by Aidan Wayne
“That’s the other thing. I’m doing Dire Straits Friday nights still, and Brightforest Sundays, because it became so popular I’m still playing it. And then Patreon on Wednesday. I don’t want to overwhelm my viewers? Or put out too much content all at once?”
“That’s a good point. Even Rachel and I usually keep it to three videos a week, spaced out. And you’re right that you don’t want to put too much out at once; not only for your viewers, but it’s easier to burn out like that.”
“Right.”
“I’d suggest doing the unboxing video on Sunday, then. Your Dire Straits series on Friday is kind of a staple now, but you’ve only been doing Brightforest a few months. Maybe this Sunday add a note at the end of your video that you’ll be doing something different next Sunday, and post the video then?”
“Okay,” Sam said. He sounded like he was drifting. “I’ll do that, then.”
“Awesome. And this is awesome, and you’re awesome. So proud of you. Love you so much.”
“Love you too.”
“Now are you going to sleep?”
“I don’t want to stop talking to you,” Sam murmured.
“I’ll talk you through it then,” Dovid said, smiling softly. God he loved him so much. “Lie down?”
The sound of fabric moving around, and then Dovid heard a breathy “Alright. There we are.”
“Which side are you sleeping on this time?” Sam tended to curl up on one side when he slept. It was nice, when they slept together, because it made him easier to hold—and Dovid loved it when Sam wrapped around Dovid’s back to hold him.
“Left side.”
“Good. Your eyes are closed right?”
“Mm-hm.”
“And I’m right there, next to you.”
“Are you?”
“Yeah. See? You can hear me. I’m right there.”
“Mm.”
“I’m the big spoon this time. Holding you from behind. Our legs are tangled up, a little, but it’s okay.”
“Yes...”
“Drift off with me, Sam?”
“Love you.” Mumbled. Sam was probably barely awake.
“I love you too.”
* * *
September was a whirlwind of activity for Dovid. Aside from YouTube, he also did some side-work as a public speaker, both volunteer and paid. With school sessions all starting up, he was often brought in to speak to student bodies about things like personal power, growth, acceptance, and success. Sometimes he was an example of what anyone could grow up to be. Other times he was a minor-celebrity getting to speak out against bullying.
Whatever the reason, he enjoyed the work, but there was a lot of it and it was draining, especially with travel time; he went all over the country. Not to mention that he and Rachel still had to keep up with their usual filming and editing schedule. And while most of August was just them putting up videos from the July Europe tour, September was a new month that needed to be filled with new content.
No matter what though, he made sure to make time for Sam.
Sam, who was continuing to be a rising success in his own right in the gaming community. His YouTube subscribers only continued to grow, his view count remained high, and his Patreon was a continued success. Like Dovid had suggested, Sam continued with Dire Straits let’s plays on Friday nights, but switched it up on Sunday. He finished his run of Brightforest and started a new game, Dew Meadow, which was also offered for him to review first. He liked the game so much and the review was so popular that he started it the next week. Some Sundays though, he posted other reviews or opened blind boxes instead. He’d been sent a few different ones now. And Wednesday nights Dovid and Rachel got to watch more of the Mindy Dire Straits one (because of course they were patrons).
Dovid did spend a lot of time either working like crazy or asleep, so phone calls were sporadic and texts happened throughout the day as time allowed. They missed each other, missed the closeness they got to have back in July, especially with it nearing October. But being a voice in each other’s ears was good too.
* * *
Ready, Dovid typed to him through Skype. Sam grinned and made the call. After a moment it connected, and he found himself staring at Dovid’s beaming face. Rachel was just next to him, looking exasperatedly fond. “Hello,” he said to the both of them.
Dovid, if possible, lit up even more. “Hey, you.” Then, “So? Am I in the shot? Facing the right way?”
Sam couldn’t tell if he was talking to him or Rachel, but he nodded just the same. “You are,” he said happily.
“Awesome.” Dovid tilted his head in Rachel’s direction, without moving too much aside from that. Probably in an effort to stay within view. “That’s your cue, thank you for your help, now go away.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Hi, Sam. Bye, Sam.”
“It was nice to see you too,” Sam told her. “And oh, I’m almost done with that walk-through you asked for.”
“Oh my god,” Rachel said. “Thank you so much. I can’t find any hints anywhere, since the game is still in beta.”
“Happy to help.”
“Yes, okay.” Dovid flapped a hand. “Are you done taking up his attention now?”
Rachel grinned. “Yup, don’t worry. I’m going.” She walked out of the shot.
“Close the door behind you!” Dovid called, still without turning his head from facing the monitor.
“Like I want to hear you two anyway!” followed by a near-slam.
“There now,” Sam laughed. “You didn’t have to be mean.”
“Please. Do you know how much shit she’s given me in, like, the last week alone about our date night plans? Even if they’re date afternoons for me. Because seriously, so much shit.”
There was a time, not even all that long ago, where that would have made Sam feel guilty, for taking up Dovid’s time. But Sam knew just how dearly Dovid enjoyed his time being taken up by Sam. Since Sam wanted Dovid just as much, they both won the more they managed to be in each other’s pockets. It was why he’d suggested regular, planned out Skype dates in the first place, on top of the phone calls whenever they could manage. Sleepy good nights were wonderful, but: “I know you can’t see me but, well, I can see you. And I’d like to, as often as I can.” Dovid had made some flippant, teasing remark, but his obvious delight at the suggestion made it worth it for that alone.
So now Sam simply grinned, in on the joke. He and Charlie didn’t quite have the same relationship Dovid and Rachel had, but he understood sibling love. “How silly have you been about our plans, to have her give you so much trouble?”
Dovid pinched his fingers together. “Oh, you know. The usual amount.”
* * *
Dovid pushed his hands up underneath his glasses to cover his face. He was so tired. They’d just gotten home from a full day. A shoot with Rachel and then a bunch of editing and then an afternoon speech at a special-needs school which was always great but always so draining...
Kids who just wanted validation, to know that they could go out and do things they wanted to do. Kids who got stepped on and bullied and sneered at and Dovid had been one of them once, in some ways, before he grew up a little and learned to take some of his own back. Before he got good-looking enough that most people saw that before they saw his glasses. And even then, only sometimes. Sometimes the comments were worse because of that, like they didn’t realize he was a thinking, feeling person, as opposed to a nice body that came with a white cane.
“You look totally beat,” Rachel said. “Why don’t you take a nap or something?”
“It’s like five pm. That is not the ideal time to nap.”
“With our schedules it can be. If you’re not up by seven, I’ll just make dinner myself.”
“Don’t you dare try to make dinner,” Dovid said alarmed.
A
sigh. “I mean I’ll order dinner myself. Chinese? I’ll get your favorites.” It was a good comfort food for both of them.
“Yeah, thanks. That sounds good.” He yawned, unable to stop it.
Rachel poked him in the shoulder. “Go. Take. A. Nap.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going.”
Dovid went to his room and flopped down on his bed. Eventually he wiggled around, pulling his phone out of his pocket and crawling under the covers.
After a minute of wondering why he still wasn’t comfortable, he took his glasses off and folded them up, setting them on the pillow beside him next to his phone. Then he proceeded to make himself a blanket burrito.
He sighed and closed his eyes. Five o’clock, meaning it was one in the morning for Sam. Way, way too late to call. Or even text; Sam might be doing that thing where he stayed up until ungodly hours of the morning reading, and if Dovid texted him, Sam would text back and deny he was too tired to keep up the conversation and Dovid wasn’t about to chance that. He loved Sam just the way he was, but sometimes Sam acquiesced to things too easily, not wanting to make waves. He was getting a lot better about it as his self-confidence grew; saying “no” to fans, sponsors, and extra hours at work when he felt he needed to. He even said no to Dovid sometimes. But if Sam knew Dovid was feeling this shitty, he’d stay up all night trying to help ease that. And Dovid was feeling so down, he’d probably take whatever Sam would be willing to give him even with being aware Sam was losing sleep over it.
So he needed to wait. He knew he needed to wait.
Dovid wished he could talk to Sam now. That they were closer.
Well. He’d have tomorrow.
Yeah.
* * *
“Hi,” Sam said when he called, smile in his voice. “How are you? How was yesterday?”
Dovid, still tired, bit down a yawn. He felt he hadn’t slept at all. He’d only gotten up half an hour ago, and that was mainly because he didn’t want to be late in talking to Sam. “I’m okay,” he said. “Tired. Yesterday was...draining.”
“Oh no, that doesn’t sound good. Do you want to talk about it?”
Dovid shrugged, not that Sam could see. Sleep had at least helped dull the ache. “It’s not a big deal. I just was doing another pep-talk speech thing yesterday. I love doing it but it can get hard. I... I had a lot of people try to kick me down when I was growing up. It’s sometimes hard to go to these schools and know that’s how these kids have been treated. To know that there are so many others I can’t help.”
“That does sound hard,” Sam said. “I’m sorry.” A pause. “If it helps... I think you are helping. You’re there for people to find, to reach out to. You helped me, you know.”
“Sam—”
“No, I don’t mean with YouTube and my channel or anything like that. Well, I sort of do. You helped me with my confidence. To start really being my own person. I don’t think I would have ever tried what I’m doing now without you. You gave me all the pushes I needed. That’s something. It’s something to me.”
Dovid pressed a hand over his eyes. He wasn’t crying, and he absolutely refused to get a runny, snotty nose while on the phone with Sam. “Wow, um. Thanks.”
“You mean so much to a lot of people, Dovid. You’re so very special and good.”
“Thanks,” Dovid whispered. It was exactly what he needed to hear.
He knew Sam’d be able to give that to him.
Chapter Twelve
Sam Doyle: I am very glad you and Rachel brought tax law up to me back when you visited.
Dovid Rosenstein: Yeah? I mean good! But why?
Sam Doyle: Because it gave me time to start figuring out what I owe for the self-employed part of my income. It’s all due by the end of October and I’m SO glad that I was given the heads up about when I’d have to pay and an idea of how much I’d have to pay. And when it was all due.
Sam Doyle: If I hadn’t known how much to put aside, I, well, I wouldn’t be in a bad way because I’m still fully employed and mostly I’ve been saving all my new income, but the amount I did have to pay wasn’t insignificant.
Dovid Rosenstein: Hahaha, I guess the wonders of self-employment and the government’s cut is the same pretty much everywhere. I hope it wasn’t too much of a blow.
Sam Doyle: Thankfully not! Especially since, after Patreon, I have to declare...significantly more than I was expecting to before Patreon.
Dovid Rosenstein: I like the sound of that :)
Dovid Rosenstein: That things are doing well, I mean.
Dovid Rosenstein: Not that you have to pay more in taxes, because that sucks.
Sam Doyle: I got what you meant :)
Dovid Rosenstein: <3 <3 <3
Dovid Rosenstein: Have you uh, thought anymore about what we talked about?
Sam Doyle: My moving the gaming to full time, you mean?
Dovid Rosenstein: Yeah, that.
Sam Doyle: I have. A lot. I think that waiting is still a good idea—maybe see how things are doing after all the holidays are over. If people still want to be my patrons through Christmas.
Dovid Rosenstein: That’s really smart.
Dovid Rosenstein: And gives you a chance to get your Christmas bonus too ;p
Sam Doyle: Hahaha I hadn’t even considered that, but it’s a good factor to keep in mind.
Sam Doyle: But no I’m thinking about it. Seriously. And I thought I could maybe give myself a time period to work towards. I was thinking February.
Dovid Rosenstein: Yeah? That’s a good solid few months to wait it out and see where things go and if they keep getting better for you.
Sam Doyle: Right!
Sam Doyle: And it’s also the month we met and everything really got started.
Dovid Rosenstein: Holy shit, you’re right. I just counted back and...oh MAN
Dovid Rosenstein: Do you realize
Dovid Rosenstein: We started actually talking
Dovid Rosenstein: On Valentine’s Day
Sam Doyle: What, really? I knew it was February but I didn’t...really?
Dovid Rosenstein: Yeah, yeah, I just pulled up the video I plugged you and that was February 12th of this year. YOUR video went up on the 13th, I saw it, agonized over sending you a message, and finally did at like nine am on the 14th.
Sam Doyle: You agonized? Over sending me a message?
Dovid Rosenstein: Uh yeah? Of course? I was half in love with you just from watching your videos. Voices do me in. That plus the actual content—I said adorable and I meant it, and continue to mean it to this day.
Sam Doyle: Oh. Wow.
Sam Doyle: Well! I suppose we’ll have to do something special for Valentine’s Day. As well as the anniversary of when we first met.
Dovid Rosenstein: Awesome. Four months is a lot of time to prepare!
Dovid Rosenstein: Maybe...maybe we could swing a visit?
Sam Doyle: I was just about to say!
Sam Doyle: Actually I was wondering if maybe you wouldn’t mind my coming to see you. I’ve never been to the States.
Dovid Rosenstein: Are you kidding? Yes, yes, and more yes.
Sam Doyle: I’ll start looking at plane tickets :)
* * *
Nine o’clock on a Saturday and Dovid’s phone pinged with a text alert. When he checked it, he was surprised, and a little worried, to see Sam’s name.
Sam Doyle: Hi, Dovid. Is it alright if I call you?
Dovid was telling his phone to “call Sam” immediately, retreating to his room for privacy.
“Evening,” Sam said, voice quiet and tired.
“Hey, you,” Dovid said about as quietly. “It’s like five in the morning for you. What are you doing up? Are you okay?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Something happened last night and... I’ve been thinking about it. I wanted to ta
lk to you, but I also wanted to make sure it was a decent hour. You know, that I wasn’t being a bother and interrupting a day. I know you’ve been so busy lately.”
“Never,” Dovid said. “If I can’t answer I’ll tell you, but you’re never a bother. Okay?” And fuck, what had happened? Sam had gotten so much more confident in just the last few months, and that had included initiating a lot of their frequent conversations without voicing worry about causing inconvenience. Dovid knew people didn’t get over self-esteem issues that quickly, and he would happily encourage and reassure Sam until his dying day, but...
At least he had reached out, while he was feeling badly. That was so important.
“Okay,” Sam whispered.
Dovid swallowed. “Sam, what...what happened?”
At first there was just silence. Dovid waited, trying to be patient. But the silence stretched and stretched and then there was a tiny sound, just barely audible. It sounded so like someone stifling a sob. Dovid’s heart leapt into his throat. “Sam? Sam, please, please tell me what’s going on.”
“I was telling my brother about how things are going,” Sam said in a rush. “Because—because things are going so well. I—I wanted to share that with him. He...he said he was happy for me.”
“That’s great,” Dovid said softly. And it was. That was good news. So what was the problem? “That’s great,” he said again, not quite prompting. More trying to sound encouraging.
“My parents and I don’t talk too often,” Sam said, still sounding shaken. “They checked up on me a few weeks after I got hurt, and of course I help my father whenever he has computer troubles, but aside from that we don’t talk too much, past holidays. But Charlie...they talk to him quite often, and I suppose he might have brought me up—or maybe they did. Either way, someone brought me up and it—it came out what I’m doing. With YouTube, and gaming, and Patreon, and...and you.”
“Okay.”
“Charlie... I suppose Charlie probably thought it was helping. To tell my parents that things were going well for me. But they asked details, since they know about the IT work and...some...some things were said. To me. About my...my worth in general and what they thought I ought to be doing with my life, over what I am doing with it and—and—” His voice cracked. Dovid ached. “The thing is that I—I quite like my life the way it is now. I do. Work is more bearable knowing that I get to come home to you, even if I’ve started to get more impatient with it, and I’m enjoying my games, and what I’m earning is helping me see that there...there might be a light at the end of the tunnel. That I have a future in something that isn’t just getting yelled at on the phone, or in person or by...by certain people.” He stopped speaking, going horribly silent.
