“You mean except you?”
They paused. “Okay, good point. I’m looking at you. It might seem a bit strange if we did a whole video and I never looked at you.”
“I’m okay with you looking at me. And I don’t know if I’m nervous about that or—” I made a too-hot-soup hand gesture. “You know. It’s just a new thing, I guess.”
“I understand.” They did a thing on their computer and pulled up an image. Light pink background with white dots at random intervals and the title THE LOVE STUDY at the top in an X-Files-style typewriter font. “What do you think?”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what I’d expected but it was kinda...classy. “I like it.”
They nodded. “Good. Pink is not my thing as a general rule, but I was playing with backgrounds and I wanted something a little subtle and a little evocative.” They switched windows to—oh god—a shot of us, then they did something else which made it look as if we were sitting in front of a very pale pink wall with white dots on it and THE LOVE STUDY printed at the top.
“Wow. Okay, that’s cool. Seriously cool. Like magic.”
“The first time I set up the green screen and got it to work felt like magic to me too.” They turned squarely to me, both eyebrows rising above the line of their glasses. “You ready to do this?”
“How would I know if I wasn’t?”
“As long as you’re not going to vomit, you’re probably within the normal bounds of ‘ready to record.’”
I ran a hasty internal check. “Nope. Stomach contents staying where they are.”
“Good. All right. Here goes. I’ll hit the button and it will count down from three, then we’ll be live. When we’re live, it will always say ‘live’ right here in the corner.” They pointed to a spot on the screen. “I’ll be monitoring questions as we go, but we don’t need to address all of them. Talk about whatever you’re comfortable talking about, say ‘off-limits’ about anything you don’t want to talk about. Okay?”
Deep breath. “Okay.”
“And talk to me, not the camera. You can look at the camera, of course, but I think it will be less overwhelming if you treat this like we’re just having a conversation.”
“Um, us and your legion of followers?”
“My legion of followers, ha. Yeah. You still with me?”
“Yep.”
“Let’s go.” They clicked a thing. The numbers three...two...one were superimposed over the picture of us against the pink background. A little red circle appeared right where they’d said it would with the word “LIVE.”
And poof: I was on YouTube.
“Hello and welcome to Your Spinster Uncle, the advice show where we combine forces to answer questions sent in by viewers like you. Today is a very special day because we’re starting a new series called The Love Study, in which we’ll explore dating and queerness and all the complexity therein through the lens of one person’s personal experience. And the subject of that study is our very important guest, Declan. Everyone say hi to Declan.”
I waved at the camera. “Um. Hi, everyone. I’m, uh, Declan. Obviously.”
If I had wondered what it looked like when Sidney smirked—and I’m not saying I had—my answer would have been on their face when I reintroduced myself seconds after they’d first introduced me.
Oh god, five-point-two seconds on YouTube and already blushing. I hoped my friends were drinking to that.
“Our first order of business is getting to know Declan, and then composing a dating profile so we can find him dates.” They turned slightly more toward me. “I have a few questions for you to that end—and I’m sure everyone else does too—but before we do that, why don’t you tell me a little bit about your dating history. And can I share with the audience how we were initially introduced?”
How we were...oh right. “Okay.”
They held my gaze for a long moment, as if making sure, then looked at the camera. “I met Declan through a mutual acquaintance, whose first words about him were to tell me he’d left his last boyfriend at the altar. Before anyone reaches for a pitchfork, I’ve met the so-called jilted fiancé and they remain close friends. Sometimes we make plans that don’t work out, y’all.”
That seemed like a point to the audience that I didn’t think had much to do with me, so I kept my mouth shut and focused on the way they were talking to me but not excluding their viewers, which was cool. They also had a slightly different tenor to their voice, maybe a little lower, almost practiced. Did they rehearse for their show? I should ask later.
“But here you are, submitting yourself to The Love Study.” This time the smirk was only on the side of their mouth facing away from the camera. (Impressive smirk control there.) “Tell us what’s led you to this moment.”
“Um, well, I didn’t really date. For a long time. I mean since then. That was what you might call a low point for me and relationships.” I hesitated, creepily aware of all the people who might be watching.
“How did it change your approach to dating?” Sidney asked gently, as if tossing me a lifeline.
“Right, I guess I just stopped. Figured sex was good enough and I didn’t have to mess with romance. Which it was, don’t get me wrong. Sex is good. Super good.” Shit, shit, shit, I could practically hear Mason laughing and shouting, Drink! “Um, but yeah, I don’t know, it seemed like I wasn’t adult enough for romantic relationships so I just didn’t go there. Like, other people wanted to go out for fancy dinners and I wanted, I don’t know, to stay home and bake cookies together.”
Sidney nodded. “That makes a lot of sense to me. It’s a frustration I’ve heard expressed before, that romance as we’ve constructed it seems alienating on some levels.”
“Yeah, like, I don’t know how to want things I’m not really into. I mean, marriage is great for the people who want it? But if you want something else, it’s harder.”
“Okay. Do you consider yourself personally against marriage? Do you think you might eventually find someone you’d want to marry?” They spread their hands out in front of them, an open sort of gesture. “How do you feel about the role of marriage in your life now?”
“Um.” I contemplated. Oops. Probably not supposed to have long thinking silences on YouTube.
They cracked a smile. “Only the easy questions, right?”
“Ha, yeah. I haven’t thought that much about all this. I know that what I was doing before, six years ago, didn’t work that well for me. And I didn’t know I could...not do it but keep dating. So then I spent six years not-dating. And now... I don’t really know what I want.” I made a face. “Um, sorry.”