Chapter Text
Henry just had finished his umpteenth dinner of quick noodles, the staple of his diet ever since he ditched his girlfriend Elisabeth; not a pantagruelian meal, but enough for him to drag on his daily schedule as a freelance drawer and cartoonist.
Every day it was the same routine, and that was sort of soothing, almost reassuring to him: wakeup call at 7:00, a quick breakfast with a coffee and a snack, then all of his remaining day was filled with meeting his commissioners’ requests, just with a pause at lunch for a sandwich, pizza or noodles. Ever since, during the pandemic, nearby shops had all implemented a home delivery service, he didn’t even had to come out his flat to do groceries, and neither walking his pet since his cat only needed to be fed and its litterbox to be cleaned once a day.
After a long workday, it eventually was dinner time; and with dinner time, it also came the moment he actually had looked forward all throughout his day; his obsession, his new intense and all-devouring crave, the one for whom he ditched his girlfriend. Some commissioners had noticed a slump in his work’s quality ever since the breakup, but the latter also offered a convenient excuse for what had happened in the professional sphere of him, and as long as money flowed in, there was nothing to worry about.
Truth was, Henry had discovered someone else’s work: that of MountainOfVenus, or MoV for short, the nickname under which operated one of the most famous adult actresses of the web; and her performances had became an obsession to Henry, also known on the web as “Tannhäuser”, a nickname he earned for his illumination-like style, which was sometimes compared to that of medieval artists, hence the parallel with the 13th-Century Minnesänger.
It started with something to spice up a bit his sentimental life, since he found the dates with Elisabeth a bit drab: sharing a meal together and walking in the park at sunset were enjoyable moments, but he feels like needing something more exciting. But soon, Henry’s newfound “spice” had became the main ingredient of his relational life: he couldn’t believe someone could give him such a dopamine hit – Those his girlfriend could give him were just delicate sprinkles of it, while MoV was giving an avalanche of it to everyone following her. Soon, Elisabeth was ditched; nothing dramatic: just a message on her smartphone, with which Henry announced her he was a bit tired of being into a relationship and wanted to just focus on his career, hoping one day he could have done it and starting working for some big, established studio.
Henry felt excited as usual that evening, and everything was set up for his daily Rosie Palm date: he had switched on his laptop, logged in the browser, set the private mode and entered the special code only paying clients were given by the legendary MoV herself, through their mail, something considered to be a honor by the adult content community.
He trembled with the highest possible anticipation of a devastating dopamine and adrenaline hit while typing the query string first and, once reached the address, the code then; MountainOfVenus’ page finally was before his eyes, and soon she was in front of the camera, in high heels and a short sheath dress which everyone knew was soon going to be taken off.
“Hello, guys” – She said in the most mellifluous possible voice – “I’m here another evening to satisfy all of your desires. Who’s the first to post them, or if particularly bold, telling them via his mic?”
Henry, under his nickname of “Tannhäuser”, was to dare expressing his desires for the first time via the mic, and he wanted to go for his most extreme possible ones, when he realized something wasn’t as usual: after the initial excitement, he felt the desire getting duller; he chose freely to explore this world, and now the daily urges had became a slavery; his career was going nowhere, indeed him being devoured by what had became an addiction was starting becoming evident by a slump in quality of his production, not something you want when your dream is being noticed by some big name; and, worst thing of them all, he had basically became a hikikomori: it was since months, maybe one full year, he didn’t came out his flat, had cut out all contacts with his friends and dumped his girlfriend for someone being just a pretty shape behind a camera, and the only living being with which he had some semblance of true connection was his cat, whose persistent meowing anyway betrayed even it, a “simple” pet, was feeling emotionally neglected by its addicted, detached owner. By this point, Henry just barely could remember how was the world beyond the walls of his flat, the cycle of the seasons and the wonder of seeing what was in nature and being inspired by it.
And as soon as he opened the mic, he started almost subconsciously venting his feelings, which for the first time had been able to overpower his urges, in front of everyone listening…
“What do you mean by saying you want to leave?”, asked an utterly shocked MountainOfVenus.
She was struck completely out of blue: no one had ever manifested intention of leaving her “abode of love”, as she herself had nicknamed it and everyone as well called it that way following suit, and even those which left did it in silence and still most often remained as non-paying users, or at least still hanged out around adult contents. But this time it was different: someone was venting out a discomfort having grown within, and might have triggered some similar realizations in other people, endangering her business.
Henry recognized he had dropped a bomb, and tried taking a step back after having ran the entire dash:
“I’m not telling I want to leave, it’s more like… The need for a pause, that’s it.”
“You? You, which were becoming almost an official fanartist of mine?!?”, MoV asked: “Tannhäuser” might have had a slump in the quality of his work, but he still have reserved the his best strokes for her. Now that anyway the novelty was wearing down, he was discovering she as a subject was also becoming trite, and wanted to return to the connection he previously had with others as well.
“Ok, go away. Unsubscribe. Do whatever you want”, MoV went on, “but remember: you’ll want to either return to me, or confess what you did. And if you’ll publicly admit you had been a subscriber of mine, no one will ever want to have anything to do with you again! Everyone comes at me, but everyone must keep the secret: that’s the unspoken rule. Farewell, ‘Tannhäuser’ – I don’t need you, when I already have thousands of people in my warm abode of love and pleasure…”