Niko
Niko, scrolling through comments this evening, 5:15pm
Username: Dragonfly
The good still outweighs the bad. The creepy comments stand out, but there are so many more that lavish me with praise.
Someone called me a “demi-god.”
Another person said I’m the hottest guy on the app, by far.
So many people just thanked me for the amazing orgasm I was able to provide for them. And as always, I notice some names more than others.
You can’t choose a favorite child…
But you can choose a favorite viewer.
Hercules2210: We don’t deserve you, Dragonfly. Fuck, I could live a thousand lives and never get sick of looking at you.
I hearthe rumble of metal music coming through my cousin’s door before I even push it open.
I walk inside and the smell of fresh tangerine fills the air.
Sevan’s music is deafening, and he’s sitting in his chair, lifting two gigantic dumbbells in reps over his head.
“Sev. Turn that shit down.”
He groans under the weight of his dumbbells, grimacing as he looks at me. “Remote is by the speakers. You do it.”
I finally find the remote and I see a bowl full of tangerine peels next to it. I turn the music down halfway, looking back at Sev as he finishes his set.
“What’s with the oranges?”
He roars as he finishes his last rep and drops the dumbbells to the floor. He pulls in a sharp breath, his biceps and traps bulging even more than I remembered.
“Tangerines are the perfect workout food. Light but energizing. Also, hello to you, too, Niko.”
“Jesus, your arms are absolutely fucking jacked,” I tell him.
“Got to work something out, when I can’t use my goddamn legs for months.”
Sev’s wheelchair is at the edge of his bedroom, and he looks at it like it’s a third person in the room.
It’s heartbreaking to see the two casts on his legs.
Sevan is a fucking badass, and he always has been. I’ve always been “troubled,” but Sevan actually knows how to play society’s game whilealsobeing a badass in between.
He’s strong. He has more tattoos than me. He’s always gotten in physical fights, too, and growing up, he was my favorite kind of bad influence.
But Sevanalsois good at school, and grades, and charming authorities in a way I’ve never been able to pull off.
Usually he’s organized and on top of everything in life, but…
Clearly the injury has been hitting him hard.
“This place looks like a bomb shelter,” I tell him. “Please don’t tell me you’re actually living like this.”
I stride toward the far window, pulling open the window shades.
