My Life Gone Viral
Page 13
Dave looks horrified at this farce and show jumps out of the cereal-box dam without knocking a box over.
But, as you can see, Dave is not a beaver and I am not Canadian.
I’m asking you, really. Can this work? My friend Bradley had a long-distance relationship with a lift expert and um, yeah, he thinks it can.
Dave comes and sits directly in front of the phone.
Dave also wants to know, as you can see. Happy owner. Happy pet. She’s a bit sick of seeing me upset.
At this point, Dave decides she’s going to flop onto my cheek.
I know loads of you maybe feel the same way. I’m sorry things have been a bit heavy lately, but life has just felt really intense. Lots of things have changed, and—
Dave moves in front of my mouth. To avoid the risk of getting a furball, I stop talking for a moment until I can gently move her out of the way.
Dave has spoken and the people have spoken. Please leave a comment and subscribe, and we’ll talk again soon.
I look at Dave. “There’s no need to be quite so rude,” I tell her. Dave just shrugs and goes back to the bathroom. She goes and sits by the washing basket. My cat is in love with another human and I need to face that fact and upload another video. I am not going to check for comments in the middle of the night, either. This is a new, balanced Millie. I am going to practice mindfulness and fall asleep with thoughts of being a jet-set teen who can fly and see her boyfriend whenever she feels like it. I can hire a private tutor and do my high school exams in the first-class cabin. I have grown a bit of a Lauren lobe in my brain. It’s very unrealistic, but very comforting.
#NoWay
The next morning, I surprise myself by waking up at 6:25 a.m. and not at 2:36 a.m., when the desire to check for comments is at its very strongest. I even manage to brush my teeth first before I pick up my phone.
When I get to the bathroom Dave is still in there and has moved inside the washing basket. She is wearing a pair of my dirty jeans as a scarf and looks a bit sad. I think she misses riding the robot vacuum. Sometimes I find her looking longingly at the docking station. Toward the end of Mum and Gary, she used to lie down and let the vacuum go around and de-fur her. Change is hard for cats. And humans.
Finally, once I’ve fed Dave, I look at the comments that people have left. There are times when being a vlogger is great. Today is not going to be one of those days.
Cheat potential is massive
(Thank you for stating my worst fears.)
Face it. To him you were a holiday fling.
(This is not a holiday.)
You can’t commute to Toronto.
(Why do people state the obvious?)
Dave is JOY. Give Dave to me.
(No. She’s lovely and she’s mine.)
It’s OVER. No Way Jose.
(I wish I hadn’t looked at it now. And who is Jose?)
My dad he a lorry driver. He loves my mum
Basically, long-distance relationships are doomed unless you’re a trucker. I’m beginning to think that all relationships are doomed, but I’ve picked up loads of followers. Perhaps people like bare-faced bad news.
I’ve also picked up a new e-mail from Lydia.
Millie,
Powerful new vlog. Sorry to hear about your news. Think the bare face suited the naked emotions. Thinking though this is a one-off natural look? Is that right? I represent Erin Breeler now. Thank you so much for introducing me to her. I think she’ll continue to focus your brand.
L
L with no kiss. Noted.
I am very tempted to go back to bed at this moment but I decide to go visit Aunty Teresa and Granddad. They will be missing Dad. Probably even more than me. I’m doing a Dalai Lama and thinking-of-others thing to ease my suffering.
I also have three pieces of toast before I go because, you know, the cheer-up power of carbs. There’s no meat on it, so it’s completely Buddhist.
Honestly, I could also do with the company and some advice. Perhaps I have gotten a bit too heavy and serious—the opposite of heavy and serious is Teresa.
#Bats
When I get to Granddad’s house, I let myself in. The house is very quiet. I look around. It’s sad without Dad. It’s like a balloon with most of the air let out of it. I can hear someone moving upstairs and I can tell it’s Teresa because she clomps her feet like a horse. I don’t tell her I’m in the room. I just fancy a moment to get used to all this and the new situation.
When Teresa finally does come in the living room, she doesn’t say, “Hello,” she greets me by saying, “Millie. Promise me one thing: You’ll never pick up a bat! You can never be too careful.”
Even Teresa has had a slight attack of the sensibles these days. She’s learning about tropical diseases and sometimes comes out with the most random pieces of advice ever.
I don’t want to ask, but I have to. “Why?”
Teresa looks at me like I should know and the answer is obvious.
“Bats are just a flapping nocturnal mound of terrible death!” Teresa shrieks. “Rabies. Lyssavirus. For all we know, vampire … disease!”
I find knowing about illnesses just leads to more worry, so I try to escape from Teresa fast. She isn’t that easy to get away from, though, when she’s in this mood. She wants to tell you everything she knows.
“Possums, though,” she continues, “they are mainly fine. Very clean animals with cute faces. Just don’t corner them in a store. They can turn very nasty if you threaten them in the chilled food section. Have a look on YouTube! How’s the vlog going, anyway?”
It’s very hard to keep up with Aunty Teresa when she’s like this but yes, THE VLOG. I’m worried I’m boring people like Mum and Lauren. Perhaps Teresa can give me a new opinion on things.
“It’s hard,” I tell her. “I’ve got to keep my profile up, but producing interesting stuff all the time is hard.”
Teresa nods at me. “Yeah, because you need things to go viral a lot. It’s become kind of serious. It’s all very (and she does an impression of me) ‘I’m going to miss my boyfriend.’ I think you need to remember your core audience a bit more.”
This is very annoying, and I wish I hadn’t asked.
“Thanks for that, Teresa!” I reply grumpily. “Do you vlog often?”
“No, BUT I watch lots of them. A lot of my medical knowledge comes from experts on the net!” she says proudly. “I could take an appendix out with a coat hanger. Probably. If it was an emergency on a plane.”
I can’t think that’s a good thing. I’m too angry right now.
“People follow you for fun, Millie. You need to get something out there that’s just a bit fun and light and frothy!”
I know Teresa is right, but I just don’t feel this way at the moment. So, I snap at her and feel bad immediately afterward.
“I’ll tell you what—when you’re a viral sensation you can tell me how you managed it!”
Teresa manages to remain really calm. “You’re very irritable, Millie. Have you had your hormones checked recently for imbalances?”
I find my inner sass. That, at least, has not left me.
“No. But I have been checked for annoying aunties and I’ve got a positive result!”
Teresa, at this point, would normally storm out of the room, but she has a new air of authority. She sits on a dining room chair and leans forward like she is a doctor doing a consultation.
“Millie, I am going to choose to ignore that, and I’m going to think of a way to put fun back into your life. It’s part of my remit as a healthcare professional and as your aunty.”
I’m a bit suspicious of Teresa’s attempts at positivity, but I haven’t got the energy to argue. I want to see Granddad. At some points in your life, you just need old.
#Seeds
I find Granddad in the place he loves the most: his shed. He has made it a potting paradise again. It’s almost like I never ever vlogged here. There’s a few fairy lights left over a shelf. Granddad is s
taring at a tiny sapling. I think he might be talking to it, as I hear him whispering, but he stops when I come in.
“Hello, Millie,” he says with his beautiful crinkly grin. “I was just telling this thing it’s doing a good job growing. People might think I’m nuts, but if it’s not hurting you and it’s not hurting anyone else, I say you can do as you like.”
I stand beside him and put my arm on his shoulder.
“Granddad—everyone is going!” I moan.
Granddad gives me a tiny hug. It’s a strong one, though.
“I bet it feels that way, Millie, but let me give you a very important piece of advice. What’s for you won’t go by you. You haven’t had a disaster. You’ve had life, Millie. People come and go. And they find a way to stay, too. Sometimes whether you like it or not. When your gran died, she told me to water the plants in the kitchen. They were plastic. She knew what she was doing. There’s a way to stay in someone’s life even when you’re not around. You’re going to have lots of loss. I won’t be here forever.”
I wish old people wouldn’t go on about death so much. It really makes me feel sick.
“If people are here”—he points to his heart and thumps it—“then that’s where they are, and that’s where they stay. And that’s as soppy as I get, my girl, so go and do some of that thing you do. Teresa showed me. You’re good at it.”
I love my granddad. My relationship with him is so pure and lovely, even when he is a sexist dinosaur. My relationship with my dad is weirder. He comes and he goes, but he’s in my heart and he’ll never leave. It feels the same way with Mum and Dave.
Can I be honest? I don’t think it’s going to be the same with Danny. Do we really get each other?
Maybe I’m expecting too much. There’s no perfect match in the world—that doesn’t exist. Shut up, Millie. He’s handsome, he’s funny, he’s different. He’s still going.
I check my vlog again. I have lots of views now.
Why do so many women want to settle down? There’s more to life than relationships. Education! Travel! PETS. Dave your cat is incredible. Focus on him.
EscapadeDreams is clearly my mum. She’s pretended she doesn’t know Dave is a “she” to make it look more realistic. How many profiles can one woman have?!
She’s right, though. I won’t tell her that, but she is.
#FarewellFortnight
Over the next two weeks, Danny and I spend a ton of time together. I’m hardly home. Mum is busy working out stuff with Handyman Rod. The bathroom ends up looking incredible. Perhaps blue and yellow twists (my idea) was too brave. Lauren keeps messaging me asking me if her dad is with my mum with an eye roll emoji, but I haven’t been worried about that too much. It’s all about Danny right now.
We go to the movies, we hang out in his room, we hang out at my house. I don’t do any crying and I’m a nonstop comedy machine. The truth is, I don’t want to turn into a girl who waits.
But Danny has a lot of good-byes to do, so I DO turn into a girl who waits. And just before he’s due to go, he drops a bombshell. He doesn’t want me to come to the airport, as he thinks they are very charged places. I had absolutely banked on seeing him and his family off at the international terminal. I had the scene in my head! I knew how it was going to pan out, and what we were going to say to each other.
Finally, the moment comes when the suitcases are packed, Danny’s mum has checked the passports about fifty times, and the Uber driver is waiting, looking at his phone and getting more annoyed. The house is cleared and locked up, so there’s no alternative.
Danny and I say good-bye near a Dumpster.
Not any old Dumpster, either. A Dumpster that people are taking things from. It’s hard to be romantic when someone is wondering whether Danny’s parents have thrown out a priceless antique. CLUE—the label says Ikea. I don’t think they were around in the eighteenth century.
Danny and I have a final huge hug. He starts tearing up, but manages to keep it in. That’s what toxic masculinity does to even lovely guys. It makes them scared just to lose it in the street. I tell him he can cry. It’s the sign of a real man.
Danny looks at me tenderly. “Millie. I think I need to be strong for both of us.”
“No, really, you can cry,” I reassure him.
“I’m okay, Millie,” Danny says.
If this weren’t our good-bye, I’d let myself be a bit annoyed at this. He doesn’t have to be strong for both of us. I can handle my feelings, thank you. Also, he’s frankly not as upset as I think he should be. Sometimes being so laid-back and “Zan” seems a bit inappropriate. I’m quite grateful for the anger, as it stops me going into full snotty-mess mode.
Danny finally gets in the car. As it pulls out of the driveway, he waves and blows me a kiss.
I discover an important fact—sidewalks are lonely, and empty houses are huge, sad, hollow reminders of people who are just about to fly thousands of miles away from you.
I text Lauren. He’s gone.
Lauren texts back with
Don’t forget, just like me, he’s just a text away. We all live on earth! And earth is tiny compared to Jupiter.
There’s no intelligent life on Jupiter, I message back.
There isn’t much at school but we cope, Lauren snaps back.
By the way have you ever seen a camel’s mouth? Google it.
I do, and I wish I hadn’t.
It does take my mind off Danny, though.
When I get home, I check my e-mails. I’m not as upset as I’d thought I’d be about Danny, to be honest. Or I’m not until I read the latest e-mail from Lydia Portancia.
Hello Millie! Where’s a vlog? Let’s keep that heat up on your brand! It bonds that relationship with the audience. It’s the daily stuff that keeps us connected with you as a REAL person. People get bored very fast. Keep it personal, keep it you, and keep it coming at us! Has the boyfriend gone? How does that feel?
L
I’m not a brand. Lydia treats me like Coca-Cola—not a human being. I am not brown fizzy water. I have feelings. There are times when the only logical and very sensible thing to do is to go to bed very early. I put Lydia Portancia away in the compartment of my brain marked “Later” and close the curtains. Good night, world. For the rest of the day, all of humanity is officially canceled.
#TransportGuru
The next morning, I wake up with nothing to do and Lydia Portancia’s e-mail hanging over me. I don’t feel like being happy or pretending everything is okay. It’s not. But I don’t want to do another Debbie Downer vlog either. I’m lying in bed trying to read Jane Eyre AGAIN when Bradley FaceTimes me.
He doesn’t bother saying hello. He comes straight out with the geek.
“Do you know who Danny is flying with? I can track his flight on my app for you if you like. Air traffic is incredible. There are queues of planes.”
“How does that even work?!” I reply. “How do they keep everything in the air without things bumping into each other? COULD DANNY’S PLANE BASH INTO ANOTHER ONE?!”
Bradley looks at me. He can see he’s given me a worry seed that’s growing in my mind.
“He’ll be fine, Millie! The chance of a midair collision is very low. As long as the TCAS works. It’s a collision system. Always listen to TCAS, Millie, and not to the air traffic controller.”
I tell him that if I ever do become a pilot I will keep that in mind. Bradley will turn almost every conversation to escalators or transportation. They are his happy places.
“How are you feeling, anyway?” Bradley says. He sort of barks the question, but I know he cares and I know he means it.
I tut. “You know. Okay. Fed up. My agent woman isn’t helping.”
“You’re big, Millie. She knows that. You’ve got to keep that up.”
How to explain it? I’m sick of sharing my emotions and blurting my brain everywhere. Before all this started, I used to go and hide in my Zen Loo or my bedroom when I had a crisis. Now, I feel sometimes like there
is nowhere to hide. I can’t tell Mum this. She’d just say, “I knew all this was too much for you. Stop vlogging. Take it all off. Delete your account!” So, I say nothing. I keep it all in.
I don’t tell Bradley all this, either. I just say, “I don’t feel like it.”
This sounds lame, but it’s all I can manage.
“I think you need to remind yourself of why you started doing this in the first place,” he says with a smile. “I have an idea. Can you bring Dave around to my house?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” I say. “Why?”
“I’ve got an idea. It might work. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t matter, and if it does, then … that’s good.”
This is Bradley’s beautiful way of trying to cheer me up. It’s appreciated. I tell him I’ll be around as soon as I get dressed.
#DynamicDuo
I explain to Dave that I need to put her in her cat carrier. This gives her the fear, as normally this means she’s going to the vet for a shot. Dave does not like the vet. Things have happened at the vet that can never be spoken of. I manage to tempt her in with part of my toast and walk around to Bradley’s house. She moans all the way there and only stops when Bradley makes a fuss of her. He is one of the few people on earth who is allowed to stroke her ears.
“What have you got in mind?” I ask Bradley.
He has his maximum-strength glasses on. His eyes look huge. The frames really suit him, though.
“What I have in mind,” Bradley announces proudly, “is Huevos!”
At the mention of his name, Huevos comes in and looks at Dave’s pet carrier with total fear.
“Don’t worry, Huevos!” Bradley reassures him. “You’re not going back to the shelter. This is someone new for you—Dave!”
“Is this safe?” I ask.
“Of course it is!” Bradley tells me. “Huevos thinks he’s a cat. I thought what we could do is introduce them on film and link it in to you meeting new people because, you know, people have left your life and now you have to, perhaps, think about new people.”