Some of those poor babies are scared of their own shadows because of how poorly they were treated. We cried together, and we laughed together.
She called me this morning, bawling because the pallets of supplies I ordered were delivered from PetCo.
I kiss Mocha on the top of the head. I’ve had him for almost a month now. He looks significantly better than the day I found him. The patches of skin that were showing have had hair start to grow, and he’s a healthy weight now.
I have no idea what he went through before I found him, and I will probably never know, but I’m so glad that he found his way into my life.
My life never seems to slow down.
Emails. Posting. Analytics.
Those three things play on repeat twenty-four hours a day.
What brands do I want to work with?
What brands have I previously worked with, and what content do I still have to produce for them?
Am I posting too much? Do the people want more?
Are the people staying engaged in my content? Am I gaining more followers than I’m losing? Is the content relatable?
And now I manage Mocha’s account, too, which really isn’t hard. Mocha is so fucking cute that everyone just loves him and his story.
Plus, he has no idea what’s going on, so for him it doesn’t really matter how many likes or views his videos get; he’s just happy to be here. He is honestly the best kind of client; he’s not picky, he works for free, and he’s very easy to please since he just requires a few treats for his time.
I scroll through my camera roll and look through all the photos that I’ve taken this summer, all the ones of Beck and me that I can’t post. The ones that make me smile, the ones that make me a little too excited. He’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
If only you were mine, Beckett Hayes, then I’d post you for everyone to see.
I wonder how he feels about all this. I’m sure that it must be hard for him, at least to a certain degree. There are a lot of factors against us, and I’m sure that he thinks about them all the time. I know I do, not as much as I did at the beginning, but they are still there.
I’m his best friend’s daughter.
I’m half his age.
Most people in the community would frown at the kind of relationship that we have developed.
Looking at it from an outside perspective, I can see what everyone would maybe see.
Rumors will fly, people will speculate about us, and about how long this has been going on for. They’ll forget the factthat we are two consenting adults, and that it’s none of their business.
He’s never made me do anything that I’m uncomfortable with. He never once made me feel weird when I was a kid or when I was a teenager. But they don’t know that, and they won’t care, either. One of us will be the bad guy, and I know that he probably doesn’t care too much about his reputation, but he is still a very respected person in our community. The last thing I want to do is to make him lose that credibility because of me.
I know he struggles. I know that just because I don’t like Briar doesn't mean that he has to just throw away a lifetime of friendship for me. Much like Kaden, I’m sure he’s struggling to come to terms with some of the things I’ve told him, too. I know that it would just be better if I stepped away before I force him away from his best friend.
I know all of these things. Yet, I can’t seem to stay away.
Maybe I am grasping at straws, trying to hang onto something that is too good to be true. Maybe I want something that I’ve never had before.
I wanthim.
But mostly, I just want him to want me, too.
“Hey, can we talk?” he asks, knocking on my door and gently pushing it open.
I’m sitting in my room, my laptop open as I finish the last-minute edits on next week’s KoVi video. Mocha lies next to me, sound asleep.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask, closing my laptop and fixing the way I’m sitting on my bed.
