I’ll donate if you take off your shirt.
Can you water me?
Shirtless with succulents, please. You can tend my garden.
I spit out my drink.This shit was too much. If Nora were here, she’d cackle at how ridiculous this was. This was good, though. More comments and likes and shares meant exposure.
I could do that. I could use my face and objectify myself if it got people watching my videos. Yeah. Okay. I took a deep breath and finished the beer. If I was going to do thisfully,then I was going to need liquid courage.
Leaving my place, I went into Nora’s and set the phone up at an angle so they could see my whole body. My face burned, but I ignored it. This was for Nora. Plain and simple. I picked up one of her plants, Jones. “Hey all, I want to talk about Jones here. He’s a real quirky plant. He prefers audiobooks about gardening and is really moody when it comes to direct sunlight.” I paused, repositioned myself, and got closer to the camera. “If I get to a thousand likes and reshares, my next post will be given shirtless. Let’s see what you can do, plant world.”
I stopped recording and posted it.
My blood hummed with adrenaline, and it was hard not to check my phone every five seconds. Notifications came in, but there had to be a way to post consistently without having it take over my life. Three a day. That was my goal. Three videos a day, some shirtless, some not, and then I’d adjust from there. It was a long shot, but I was a desperate man.
Twenty-one videos later,I had six thousand followers and so many notifications about other people using my videos to make their own, I ignored them. People were making videos with mine, and I couldn’t believe it. Others were usingmyhashtags for Nora, and I got a rush every time I got a like. Each one of mine and Nora’s plants had a video story talking about them, and like I promised each morning in a video, if they donated to the link, I’d post a shirtless video.
Things were getting weird.
I was officially pimping my body out for Nora. I had fans messaging me and wanting to meet, and it was surreal. Social media life was not for me, but I had to continue on. Today’s post was all about Nora. The reason to start this entire thing.
“My nightmare of a neighbor turned out to be my best friend and just look at her.” The video went to a picture I had of her smiling wide at the animal shelter. “This pink-haired beauty believes in the power of plant therapy, and you should too. She taught me how gestures and helping out come in different sizes. Have you donated to a cause that helps others?” I had the camera come back to my face.
I sat on Nora’s couch with her plants in the background. “I’m new to being a plant dad, butnotto living on this planet. We need to take care of her. Drop a comment if you donated to the link in my bio, and I’ll share a video of me watering my plant children, in my underwear, later. I need at least five hundred donations.”
I stopped recording, made sure it stitched together well, and posted. I leaned onto her couch, wondering if Nora saw any of these and hoped she did. In the three weeks since she left, I’d come to terms that I might’ve broken what we had for good. The longer time went on, the more I missed her. Even now, I craved her laugh, her floral scent, and way she looked at me.
Like she loved me for me and nothing less.
My phone went off, and for a second, I thought it’d be Nora. But it was Grace and Gilly.
Grace: HOLY SHIT FRITZ YOU HAVE FANS
Gilly: This is INCREDIBLE. Have you made #bigplantenergy swag yet? You could totally sell it!
Grace: I’d buy ten things with that on it. Seriously. I am loving your grovel for Nora.
Grace: #plantdaddy
Gilly: #shirtlesssucculents
Fritz: I hate you both.
Fritz: This is surreal and weird, and I hate it.
Grace: You can’t stop, Fritz. Nora’s social numbers are growing every time you post a video.
I read Grace’s text twice with my breath in my throat. Really? Could this actually help Nora?
I wished there was a way to see if she saw this happening, just so she knew how much I loved her. How much I believed in her, her dream, and the way she lived her life. I ran my hands over my eyes and pressed in and took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure when the end of this campaign was, but these posts were what kept me going each day.
Work was the same, boring and soul-crushing, but these posts were how I stayed connected to Nora. I tended tonotread through comments or all the notifications of who mentioned me, but I wanted to see if people were talking about it. In my search of my hashtags, I found videos of people talking about me and Nora.
One user,@plantsaremylife844, posted a video an hour ago.
“So for allof us thirsting over Fritz, can I just stay something? He talks about his neighbor to help spread word of her cause but let’s be real. He’s into her. They had a thing. They had to. I mean, if he was taking applications for plant mamas, I’d be first in line and knock anyone out who got in my way but…discuss.” #FritzandNora #Flora #TeamFlora
She hadhundreds of likes and comments and—holy shit.
