Dinner over the week was straight-up depressing. Everyone seemed stressed from one thing or another. Owen, for example, couldn't even stream because he had to rest after work. Too much movement and the claw wounds on his chest could open. It was Thursday and they were eating macaroni, the forks flipping up and down.
"How is the new video?" Owen asked Isabella. He was aware of how tired she was, bags under her eyes and her hold on her utensils meek. Not that he was in better condition. Owen was glistening in sweat while wearing the Spain national team jersey. There was training, there was fighting, there was participating in gang wars.
Somehow, construction work was harder than that.
"Views are okay," Isabella mumbled. "Talked to a friend. They said it was a good topic. Might do better in the coming days."
Right, her Discord friends. At this point, they were a major driving force behind her ideas and scripts. On top of going early to work and doing overtime to maximize money, he was starting to exercise as well. His wrist seemed to heal faster the more energy he used. At work, he pushed himself and at home he went further, doing push-ups and sit-ups and burpees until his wrist ached. Luckily, once he ate some food and rested, his wrist would grow stronger than ever. It was awesome. Due to his new schedule, he was becoming increasingly distant in regards to video ideas. He needed the money and to do that he needed to be in peak condition. As much as WuTube helped, the views weren't consistent.
"I was thinking…" Isabella poked at her food. "Should we put in more ads?"
"We're already pushing it with three, I think."
"But our videos are longer. We should accommodate that."
"Hm…how about WuTube shorts?"
"Oh?"
"I can go through the videos and edit what catches my eye, " Owen said. "Plus, I get to catch up on the stuff you've been making. It's a win-win."
"Does it make a lot of money?" Isabella asked.
"No, I believe it's way less than a normal video. However, it does give us exposure and a bit more professionalism. And because of the way WuTube Shorts works, there's a higher chance of going viral."
None of their videos had broken the five hundred thousand mark. They came close with the video from six days ago which reached two hundred thousand views in eighteen hours. The shock from seeing the view count still rattled Owen but Isabella was peeved that they couldn't get over half a million views. Regardless, overall, they were doing well, hitting a channel median of forty thousand views.
They hungered for more. The money, the opportunity, it was dancing just out of reach. Owen couldn't quit working yet. At the same time, he thought he was getting there. He thought that maybe someday he could.
No more smell of oil and dirt. No more exhausted muscles and random cuts and bruises.
There was a clink. Ophelia got up from her chair and put her plate away. She marched to her room without a word.
Isabella blinked, waking up. "Did something happen? She's been like that all week."
"We went to the store together," Owen replied. "Some ruffians were there."
"Ah. So that's why she's been hogging the chips."
Right, the chips. Just buying that stuff took a chunk off his wallet. 'Oh well. You can always make money,' he thought. 'Happiness, on the other hand…it comes and goes but it's always there.'
"Do you want some?"
"Yeah. Cutting down on Mountain Pew has reduced my deductive thinking by forty percent."
"Okay, detective."
Isabella's smile as they ate together was priceless. So was Ophelia as she happily picked out her favourite bags of chips. Ordinary happiness was quite precious. It wasn't some godly moment of life. It just…was. It was happy. It was nice. Small and innocent and whole. It made Owen feel complete.
"We can go next week," Owen said. "I'm working overtime tomorrow though."
"Okay." Isabella nodded. "By the way…"
"Another crate of Mountain Pew? No."
"Worth a shot."
***
It was lunch at work. Owen exited the gas station right across the street from work. Since he was pushing himself to heal his wrist, he might as well run to the store while he was at it. Break up a sweat. Get the blood flowing and the magic bandages working.
'Honestly, I don't even need them at this point.' Owen sipped on the ice tea in his hand. His chest was hurt but the wrist was doing phenomenal. 'Ah, this is the life.'
Since it was close to the construction site, the station store sold drinks at a dollar for any size. Great deal. He got to chill while texting Mary who was currently ranting about her brother. He listened as attentively as a text messenger could. He leaned on the brick wall to the side of the station, drinking with one hand and texting with the other.
"So…you're the guy who impressed Captain Marcel."
That was until seven guys surrounded him. God dammit. He looked up and realized they were members of the Royal Lions. 'Always with these guys,' he thought, sighing.
Among them was Bernard. Bushy beard and grey eyes—yup, same guy. The Captain, the dude with the lion tattoo, Marcel, wasn't here. Weird.
"I'm Yasser. Captain Yasser." Some Arab guy that he didn't recognize strolled up to him. Clearly, he was the commander of the pact. "I brought my best guys here. Didn't want to go for the strength in numbers thing. Not my style and not very cool."
"Uh, okay?" Owen glanced between them. Based on instinct, these guys were each probably on Bernard's level. "I gotta go back to work though."
His hair was black, flowing back and complimented by a black leather jacket and black slacks. Wearing sunglasses and a diamond ring indicating marriage, Captain Yasser smiled and pulled out a fat stack of money. "Why not join me? If you're as good as Bernard says, then I could use a man like you."
Owen blinked. Well, damn. A thousand dollars was a sight to see.
*****
Girlfriend #1: Isabella Pérez
Height: 5'6
Weight: 80 lbs
Date of Birth: October 31
MBTI: INTP-T
Representative Colour: Auburn
Favourite Food: Mountain Pew, Sangria