* * *
We decided we’d do one last episode of The Love Study the following week and take questions. I wasn’t as intimidated as I had been before by the thought of people calling in or writing in to ask stuff. And it seemed only right to give the folks some warning.
I definitely wasn’t prepared for the uproar our announcement about ending the show would cause.
“Y’all are acting like Declan is dying,” Sidney said finally, amused and exasperated. “He’s perfectly fine. He can visit the show whenever he likes.”
“Wait, I can?”
They shot me a quick smile. “I’m not excommunicating you or anything. You’ve been a guest now. You’ll be welcome again.”
“Whoa. Far out.” I realized I was just staring at them and turned toward the camera. “So yeah, I’m not going to poof out of existence or something. Though that’d be cool. Do you ever sit around wishing magic was real and that was a thing you could, like, learn to do?”
“Poof out of existence?” Sidney asked. “I feel certain I’ve never wished I could do that. No, I take that back. I may have wished that. Not in a happy way.”
“Uh, true. I didn’t catch that until I’d already said it. I meant it in a happy way now. Like poof suddenly I appear. Then when you’re sick of me, poof, I’m gone again.”
They raised their eyebrows, arching over their glasses. “How likely do you think it is I’ll get sick of you?”
I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “You might. I once left someone at the altar, you know. I may be insufferable.”
“Declan, I think that means I should be afraid of you deciding you’re sick of me, right?”
I mock-gasped. “Never! I would never. Perish the thought.” I did a dramatic partial swoon.
“Okay, okay.” They addressed the camera after barely pausing to appreciate my swoon. “More seriously, I wanted to thank all of you for your support the last six weeks. This has been a lot of fun, and it’s been a nice change of pace from the usual Spinster Uncle shows. I know it’s easy to get used to a format and then to want that consistently, so I really appreciate your willingness to allow me to play with the channel a bit.”
“Lobby in the comments if you want Spunk—” I smirked at them “—to do this again. I have some friends who might be willing to give The Love Study a try since it’s been so successful, though they’re out of luck because I totally just snagged the most amazing single person in town. Possibly in the state.”
Sidney seemed momentarily at a loss for words. “I...”
“So yeah, shout it up in the comments,” I said again, kind of covering for them, kind of hoping I could get Mase to agree to do The Love Study. Mostly because Sidney was good at setting people up and also because I thought it might revitalize him on the whole dating front.
Of course, I’d have to convince him, but I thought I might be able to. Maybe.
“I think there might be more comments on this video than any livestream I’ve ever done.” Sidney scrolled. And scrolled. And scrolled. “Um, sorry, everyone. I try not to look unless I’m specifically asking for something but wow, you really like The Love Study.”
“Maybe there will be a season two!” I put in hopefully. I looked directly into the camera. “Some of you out there could use it. You know who you are.”
They shoved me, making me giggle, and rolled into the ad read and outro, adding, “Next week’s episode, the last of The Love Study, will be a Q and A, so please feel free to send your questions by email, Instagram tag, Instagram DM, or voice message. You can also comment or call in with your questions next week. I think that’s it, thank you for watching, and I will spinster at you more next time.”
I waved as they cut the recording.
Both of us exhaled. I leaned back and Sidney leaned forward to continue scrolling.
“Is it batshit?” I asked with some trepidation.
“They are losing their collective mind. I don’t understand why. Do you think they expected us to date for their entertainment forever?”
I put my hand on their arm. “Sidney. That’s exactly what they thought. Isn’t it?”
“Now that we’re saying it aloud...probably. Yes.”
“Jeez, that’s...creepily voyeuristic.”
“Also pretty predictable. This is the age of reality shows and daily vloggers. That viewers expect to witness the ins and outs of strangers’ lives might not be that odd.” They shook their head. “But I’m glad you aren’t tempted to do that. I think I’d have a hard time dating a daily vlogger.”
I only had a passing idea of what a daily vlogger was, but I thought Mason followed some people who posted videos all the time. I kind of understood the inclination to watch, but I couldn’t really imagine being the star of my own constant YouTube channel.
“You’re safe with me. I have no desire to, um, vlog daily.”
“It’s the editing I don’t get. Editing one video a week is exhausting to me. I can’t imagine doing it every day.” They shook their head again. “This is a little...invasive at times. Well intentioned? But it’s as if they are...rather overinvested in our relationship right now. Hmm...this is an...unforeseen side effect.”
I knew I should care about what they were saying, but really I was just watching them, all focused on the computer, sort of musing under their breath about the commenters. I caught “...report you...” and “...that’s um...no...” but mostly I watched them, the furrow in their forehead, the glint of the monitor on their glasses, the angle of their wrist as they navigated their little red mouse.
“Sorry,” they murmured. “Almost done. Probably.”
“Do you want Thai again?”
“Umm...that sounds delicious. Do you mind ordering? Get me any of the curries.”
“Got it.”
By the time the food showed up Sidney was turning off their monitor and I’d put waters on the desk next to the armchairs. They insisted on paying (because: guilt at apparently abandoning me while they worked again, though I just went back to that same film book and read about sound effects). I hadn’t even been meaning to stay for dinner, but it seemed like it made the most sense to order in while they finished up.
In deference to Sidney’s early shift we were very virtuous and only kissed a little before I went home.
Chapter Nineteen
Deb surveyed the disaster progress we’d made with the Fling bricks and took a deep breath. “I didn’t realize we still had a binding machine.”