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Chapter 3

THE CAMERA GLARED at Nelly Thompson with its one, non-blinking eye. She threw her clipboard on the ground in frustration and followed its path, wheeling her feet—in desperate need of a pedicure and a fresh coat of polish—in the air.

Why am I going blank?

Why am I going blank?The sketch she’d wracked her brains to perfect the night before was scribbled on the paper stuck to the clipboard, perfect in theory. All she had to do was get up, wiggle her body around, say a few witty lines and she’d be set.

At least… that was the plan.

Unfortunately for Nelly, life had a habit of taking her plans, using it as toilet paper after a dump, and returning it to her with a smile. Today was no exception.

Gravity dragged her feet to the carpeted floor, and Nelly was too lazy to resist. Groaning like a child, she covered her eyes with her arms and tried to calm down. It was only her fiftieth upload. No biggie. She was a pro at creating quality content for Our Tube—the biggest video-sharing website in the Americas.

Not that ‘quality content’ was translating into any kind of financial gain at the moment. But it would happen.

Soon.

Very soon.

She just needed one video—just one beautifully viral video—to prove to everyone that she wasn’t a bum wasting time after a bunch of college scholarship rejections. She was an entrepreneur-in-waiting, paving her own way in this new, technologically driven world.

At least… that’s what she told her relatives at family gatherings whenever they stared at her with pity before asking if she was doing something with her life. The answer was always yes. Video-content creation was a ‘thing’ even if the more technologically challenged adults didn’t really understand it.

yes. ‘thing’.Looking at you, Aunt Gladys.

Speaking of aunts, if one more well-meaning aunt tried to set her up with the son of a friend of a friend, she’d explode. Was marriage some kind of Plan B when going to school didn’t work out? Had she missed that memo?

“Get a grip, Nelly.” She fisted her hands at her sides and slammed them against the carpet. “You can’t give up now.”

Nelly blindly felt around for the clipboard. Once she had it in her grasp, she rolled up and stood. Facing the camera, she leveled her chin and gave the intimidating lens a dirty look.

She’d come too far and had told too many friends about this to stop here. That video would be recorded today. It had to, and not just because of her noble determination. People were counting on her.

Driven by lack of inspiration, Nelly had waited until the last minute to plan and record her sketch. The few faithful fans that subscribed to her channel would be disappointed if she didn’t deliver.

Hopping from one leg to the other, she rotated her arms to work the muscles in her shoulders and opened her mouth wide, exercising her jaw. Inspiration would pour from her if she just got the ball rolling.

Point. Set. Shoot.

Nelly ran to the camera and set it to record. Scrambling back to the ‘X’ marked in the carpet, she skimmed over the clipboard and flicked her wrist to toss it to the side. Her fingers slipped and the wooden board got away, dropping like an anchor on her big toe.

She hissed and flailed as pain ricocheted from the tiny point in her feet all the way up to her back, neck and brain. Biting back a curse, she kicked the clipboard away and tried to regain the hype she’d built to complete the sketch in one take.

“Hello,” she said to the camera. With a faint smile that—still in the throes of pain from her toe—looked more like a grimace, Nelly continued. “Welcome back to my channel. I’m Nelly and if you’re… if you’re…oh forget it!”

She plunked to the ground and held her foot. The throbbing was the only indication that her nerves were complaining since the brown shade of her skin made the redness barely visible.

Instead of torturing—and further injuring—herself some more, Nelly decided to take a break and tend to her wounds. Grabbing her house keys, she slipped her feet into open-toed slippers and made her way through the front door.

The bright Belizean sunshine was a stark difference to the shade offered inside. Nelly was taken aback by the blaze and experienced a moment of blindness before her eyes adjusted.

Fluffy clouds marred an otherwise pristine blue sky. Coconut trees waved in the distance, towering over quaint bungalow houses and majestic upper-story apartments. Despite the traffic-free street, an exciting energy tinged the air, reminding Nelly that Belize City was still turning outside of her house.

She smiled and held on to the railing with both hands as she hopped the outer steps to get to the ground floor. When she was safely on the lawn, Nelly held out her hands for balance and jumped into the small grocery store beneath her house.

“Excuse me!” she called, slapping a ‘shilling’ on the counter behind the black burglar bars. “I need medical attention.”

“We don’t sell that here!” a voice called. A moment later, a young, Asian clerk—about twenty-two years old—ducked his head from behind a shelf. “And I thought you were banned from the shop.”

“Come on!” Nelly picked up the quarter and waved it around in the air. “I’m a paying customer.”

“You want me to treat you for… twenty five cents? No thanks.”

“What kind of doctor rejects a patient simply because she can’t pay?”

“One who has to eat?” The clerk raised both eyebrows and grinned. His eyes smiled along, forming two half-moons. “Besides, I’m not a doctor. I dropped out of medical school after one semester.”

“It still counts.” Nelly tilted her head and pouted. “Do I have to keep standing here or will you help me?”

The worker came into view, his tall, slim frame filling the space of the grocery store. She blinked, taking him in as he approached. His handsome, aristocratic face seemed largely out of place amidst the stacks of canned foods, liquors and candy.

“Thank you, Erik. Have I mentioned how much I love you lately?”

He came to the gate, grumbling under his breath.

“What was that?” Nelly cupped her ear.

“How many times have I told you to use the back door if you’re just going to come into the store?”

“It’s more fun this way. It makes me feel like I’m part of a secret society.”

Erik twisted the key in the padlock and swung the iron door open. Reaching out, he gripped Nelly’s hand and helped her to hop into the innards of the shop. “The words that come out of your mouth rarely make sense, yet I’m always stunned.”

“That’s why you keep me around.”

“I can’t get away,” Erik said in a dry tone. “You live upstairs.”

“And so it has been since you were a high school senior and I was a sophomore. Isn’t it great to have an adorable little sister who looks nothing like you?” Nelly asked, grinning up at him.

“You’re not my sister,” he mumbled, displeased.

“Geez.” She shivered. “You take things so seriously.”

“And you take everything like a joke.” Erik bent to the ground and tapped his back. “Get on.”

Nelly stared at him, her lips screwing up with distaste. “I can walk.”

“It will take forever and a day for you to hop to my house, and what if a customer comes? Do I just leave you standing there waiting for me until I’m done?”

“I’m okay with that.”

Erik waddled backward until his bum bumped into her leg. “Stop wasting time.”

Nelly sighed, but leaned over and allowed Erik to carry her. Her hands hung limply and he grabbed them, setting her left arm over his right shoulder in a sort of loose embrace.

“Don’t slip,” he said before rising and holding on to the backs of her knees to keep her from falling.

“I’ve been thinking,” Nelly spoke as they began their journey to Erik’s accommodations at the back of the store. “My numbers haven’t been all that great lately.”

“What’s new?”

She slapped him hard on the back of his head. Erik ducked like a turtle struggling to hide in its shell and turned to glare at her.

“That hurt!”

“That’s what I was going for,” Nelly said prissily. “As I was saying, my subscriber and view count have been fizzling out lately.”

“It’s only been six months. Give yourself some time to get on your feet.”

“Do you remember that video you did with me when I first started out?”

“That humiliating piece where I had to dress up as a pony and recite the Belizean National Anthem?”

Nelly snorted. “Oh, that was gold.”

“Unfortunately, I remember that and the one where I had to eat beans that tasted like toothpaste and the one where we pretended to ‘switch’ personalities. I can’t believe your subscribers find that junk entertaining.” He seemed to realize what he was saying and quickly tacked on. “Not that your content isn’t fantastic—”

andandfantastic—“Save it, Rik. Listen, I’ve been noticing a trend.”

“Uh-huh?” He deposited her on the couch in his spacious one-room studio and knelt to inspect her feet.

“Whenever you’re on my show, the view count shoots up like crazy. I get more attention than ever, and that trickles over to getting more subscribers.”

He set a band-aid on her toe and inspected it, only listening with half of his attention. “That’s nice, Nell.”

“So I was wondering if you’d like to be a more… permanent fixture on the show.”

“As long as it’s not humiliating, then I’m in.”

“Well,” she bit on her bottom lip, “that depends on what you consider humiliating.”

“What do you mean? What would I have to do?”

She took a deep breath and blurted, “Be my boyfriend?” Nelly spread her arms out. “Please?”

Erik’s jaw dropped and his fingers grew lax, allowing the box of Band-Aids to fall from his hands and spill over the wooden floor.