Chapter Text
Buddy stared up at the ceiling as his back started to rebel against him and his current chosen activity: lying on the floor of Violet’s office for eternity or until she’d kick him out—whichever came first. Waves of purple and white light mingled over the ceiling’s textured surface, and the fabric stored in a bookcase to Buddy’s right caught the light in softer curves while tools and trinkets were punctuated with harsh spots of reflected light. He breathed in, held his breath, and then released it, withered and agonized.
“Oh, my god,” Violet’s groan sat in the back of her throat. “Why?” She turned in her computer chair. “Why are you sighing your life away on my rug? It’s been days since AveCon, and you’ve been stone quiet ever since. What the hell happened?”
“...Tired,” Buddy managed. He felt the soft plush of the rug beneath him. “...And this is possibly the only place in your office without needles or pins.”
“Don’t count on that.”
Buddy tensed and sent Violet a concerned look.
Violet watched him with an exasperated—verging on irritated—expression. “The last thing I remember was you and Chase staying in instead of joining us for dinner on Saturday night. When I got back to the room, all your stuff was packed away, and you were fast asleep. And since then? Nothing but sighs and groans. You’re twenty-two. You’re not a sulky teenager anymore. Use your words.”
Buddy sighed and looked up at the ceiling again. “...I’ve always been so sure. Of myself. Of what I do. Of what I say….”
“You’ve always been foolhardy,” Violet corrected. “That’s not the same as being sure of yourself. It’s gotten you through some difficult situations, but when it comes to being delicate with other people, it’s a worse than useless trait.”
Buddy’s eyebrows pulled together in a wince. “When have I been foolhardy?”
Violet leaned back in her chair and sought out her ceiling for help in recalling the past. “Let’s see. How about that time when you kept insisting to my family’s chef that your mother had given you permission to eat an entire chocolate cake? And when he rightfully turned you away, you figured out ways to keep stealing slices until it was entirely gone and you didn’t even make it home before it all came back up?”
Buddy tensed as embarrassment gripped him. He scoffed. “I was a child who liked chocolate! Any child who likes chocolate would try to steal and eat it. It’s not as if I was allowed any at home. I had to take my chance.”
Violet rolled her eyes. “Okay, what about the time you snuck a flea-infested stray cat into your room and tried to take care of it all by yourself? What were you thinking? Your parents were surely going to find out when you showed up to meals with your skin all bitten to hell and back because you let the cat sleep with you.”
Buddy turned away from Violet and towards the bookcase. “There’s no way they’d let me have a pet,” he whispered. “I had to hide it. Not like it made a difference…,” his voice trailed off.
Violet allowed her head to loll to the side to view Buddy’s curled back. She gracefully decided to sidestep the painful fallout of that particular event. “Alright. How about that screaming match you had with your parents when you were eighteen? And you showed up at my doorstep with your suitcase, all fuming and raging and exhausted?”
Buddy fell silent as that evening from four years ago played through his mind in perfect resolution.
“Nox?” Violet stood at the front door of her apartment watching her childhood friend fumble with the handle on his suitcase as fury swam about in his eyes. Her eyebrows drew together in worry. “What happened?”
Nox released his hold on his suitcase handle and allowed it to right itself back to its upright position. He swung a kick into it with a grunt of frustration. He met Violet’s eyes and shook his head. His prickling, borderline-incoherent rage still spiraled within him despite Violet’s comforting and relaxed presence.
Violet breathed a sigh and stood aside. She nodded into her home. “Come on. Bring your suitcase inside. I’ll dim the lights and fix you a chocolate milk.”
Another spike of anger shot through Nox at the idea of needing chocolate milk to calm down—so childish—but he had no intention of refusing a chance at chocolate. He hooked a hand onto his suitcase’s handle and dragged it inside.
“Put it in the guest room,” she called to him as she eased her front door closed and locked it. She adjusted the light switches, only keeping on what was necessary and dimming the vital lights. “Get yourself into some comfy clothes and meet me on the couch.”
Without a word of argument, Nox tugged his suitcase into the made-up guest room and threw off his constricting clothes in favor of a pair of sweatpants he’d kept squirreled away in the back of his drawers and a loose band shirt he had kept hidden beneath stacks of bland-colored button-up shirts. When he returned to the main living area, anger smouldering, he eyed the slouching comfy couch and its imperfection. His expression softened.
At the sound of a bottle cap popping loose, Nox flinched and turned his attention to Violet in the open-concept kitchen. “Get comfy,” she spoke without looking away from what she was doing. “Not much on tonight: a food show about a guy eating good food, some unqualified idiots fixing up a fixer-upper, a monster in a river—it’s a catfish; they always are—oh. I think there’s that show on you like about things being made.”
Nox’s attention drifted back to the couch. He trudged over, flopped down, and pulled the soft blanket which rested on the couch’s back over his shoulders. He picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned on the television before flipping to the channel showing footage of a factory making hearing aids.
Violet stepped around the comfy armchair and between the coffee table and the couch. “Yup, thought so,” she laughed softly and placed a cold cup of chocolate milk on the coffee table. She sat down beside Nox and nursed a clear glass bottle with a pastel green liquid inside. She sighed and then sipped from her bottle.
It took an hour of silence, low volume from the television, and the entire glass of chocolate milk before Nox leaned to rest his head against Violet’s shoulder. “...I yelled at them. My parents. My grandfather.” His voice was weary, and his thoughts were even more so. “As soon as I turned eighteen, they rolled out my entire life’s plan in front of me….” He lightly shook his head. “And…I just couldn’t…possibly bear the thought that life would get even more strict for me.” His despair coated his tone as he blinked back what Violet assumed were tears. “So I yelled and made a deal that…I could support myself without them or their money.”
Violet nodded and waited until Nox fell silent. “...How much time did they give you to pull yourself together?”
Nox rubbed a hand at his eyes. “They didn’t give me a time limit. Only a checkbook. They said to use it if I need money, but if I did, then I’d have to go home and apologize and live my life how they planned it.”
Violet sighed and wrapped an arm around Nox’s shoulders. “Well. That’s tomorrow’s business. For tonight, just relax.” She eyed the empty glass. “Do you want another chocolate milk?”
After a pause, Nox nodded against Violet’s shoulder.
For the following week, the sedentary lifestyle had Nox’s nerves abuzz with inactivity. All of his schedule: studies, tutoring, coaching, and meals had ceased and been replaced with standing and snacking in the kitchen, quietly watching Violet stream and sew while having floor time on her rug, and staring at the television while time melted away around him. After some days of floor time on Violet’s rug, Nox spoke up, “...Violet.”
Violet paused in her editing and turned in her chair to see Nox doing one of his favorite things: lying slack. “Yes?”
Nox’s head lolled to the side to meet Violet’s gaze. “Why haven’t you yelled at me yet?”
Violet watched him in silence for a moment as she gathered her thoughts and the best way to word encouragement. “...What do you have to gain from me yelling at you?”
Nox’s gaze idly traveled around the room. “...If you yelled at me, I would…feel more motivated to figure out a way to make money.”
“What if I just told you, ‘Nox, you need to figure out a way to make money’?”
Nox’s eyebrows drew together. “That feels strange. What about the yelling part?”
“Yelling would ruin my voice, and my voice is quite important to me. Additionally, nobody wants to be yelled at. If I yelled at you, all it’d do is make you hate me or make you hate living here. It has a slim chance of actually getting you to find a job. Who benefits from that?” She turned back to her computer and continued to mutter, “Besides, you’re someone who’ll go stir crazy if you’re inactive for too long. You want to do a good job, and even though you could use some downtime, you won’t take more time than you need. I’m not worried about you finding a job.”
After a moment’s thought, Nox’s eyes widened, and he sat up. “Violet.”
“Hm?”
“What if I became a Youtuber?”
Violet paused and turned her chair again. “Why would you want to be a Youtuber? Being your own boss isn’t as ideal as you think it may be. You have to organize a schedule, carve out time for your different levels of work, follow through on that work, and manage your social media. It’s a very difficult job that many people don’t take seriously.”
Nox watched Violet with a cautious excitement building within his chest. “I can organize things?” He pushed himself to stand and walked over to stand by Violet’s chair. “For instance…, I’ve noticed that you seem to be taking a long time to finish work, so we tend to eat dinner separately.”
“A bag of fudge stripe cookies isn’t dinner, Nox.”
He waved away her concern masked in a joke. “Right, yes, but I’ve noticed how you take a long time editing. Your workflow could be streamlined. I was watching different Youtuber advice videos on how to use your software to your advantage.” Nox sucked in a gasp. “We could get you a whiteboard and hang it….” He turned until he found an unused spot of wall outside Violet’s webcam’s reach. “There. We could have markers, and we can check off progress milestones on each video as it gets closer to posting. That’ll free up your time, and I can edit some of your videos, too.” Nox met Violet’s eyes with the world hanging on a string in his own. “...So. Can I, Violet?”
Violet breathed in a deep breath before sighing it out. “Alright. You can start with helping me manage my channels, and once you have a handle on how it works, we can work on bulking up your channel.”
Excitement sparked within him, and he pressed his lips into a firm line in an effort to contain himself. Once the initial wave passed, Nox’s lips relaxed into a smile. “Thank you.”
“Mhm. While you’re shadowing me, editing my videos, and keeping a time table, you can think of the sort of content you want to make and what name you want to use.”
Nox’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “Not the name I have now. ‘Nox Delaune’ may stand out, but it’s my family name, not mine.”
“Pff.” Violet waved a hand to dismiss what concern she could. “You don’t need to use the name your parents gave you. I recommend that you don’t. Think about yourself and the person you want to be on Youtube and go from there.”
Nox hummed in thought and proceeded to pace the floor. He carefully took stock of his memories. Discomfort seeped into his mind, and anger nestled itself in his heart. “...I want to be someone unbothered by anything. Someone who can say whatever they want and not care what anyone else thinks.”
Violet’s lips quirked into a relieved smile. “It’s best to have a username that’s two words. Something brief that represents you. VioletStitches and VioletNightmares are long, but they’re easily recognizable, for instance. Write up a list of potential usernames and have it ready to go over in a few days. As your first task for Violet Enterprises, shop online and find us a whiteboard you think will work best for our organizational needs. If you find one in person nearby, we can go and buy some office supplies,” she sang, practically feeling herself dangle a carrot in front of him.
Nox halted and turned to meet Violet’s eyes. The idea of browsing a big-box store to buy anything under the sun was so foreign and out of reach for so long, it had become a dream. “Can we go to the one downstairs next to the mall?” His eyes widened. “Can we go to the mall?”
Violet nodded. “Sure. You have a few hours until I’m done editing this video. Then we can go downstairs if you have a whiteboard in mind, or we can go downstairs anyway. Maybe grab dinner at the food court. If we wanna go really crazy, let’s get your ears pierced.”
“Can I? Can I get my ears pierced?” Nox asked almost breathlessly.
Violet’s smile lit up her face. “If you find a dry erase board and write up a list of potential usernames by the time I’m done editing this video in three hours, yes.”
Nox worked to keep his breaths calm and his excitement from breaking him apart at the seams. He barely had enough time to call out, “okay!” before rushing out of Violet’s room and collapsing onto his blanket nest on the couch. He reached his arms out to his laptop perched on the coffee table and went right to work researching dry erase boards.
Three and a half hours later saw Violet and Nox standing side by side before a selection of earrings ranging from simple studs to sparkling clusters. “This feels familiar, hm?” Violet laughed softly as she watched Nox’s eyes shine with enamored focus. The store was quiet compared to the rest of the mall, and a professionally-dressed sales associate stood some distance away with their hands clasped and with a patient smile.
“Mhm…, Vi, this isn’t too much, is it?” Nox asked hesitantly. He met her gaze as wordless pleas and begging filled his eyes. “It’s…expensive.” He lowered his voice, “We could just go to Claire’s, I think?”
Violet scoffed and rested a hand against her chest, feeling personally affronted. “No little brother of mine is going to be putting his health at risk by letting some unfortunate, uncaring, inexperienced teenager stab holes through his ears. Not on my watch. You pick whichever pair you’re drawn to—price tag be damned.”
Nox’s tense shoulders slackened, and he allowed a ghost of amusement to appear through a small smile. He then focused on the selection again, narrowing down which ones he wanted.
“While you’re looking….” Violet lifted a slip of paper and reviewed the potential names Nox had written down. “Hm. What sort of Youtuber do you want to be? What sort of content do you want to make?”
“Well…,” Nox spoke a bit distractedly. “I want to be able to say what I want. I want to be able to talk about what interests me for as long as I want to. I want to talk about books, makeup, chocolate—whatever. And I want to be strong. I want to be unbothered.”
Violet nodded softly. “Alright. Let’s look at these names. ‘RebelReviews’. A little bland. Not search engine-optimized. ‘DracoDelights’. Sounds like a medieval food channel. That limits your scope for content. ‘CynicCritiques’.” Violet shook her head and clicked her tongue. “That sort of name locks in a negative personality. Not good for expansion. ‘Nodexlaune’. Oh. That’s unique and doesn’t tie you to a type of content.”
Nox huffed. “No, but it still ties me to the Delaune name. I just wrote it down to get past it.”
Violet hummed in agreement. “‘GraysLeafReads’. What’s this?”
“Gray’s leaf insect.” Nox turned, meeting Violet’s gaze and locking into a different interest. “It’s a really cool stick insect. Their wings and legs look like leaves. They’re beautiful.”
“Do you want people to call you ‘Gray’ or ‘Leaf’?”
“...Mm. No.”
“Moving on, then.” Violet’s eyes trailed down the list. “‘AtlasMothReads’. Could be better. Could limit content. People would call you ‘Atlas’ or ‘Moth’.... ‘ArachnidArias’—do you sing?”
Nox’s lips twisted into a thoughtful frown, and he shook his head.
“Alright, then. That limits your expansion for content.” Her attention drifted down the list. “‘ArachnidReads’—Nox, what is with the bugs?”
“They’re cool,” Nox mumbled.
Violet sighed. “You’re going to limit your content base. People are going to think you only talk about bugs, and you’re going to scare away people who are afraid of bugs. Let the bug talk come across in select videos where you can deep dive, okay? You’re going to be a brand new Youtuber; you need to have a versatile name.” She lifted the list to read the next name. “‘PeacockProse’. Much too easy to make dirty jokes with. Could limit your content expansion.”
“Vi, I like these.”
Violet’s eyes flicked up to see the pair of sparkling studs Nox pointed at. “Mm. They’re lovely. We’ll start you with those, then.” Her focus locked onto the list again, and her eyes widened ever so slightly. “Oh. Speak of the devil. ‘DiamondDiva’. Not committed to any particular content field. Potentially good for search engines. Lends itself to a strong attitude without being unapproachable. If you’re at peace with being called ‘Diva’ for short, you could do well with this name.” She looked to the pair of sparkling studs, and her lips pulled into a smile. “Do you want to be someone entirely new?”
Nox met Violet’s gaze and released eighteen years worth of stress in the form of a weary and grateful sigh. “More than anything.”
Violet nodded and waved over the sales associate. “Congratulations on your new set of sparkly ears, DiamondDiva.”
“I see you’ve found a pair you’re happy with,” the sales associate chimed. “Are you ready to have your ears pierced?”
Nox breathed in a stabilizing breath and then gave the sales associate a professional smile. “Yes, thank you,” DiamondDiva hummed.
“Well?” Violet prodded.
Buddy’s gaze trailed down a book’s spine as he was pulled back into the moment. “Fine. I’ve been foolhardy,” he dejectedly admitted.
Violet sighed, and her tone softened, “Nox, what happened that night?”
After a pause, Buddy breathed in a shaky breath. “...I ruined it. I ruined everything.”