by Rae Earl
Bradley can see I’m going to explode at this, so he adds quickly, “—WHILST still speaking to the old people in your life and maintaining your relationships with them. It’s cats. It’s dogs. It’s friendships. I think it could work really well.”
I realize Bradley may be on to something here. Perhaps I can do something that’s funny, but still me and about my life.
“Have a little think!” Bradley says. “You can vlog in my room. It’s set up for it. I occasionally do stuff from there when I’m not mobile and exploring lift systems. I don’t want to be in this, though. I’m not really comfortable with it.”
This astounds me. “But you vlog all the time. You’ve got a huge following, Bradley!”
Bradley is firm. “I vlog on my specialist subjects. I don’t vlog feelings. That’s not my brand. My arm can be featured and my name, but that’s it.”
I don’t need to think. This is a great thing to do. It’s certainly better than any vlog ideas I’ve got. I don’t want to cry about Danny. I tell Bradley we are on. First, he takes Huevos out of his room so we can get a dramatic entrance. Then he holds my phone and presses RECORD.
Hello! Sorry I haven’t been around for a while. As lots of you know, I’ve had a lot going on. It’s sort of a new chapter in my life and Hashtag Help I need to make new friends. It’s a very common problem. I’ve had a lot of change and I get that other people may be in the same boat. The thing is, I often look for people like me, but friends can be lurking in the weirdest places.
I’m at my friend Bradley’s house with Dave. Bradley is really into lifts. You may have heard of his vlog, The King of Elevation. I am not into any of that, BUT Bradley and I are good friends. Good friends can be kind of unexpected.
Dave is here to meet Huevos, Bradley’s dog.
I let Dave out of the carrier. She gets out very nervously, and Bradley lets Huevos into the room.
Huevos approaches Dave, and then he and Dave start nuzzling like they’ve known each other for years.
This is Huevos. He thinks he’s a cat, and as you can see, this is love at first sight. Sometimes that’s the thing. Finding new friends and your tribe can mean hanging around with people very different from you. Perhaps there are people who think very differently, like Huevos, but that doesn’t make them not fantastic to be with.
At this point Huevos’s wagging tail accidentally whacks Dave in the face. Dave would normally have a complete feline tantrum at this, but she just purrs her face off.
It’s an incredible scene.
Anyway, that’s it. I’m going to be like Dave and Huevos and just think out of the friendship box a bit more. Lauren, don’t worry, you’re my best friend and I still love you. AND YOU, Dave, obviously. Some people are irreplaceable beings of wonder.
Dave ignores me. Only Huevos exists for her right now.
Thank you for all your lovely comments, please subscribe, and dogs and cats forever.
This makes Bradley laugh out loud. He’s not a huge fan of humor, so this feels like a bit of an achievement. I think I will keep that in the final edit.
“See!” Bradley says. “That was really good. And Dave and Huevos were fantastic. It had a serious point to it, too, but it wasn’t pathetic, like—”
I know Bradley wants to say, “Like your vlogs have been,” but he saves himself and says, “—people who do those vlogs that are all emotions and tears and stuff.”
I can’t get cross at Bradley. I have been a bit soft recently, and his idea to get Huevos and Dave together was genius. Bradley is grinning from ear to ear.
“Upload it now, Mills. It’s brilliant, and thank you for my credit. I don’t think we’ll have the same market, but—it’s really kind of you.”
It’s not even ten in the morning, but I already feel like I’ve done something really quite good. I upload it and look at Bradley.
“I’d better get Dave back. Thank you so much. You’re an incredible friend.”
Bradley goes all businesslike and official. “That’s fine. Off you go. See you soon. I’m going into the city now to film.”
I’ve hit him with too many of the feels. I think it’s time to go.
#HuevosReaction
For most of the day I can’t look at the vlog. The views go up and up. By the time I check it in the afternoon, there has been, in Lauren’s terms, a meltdown. A viral sensation.
Lydia Portancia has already e-mailed.
Millie!
Obviously, the natural look is something you have opted for, and we will have to work with that. That’s your choice. I can only offer advice.
Great vlog. Huevos is a natural. Is anyone representing Huevos? I think that’s a dog we could really work with there! Can you give me some contact deets? BTW I’m sending something Dave’s way. A pet food company ADORES her.
Lydia x
I’ve noticed that Lydia always adds kisses when she wants something.
There are loads of comments, too.
Huevos is everything
(I hope Bradley reads all these.)
More Huevos and Dave
(I think this is a really good idea.)
Huevos and Dave is my new band name
(Please become a famous musician. That would be incredible.)
My followers have gone through the roof. I feel better than I have in weeks, but a bit shallow, too. Is this all it takes for me to be happy? I can hear Mum downstairs singing “Strawberry Fields Forever” while she fixes her afternoon muesli (don’t ask). I go downstairs to talk to her.
“And what are you up to today, Miss Boleyn?”
Mum calls me “Miss Boleyn” when she’s in a great mood. She’s got a thing about the Tudors. This is a bit random and a bit tragic, as the real Miss Boleyn was actually beheaded for being too smart for her own good. King Henry’s cat also had its own suit of armor. I dare not show Dave. She might get ideas.
“I want to see Bradley, and then I think I’m going to chat with Danny for a few hours,” I tell her.
Mum looks at me disappointedly. “So, to confirm, your entire day revolves around boys.”
I hadn’t thought about it like that, but now that Mum mentions it, it’s not very feminist vlogging powerhouse, is it? If I’m being honest, it makes me worried that I might be turning into a sap. Mum goes on. “These are your holidays. Don’t waste them by sitting around. Get vlogging!”
This is the first time my mum has been super-enthusiastic about the whole vlogging thing—but now she sounds like my manager. #Boss.
I think I preferred her when she thought I shouldn’t be doing it.
“Think of all the vlogs you could do! You could do one every day! Go to different places! With Huevos! And Dave!”
Dave, at the sound of her name, leaps over Mum’s legs and disappears back upstairs. I realize that Mum has obviously watched the new vlog, too, and is impressed.
“Okay, perhaps not Dave.” Mum reassesses the situation. “But Huevos and Bradley.”
The real elephant in the room is that Mum likes Bradley. He’s academic, he’s going to try to get to Cambridge University for science, and then he’s considering a degree in disaster management. Actual disasters with hurricanes and things—not the ones you might have online.
“It’s my vlog, Mum. All me.”
“Selfridges sells Chanel, Millie. Big brands like other big brands.”
Mum has an answer for everything. She’s right, though. I need to visit Bradley for the second time in one day with the agent news. I think he’ll lose his mind! Huevos is going to be a star!
#Surprise
On the way to Bradley’s house, I think about what Mum said. Bradley lives his vlog. He starts monitoring traffic delays on Google from 6:00 a.m. He’s the real deal, but he keeps it professional and he knows who he is and who his audience is. And so does Erin (more than 1,000 new subscribers). I’m still struggling, and the more I think about it, the more I get in a knot.
When I get to his room, Bradley is looking at the
evening rush hour in different cities. He keeps one eye on me and one eye on congestion. The traffic patterns and maps give him a sort of joy. I try to get his head away from problems in Rome and Athens and on to my phenomenal news.
“I’ve got some incredible news for you. My agent wants to represent Huevos!”
Bradley does not pull the face that I thought he would. I wonder if he’s just discovered a major jam in Paris or something.
“Oh,” he replies. “I want Huevos to enjoy his life without the need for clicks. He’ll join me in lift vlogging, but I don’t want him to be a star. So, thanks, but no thanks!”
“He’s a dog!” I yell.
“And I want him to stay that way,” Bradley replies calmly. “He has feelings. Your cat has changed since she has become a superstar. I want Huevos to stay the way he is.”
“Bradley!” I say. “Huevos thinks he’s a cat. HE IS NOT NORMAL.”
“There is no normal, Millie!” Bradley shouts quite sharply. “I am surprised at you for using such a terrible phrase.”
I’m embarrassed, too.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
The truth is, Bradley came up with a brilliant vlog, and now I’ve got to surpass myself yet again. It feels like I’m in a juicer. The pressure is always on. I’ve got to squeeze more good vlogs out and get rid of the pulp.
I look at Bradley. I can see that he’s thinking of a way to try to make me feel better. He rubs his finger over his chin, and his glasses slip down his nose, and he creases his forehead. It’s hard to read Bradley, but I’m getting to know his wide range of faces now.
“Traffic can teach you about life, Millie.”
This is typical of Bradley. It all boils down to the things that he loves.
“Look at all these people on my iPad. They are all stuck, but there’s nothing they can do about it. The smart ones just accept that and move on. The stupid ones are currently yelling at other drivers and increasing their risk of having a heart attack.”
I don’t really get what Bradley is getting at. Everyone around me seems to be growing immense philosophical systems to cope with life. I used to be the sensible one. Now, I feel like I’m constantly looking for a mind chauffeur to drive me around life.
“What’s your point, Bradley?”
Bradley walks from one side of the room to the other. “My point is that you should just go with the flow!”
My flow very strongly says that Huevos should appear on my vlog on a regular basis. Dave and Huevos love each other. It’s excellent pet socialization, it’s fantastic for the vlog, I would get to see Bradley more and I’m scared of telling Lydia Portancia that Huevos is not for sale. I know, though, there’s no point arguing with Bradley. Huevos’s profile is remaining on a private locked setting.
I’m annoyed, but I try to hide it.
“Thanks, Bradley. Anyway. Got to go. I’m messaging Danny. We’ve arranged to speak the moment he lands.”
Bradley looks at his watch. “Surely he’s landed by now? Is he on the world’s slowest plane?”
This is full-on Bradley snark.
“He’ll still be trying to shift his body clock, you know. He might have fallen asleep on the airport transport bus.”
“Or he may be seeing … other people,” Bradley mumbles.
I don’t like Bradley’s tone. He’s getting a bit full of himself. I need to tell him that Danny and me are 24-karat-gold SOLID.
“We really miss each other, you know, Bradley!”
Bradley raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, I bet Danny is dreaming of you right now.”
This is a sarcastic comment too far. I’m wearing wedge Converse. I have extra height and extra power.
“Look, I don’t pry into your private life. Danny and me are just FINE, thanks very much—”
Bradley interrupts me with some volume. “You can pry! I don’t care. I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment. This will shock you, Millie, but it’s possible for a boy to be friends with a girl!”
“I know that!” I shout. “We manage it, don’t we?”
Bradley pauses. “Okay, calm down, Millie.”
There’s “calm down” again. I am perfectly calm, thank you. I just have a magnificent handle on my own justified rage. I can see, though, that he looks a bit crestfallen after my comment. I’m not sorry to have put him in his place. If Bradley gives it, I am going to give it back.
I think Bradley knows he’s gone too far. He looks at me and smiles.
“Perhaps Huevos can be a guest star sometimes.”
This is a Bradley peace offering and I accept it. I give him a hug, put Dave in her carrier, and head home. Danny is due to land at 7:00 p.m. our time. I think. To be honest, I’ve put Toronto in the world clock section of my phone. International time zones are very confusing when you do the math in your head.
#DannyChat
When I get home, I go straight upstairs. I wait and then I wait some more. I tidy my desk multiple times and check my phone every other second. I don’t even know what I’m looking at half the time. I scroll through an Instagram account about succulent plants. I have no idea why. I just like a good cactus and it’s something to do.
Finally, at stupid o’clock, Danny appears on Messenger and calls me. Seeing his face is just THE BEST. It’s been a very long day.
Danny grins from ear to ear and screams, “Hey, girl! I saw the vlog—it’s good to see you just getting on with things! I like that!”
What does this mean? Of course, I am just getting on with things. Did he think I would vaporize without him?! I can completely cope with this situation and I don’t like anyone suggesting that I can’t.
Obviously, I don’t say this. I’m not having our first conversation become our first transatlantic argument, so I just say, “Yeah! Bradley came up with the idea. Isn’t Huevos gorgeous?”
Danny nods. “He’s AMAZING. It was so good to see. I couldn’t stand the thought of you just being an overemotional wreck. I don’t want that guilt, really.”
Overemotional wreck?! WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? How has our first chat turned into this? Is this how Danny sees me?
“No! I’m having a good time! If anything, I toned down my natural upness a bit, as I thought you might be a bit jealous.”
Danny dismisses this immediately.
“God, NO! I’m not jealous at all. No, I meant it. You’ve got to keep on it. You’re incredible at what you do!”
On the flight home Danny seems to have devised the perfect girlfriend-annoying formula of “quite patronizing” and “not jealous at all.” Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want an envy maniac—but I’d like him to be a little bit annoyed that I’ve done a joint vlog with Bradley.
After this, Danny talks. And talks. I peer down my phone as he tells me about flight attendants and vegan meals and seeing his grandma at the airport (she probably got there by rocket pack or something equally as dangerous), his house is huge, it’s good to be back, and then, “anyway,” he “has to go” because “there’s stuff to do and friends to see and…”
Just as I’m about to tell him MY news, Lauren calls me and this cuts Danny off. I go to reject the call, but press ACCEPT instead. I am very annoyed at Lauren, at life, at my ludicrous fingers, and a bit at Danny, too—though I’m not quite sure why.
Lauren whispers. It’s impossible to hear what she is saying. I lose my temper quite fast.
“Lauren! This better be good,” I say irritably. “I was just talking to Danny for the first time. I’m going to have to put time into this, you know, to make it work!”
Lauren then does the thing that she always does when she’s trying to be quiet—she shouts.
“Millie. FORGET DANNY. WE NEED TO TALK NOW.”
This better be good, I think to myself. This better involve a major life crisis—illness, death, or worse.
#HotMess
“Are you sitting down?” Lauren is managing to whisper again.
“Yes,” I reply. She is officially scaring th
e bejeezus out of me now.
Lauren takes a huge gulp.
“This morning I went to your house with my dad. You’d already gone to Bradley’s place. My dad went in first and I got his toolbox from the car. When I went in your front door, I saw YOUR MUM AND MY DAD TOGETHER, AND THEY WERE KISSING!”
I take a moment. I ask Lauren if she’s sure they were kissing.
Lauren does a little laugh. “Unless she was flossing his teeth, they were kissing.”
I still can’t get my head around all of this. I wonder if Lauren has been sleeping well recently. Tiredness can make you see things that aren’t there. Also, if you spend loads of time on your phone, you can end up hallucinating. That must be what happened. There is no way on earth that my mum, who is pure strength and sense on two legs with magnificent chunky thighs that could crush steel, would go out with Lauren’s dad. No offense to him, but he’s like a fog. Though opposites do sometimes attract. There’s a man down the street who has mismatched dogs—a Rottweiler and a Pomeranian. It does happen, but Rod and Mum would be far more bizarre than THAT.
Lauren whispers loudly, “I think my dad is listening. I’ve got to go. Let’s speak tomorrow.”
Lauren hangs up. Danny is also not there, but he’s sent me a message.
Did someone else call? Had to go anyway. Good to catch up. Speak SOON. D x
And then there’s four hearts.
No mention of love. Just emojis.
I curl up in my bed. I’m too tired to think of anything right now. I decide not to think about Danny and not to talk to Mum. It’s far too late. I’ll opt for ambushing her in the morning. I know before she’s had coffee she’ll admit to anything.
#NOWAY
When I wake up, there’s no more messages from Danny, but Lauren has texted me.