4. Claude

FOUR

Claude

“ T hese are amazing. What the fuck?”

After we talked—for longer than the twenty minutes she’d first estimated—Arlene had been relaxed enough that she only made a casual comment about how I had to remember it might not look perfect, but it would taste good.

It tasted more than good.

Maybe I was just easy—or biased, because when Arlene didn’t look on the verge of combusting, she was nice to talk to. Sweet, in a cinnamon roll kind of way. I should’ve remembered that when someone was nervous around me, the safest thing always was to talk about Ben.

“Thanks.” Arlene squirmed, heat rising to her cheeks. “You can take some home. I baked a lot.”

“I mean, sure?”

It was my turn to be uncomfortable. Was I abusing her generosity? I didn’t get the vibe that she was a starstruck fan, but… I still hesitated. Most of the people I used to hang out with in LA loved it when others went the extra mile for them on the basis that they recognized them, but…

Not me.

“You know,” Arlene spoke, unaware of my inner turmoil. It was probably for the best. “I should probably rewatch some of the old vlogs now. They really were a lifesaver when I was in college.”

“Is it bad I never quite understood that?”

I loved YouTube. I loved vlogging, and streaming, but I didn’t love watching myself. I guess it was another reason why my content never made it big. I could never quite connect with my audience because I was never a part of it. I saw what others did, and I tried to mimic it. That was it.

“What do you mean?” Arlene cocked her head to the side as she asked.

I didn’t know if she realized how expressive she was or if it was something I could mention without her imploding again. I’d rather avoid more of that happening.

“I just… I loved making content and recording stuff, but when people commented about dopamine hits and healing from watching me talk about the most random stuff?” I shook my head. It wasn’t something I was super proud of, but for some reason, I wanted to tell her, to open up to her. “I didn’t get it.”

For a few seconds, Arlene remained silent. Her chocolate brown eyes darted around. I didn’t want to assume and read too much into what it meant.

“For me? It was about seeing queer people thriving without stress and dread and real-life complications.” She looked down, fidgeting with her hands. “When I was in college, especially as a freshman, most people who weren’t close to me kept reading me wrong. And then there was the whole anxiety about exams and papers and group projects. There was stress coming from every direction.”

“Right.”

I hated that for her. My stomach churned the way it did when people discussed anything transphobia-related. Who wanted daddy issues when you could have issues with your entire family instead? I just nodded, though. It was easy to tell that Arlene needed to talk, and I was used to it. Most trans people I was friends with ended up referencing something at some point.

“So, YouTubers were kind of… goals. I mean, obviously, even back then I knew there was a lot going on behind the scenes?—”

“Understatement of the year,” I snorted.

“Yeah,” Arlene continued, “I wasn’t clueless. I knew no one’s life could be that quote-unquote perfect, but… Watching you, and the others, made me forget. I could believe that lives like that were possible, and within reach, and life wasn’t just shitty for everyone.”

I nodded. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before, but the words somehow sank in better when it was Arlene speaking them. Which was… disturbing. I didn’t have big reactions to people like that.

To distract myself, and figure out how to answer, I grabbed another of the cheesecake bars. To be honest, I hadn’t been fully convinced when I first saw it. She wasn’t kidding when she said presentation wasn’t her strongest suit. That, and I’d forgotten to mention that Rice Krispies weren’t my favorite thing in the whole wide world.

The things really tasted amazing, though. The cheesecake melted in my mouth, and the hints of raspberry she’d added?

Damn.

I could eat the entire batch right here and now. Even the base had… honey? Or something. But it made it so the Rice Krispies weren’t dry, and it all came together, and… Whatever. I never claimed to be a food reviewer. It tasted amazing, and I’d go to great lengths for more of it.

“Do you miss it?”

Uh oh.

This was why lingering silences were never a good idea. People got the need to fill them, and then there was no control of the narrative or running away from topics I wasn’t too comfortable with.

“There are things I miss,” I hedged. “Others, though? Not really. Especially toward the end, I just had all of the ugly and none of the good.”

I stuffed my face with the food. I was going to end up having to ask for a second bottle of water. Was that acceptable behavior? I didn’t usually break into someone’s house after they’d spent hours baking for me. If there was a protocol or a script to follow, I had no idea what it looked like.

My only saving grace was that Arlene didn’t seem to have a clue, either. It would be more jarring if she did and I was the one flailing. I would’ve probably found an excuse to leave by now.

Was that why some people thought I was too callous at times?

“Wasn’t there anyone on your side?” Huh? Arlene was frowning when I looked up. “I mean, I don’t really remember much, and I don’t think I read many of the comments, but surely…”

“Please don’t. Read the comments, I mean.”

Ben had banned me from reading them after I got the gist with the first… hundred, or so. I’d been tempted to go through them again over the years, but… Nothing good came from reading hate comments. That was basic knowledge if one wanted to survive.

I didn’t think anyone actually followed it, but…

“No, no,” she backtracked quickly, “I wasn’t going to, definitely not now. I just meant?—”

“I got it.” My smile had to look as strained as it felt. “Can we change the subject, though? Please.”

“Sure. I mean, of course.” Arlene swallowed, her eyes widening in terror. I grimaced. I didn’t mean to send her into a panic. “What do you wanna talk about? Ugh, I’m terrible at this.”

“I don’t know.” I wouldn’t say I shared her sentiment, but I was clearly not the greatest either. Maybe I could hide under the fact that I was out of practice. It sounded cringe, but… it was kind of true. Back in LA, I mostly hung out with Ben and whoever he’d wanted to hang out with. Here, I’d been more social, but always in groups. There was a different skill set to navigate groups and one-on-one interactions. “I’m at a disadvantage here.”

“Are you?”

It hit me as I spoke the words. Yes, yes, I was.

“I mean, yeah.” Arlene chewed on her lip when I leaned forward. I’d feel bad if I thought the intrusion was unwelcome, but… That wasn’t the vibe I was getting. Besides, there was no better way to know a person than to tease a bit. “What drew you to the munch, other than seeing the ad for it?”

“Oh, that.” She looked away for a second, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sweatshirt. I had to say, it was an odd choice of clothes for a… date—or whatever this was—but I dug it. It made me want to squeeze her. It wasn’t a sensation I was super familiar with. “I guess I’ve always been curious, but it’s always seemed too intimidating. Or I didn’t have the time, or… You know.”

“What are you curious about?”

If someone told me they were curious about something, that was their downfall. Something switched in my brain, and I needed to understand everything.

“The… intimacy, maybe?” Arlene groaned. I wasn’t sure I understood why. “I sound so lame, don’t I?”

“I don’t know.” I really was not the person to answer that question. “Intimacy is so underrated, though.”

“Right?” She perked up there, her eyes glistening with the kind of relief that sucked me in. “But yeah, I think it’s a combination of the intimacy, and the consent, and worship, and… Well, the sexual stuff too, obviously.”

I tilted my head to the side.

Arlene must’ve misinterpreted it because she rushed in with another of her explanations. “I mean, not obviously, obviously. Ugh. Why am I like this?”

“It’s fine.” I chuckled. “You’re sweet, but I swear I’m not offended.”

“You’re not?”

I shrugged. I had to tread carefully if I didn’t want to send us back to square one and questions about the video that should’ve never been uploaded, but…

Huh.

I actually wanted to talk to her, to explain. “Sometimes, I still don’t really know if I’m gray, or demi or what, but that label is only about my attraction to people.” It would’ve been my turn to fidget, but I reined it in. “And, yeah, I’m not a horn dog or anything, but if I want to get in the mood, kinky scenarios are gonna get me there more easily.”

Okay. I’d explained it, she didn’t look at me like I’d grown three heads, and I didn’t feel like clawing out of my skin.

That counted as progress, right?

“That makes sense, I think.” Arlene wrung her hands together. “You said you’ve been to munches before, right?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “A couple of times. I like Cin.”

“Yeah.” Arlene chuckled. “I mean, they were a bit intimidating for me? But everyone is, honestly.”

“Aw.”

I was a sucker for the hurt puppies that needed to build their self-esteem.

Shit.

“But, uh, what I wanted to ask is, have you… done anything else? Other than going to munches, I mean.”

Oh, boy. She really was new to this. “I’ve been to a couple of local clubs a few times. They aren’t my favorite thing, to be honest, but they’re still cool, and I like the people.”

“I’m terrified it will be too overwhelming.”

“Nah.” If I said it wasn’t overwhelming, that had to mean something. “Just don’t go on a day when there’s a special theme, or an event or workshop you’re not super comfortable with. And check the club rules. Some will not allow any play outside of private or semi-private rooms.”

“Right.” Arlene swallowed, but she looked like she was taking note of it. I supposed it was better than what was becoming her usual panic. “I still don’t think I could ever go alone.”

I did, but it wasn’t relevant to this. I just did because I didn’t want someone bugging me about it—at least, not when it wasn’t on my terms, and when I hadn’t made my peace with what it meant and what I wanted it to mean.

I didn’t even attend a munch until I’d sorted through all of it. But we were facing different issues. At least, that was the vibe I got, and I got a good eye for those.

Never steered me wrong, and all that.

“That’s fine. We could go together one day if you want? I could ask Cin if they know a day when it’ll be more quiet.”

No big deal, right? No reason to freak out, either, because I was offering to go to a dungeon with someone else. If today didn’t feel like a date already—gay panic aside—going together to a dungeon definitely counted as one.

Shit.

“I’d love that, actually.”

…Yeah, I was screwed.