling layabout” and, most brilliantly, a “shark-toothed walnut.”

  Playitagainsam: I don’t particularly know what a shark-toothed walnut is, but it seems like a very ferocious creature!

  Dontlooknowdovid: I can’t say I love that you got yelled at and insulted, but those are pretty ridiculous insults.

  Playitagainsam: Aren’t they? I wouldn’t mind fancying myself a shark-toothed walnut.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Hahaha, yeah, I can see it.

  Playitagainsam: :)

  Playitagainsam: Have you got anything interesting in the cards today?

  Dontlooknowdovid: I’m not sure I can live up to being a walnut, but I’m doing a livestream with Rachel later for the channel. We’re opening fan mail. Which could very well be traumatizing; most of my fans send food. I’ve eaten a lot of weird stuff, as a result.

  Playitagainsam: That sounds so interesting though! To get packages from all over the world.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Hey, I mean, if you’re interested in that, you’re well on your way to getting popular enough for people to want to start sending you things.

  Playitagainsam: Oh no, that would be a bit much for me, I think. I’ll be content to just hear you tell me about it.

  Playitagainsam: If you want to, I mean!

  Dontlooknowdovid: I do :)

  Dontlooknowdovid: And you’re always free to tune in and watch! Though uh, yeah, with the time difference, I can’t imagine you’d ever be able to :(

  Playitagainsam: You upload them all to YouTube after the fact, don’t you?

  Dontlooknowdovid: Yeah.

  Playitagainsam: So I can just watch you then :)

  They were using an awful lot of emoticons with each other. Were they flirting? Was this flirting? If this were anyone else Dovid would totally consider it flirting. But he really liked Sam, and Sam was just so nice. Maybe Dovid was just projecting. He didn’t want to say or do anything wrong by accident.

  Dontlooknowdovid: Sure thing. Feel free to tell me what you think, okay?

  Playitagainsam: Okay, I will.

  * * *

  “Hey, guys, this is Don’t Look Now with Dovid and Rachel. I’m Dovid, Rachel’s behind the camera, and today we’re doing a livestream! So welcome, everyone. We are live, right, Rachel? Hey, guys, if you can hear us, tweet, um, tweet ‘apple dumpling.’”

  “‘Apple dumpling’?” Rachel asked incredulously. She was, as always, standing out of view from the camera, holding their iPad to check their Twitter feed and YouTube comments.

  Dovid shrugged. “I don’t know, they sounded good. I’ve never had one before.”

  “Okay,” Rachel said, attention on the iPad, “Tessa from YouTube says ‘apple dumpling,’ brianbates on Twitter says ‘apple dumpling,’ isabellabella from Twitter says ‘apply dumpling,’ I think we’re live.”

  “Awesome.” Dovi
d waved. “Hi, everyone! Where are you all from? Go ahead and let us know!”

  “Alright,” Rachel said, “We’ve got USA, USA, Canada, California, Colorado—wow a lot of ‘C’s there. Mississippi, Wales, the UK, England, Japan—geez, it’s pretty late for you guys, isn’t it? Michigan, Kentucky, Canada again, Mexico, Ireland—”

  “Ireland?” Dovid said. “Hey! Welcome to the livestream. I’ve got a friend who lives there.”

  “You’ve got a friend lots of places,” Rachel said exasperatedly. With, perhaps, a touch of good reason. Dovid might have been talking about his burgeoning friendship with Sam maybe a lot.

  Maybe.

  “Moving on,” Dovid said. “Welcome again, everybody! Today we’re going to be answering some questions and opening some fan mail. First off—” he picked up a box from out of view of the camera and held it up “—this one Rachel picked out. I have been assured that it’s covered in a cute cat print, so I’m taking her word for it. Who’s this from, Rachel?”

  Rachel was in charge of opening all the boxes and taking out the letters they were sent, so Dovid could address the fan on camera. It also meant she was the one who read the letters aloud for Dovid. She usually had fun with the gushy ones.

  “This one’s from Diane and Matthew in Rochester, Michigan,” Rachel said. “Matthew is thirteen, and he and his mom put together this package for us.”

  “Oh cool,” Dovid said, even though inside there was that “oh no, a child is watching me” feeling he wasn’t ever able to escape. “Thanks, Matthew! And Diane. Looking forward to seeing what you sent! Or feeling. Or eating. Whatever. Looking forward to it.”

  “It’s specialties of Michigan,” Rachel told him, obviously looking at the letter. “And they wrapped each item in a different color, so I could let you know what things were as you unpacked ’em.”

  “Awesome.” It was always great when fans took his blindness into account while wanting to make fan packages fun. Color-coded packages meant Rachel wouldn’t have to fumble around trying to stay out of the camera while she identified things to Dovid. Rachel would go to great lengths to avoid being on camera. “Okay, well, let’s see...” He reached in and grabbed a package. It was on the heavier side, and something sloshed in it when he picked it up. A beverage of some kind? “What color is this?”

  “That’s red,” Rachel said. “It’s a pop. He said they were sending you some of Michigan’s specialty pop. Open the one you’ve got.”

  Dovid ripped the package open and held up the bottle. “Okay, definitely feels and sounds like a bottle of pop. Are you going to tell me what kind it is?”

  “I suppose I can. It’s called Red Pop.”

  “Wow,” Dovid said flatly after a minute. “That is so creative. Let me guess...it’s red?”

  “Surprise!”

  “Okay, well, red Red Pop. Let me open this and give it a try.” He cracked open the bottle—slowly, they’d had enough pop bottles explode on them from being rattled in transit to know better now—and sniffed it. “Whoof, that smells like artificial red. You know how sometimes something isn’t a flavor, but the flavor of a color? I can’t even see colors and I know when something is red flavor. This definitely is it.”

  “It’s got a picture of a strawberry on the bottle,” Rachel said helpfully.

  “So I guess I’m to assume it tastes like strawberry. Okay, well...bottoms up.” He took a long swallow and, well, it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever tasted, not by a long shot (here’s looking at you salmiakki), but it did taste very red and very artificial.

  “How’s it taste?” Rachel asked.

  Dovid held up the bottle. “You want to try?”

  “I might be curious.”

  “Go ahead. It tastes like red.”

  “It really does,” Rachel said, after Dovid handed her the bottle. “That’s. Interesting.”

  Dovid laughed. “Right, well, next item?”

  “Oh, pick the brown one. That’s another pop.”

  “‘Pick the brown one,’ she says. To the blind man.”

  Rachel snorted. “It’s a pop-bottle shape. Pick it out.”

  “Fine, fine...” Dovid felt around until his fingers found something the right size and shape that sloshed familiarly. He triumphantly held it up. “This better be the brown one.”

  “It is. Open it, open it. It’s called Rock & Rye.”

  “Rye?” Dovid asked as he tore open the packaging and held up the bottle for the viewers to see. “Like the bread?”

  “Don’t look at me.”

  “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Anyway, here goes.” He twisted open the top and took a swallow. “Well,” he said after a minute. “That is...interesting. I honestly don’t know how to describe that. It’s...not quite root beer flavored. How would you even describe this?”

  Rachel took the bottle from him and took her own drink of it. “I’d say that Faygo is a weird brand,” she said. From the sound of it, she had capped the bottle. “Here, hold out your hand to take it back.”

  Dovid did so, and set the bottle down on the floor at his feet, before he reached into the box again. “What color?”

  “Green,” Rachel said.

  Dovid hefted it. This too felt like a pop bottle. “And it is?”

  “...also a pop, apparently. Michigan has a lot of specialty pops.”

  “What kind is it?”

  “It’s a ginger ale. Vernors.”

  “Oh. Can’t go wrong with ginger ale, I guess. And it looks like I’m not going to be thirsty, thanks to this box.” He opened the bottle and took a swallow. “Okay, that one’s really good. I haven’t had ginger ale in a while, but I really like this stuff.”

  “Gimme.”

  Dovid made a face. “See how she talks to me?”

  “Dovid, come on.”

  “Here.” He held out the bottle so Rachel could grab for it and stay out of the shot. “What do you think?”

  “Oh yeah, I like that a lot.”

  “Right? It’s really good.”

  “It is.”

  “Now give it back.”

  “You already have the other two pops!”

  “Rachel, come on.”

  “Ugh, fine, here, hold out your hand.”

  Dovid took the bottle back and set it down next to him on the couch, so he wouldn’t get it mixed up with the two Faygo bottles on the floor. He picked up another package. This one had something dry and crackly-sounding inside, like dead leaves rattling against each other, but the package itself was puffy, like it was covered in a layer of Bubble Wrap. “What is this? It sounds like chips. Are these chips? And what color are they?”

  “Yeah they are. And yellow. It’s wrapped in Bubble Wrap so the chips didn’t get squashed by the pop.”

  “Okay. Are they...special chips?”

  “Yup. According to the letter, these are Better Made chips, a brand from Michigan. That one’s regular, and there’s another one that’s barbecue.”

  “Oh. Alright. Let me just...figure out how to open a bag of bubble-wrapped chips, then. I might need scissors for this.”

  He didn’t end up needing scissors; after some careful feeling around, he found the piece of tape that was holding it all together and peeled it off. The Bubble Wrap unwound easily, and then he was opening the bag Rachel identified as the plain kind. “They taste like chips,” he said after trying one. “Maybe saltier than normal. And...a little greasier, to be honest. Okay, now the barbecue.”

  He put one in his mouth, bit down, and immediately—“Hot! Hot hot hot, okay, bleh, no, sorry, no.”

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  “I’m covering my mouth!” He was; he’d brought his hand up to his mouth—though that was in part to fan it. “I don’t think I’m a fan of barbecue chips.”

  “Wimp.”

 
“You want to try them?”

  “Sure.”

  Rachel couldn’t tell a difference between the Better Made chips and regular ones (“That’s because I have a more refined palate,” Dovid said smugly), and she liked the barbecue chips. Dovid graciously said they were hers to keep.

  “One last package,” Rachel said, “and so you know, it’s wrapped in white. I’m excited for this one.”

  “Okay...” Dovid pulled out the package. It felt sort of hefty, and was about the size of his whole hand. “Are you going to tell me what it is?”

  “Nope.”

  “Great. That means I should be terrified.”

  “It’s a good surprise, I promise.”

  “Uh-huh.” This too was wrapped in Bubble Wrap, probably to keep it from getting squashed by the bottles. He opened it up and took a sniff, and was immediately bombarded by the smell of chocolate and peanut butter. “Wow, this smells amazing.”

  “Open the rest of it so you can try it so I can try it.”

  Dovid grinned and took his time unwrapping the package until he was holding something that felt smooth to the touch, but soft. If he pressed a little bit, his finger indented it and it didn’t spring back. The texture and feel, along with the smell... “Is this some kind of candy?”

  “Eat it, eat it, eat it.”

  Dovid broke off a little piece and put it in his mouth. “Fudge! I think. Is it fudge? Because it’s amazing.” He took another piece.

  “Don’t eat it all,” Rachel whined. “I want to try it.”

  “In a second. And this is great. But why’s it special?”

  “It’s from some place called Mackinac,” Rachel read. “They’re famous for their fudge.”

  “Well, good, they should be. You’re not getting any.”

  “Doviiiiid.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled, handing it over. “But you better not eat it all. We’ll split it after filming.”

  “Deal.” And then, “Oh wow, this is delicious.”

  “Right?”

  “I changed my mind, I’m eating the whole thing.”

  Dovid turned back to face the front, where the camera was. “See how she treats me? Anyway, thank you so much Matthew and Diane. Rachel will read me your letter after filming. This was a great package to open. You all know that I love to try new things! And feel free to send more fudge, by the way.” He took another sip of the Vernors and then said, “Okay, now that we’ve opened a package, I think it’s time to read some comments and answer some questions. Rachel, any good ones?”