Chapter 10

At the bank, Owen stood in front of the ATM. With a weary sigh, he inserted his card and entered his pin.

As the screen illuminated, he saw the stark reality: only a couple of negative dollars stared back at him. Disappointment etched across his face, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips.

Today, a Friday, he got his paycheck. Alas, he quickly spent money for Mr. Schmidt and the increased rent, which caused a bit of overdraft. He needed to get groceries tomorrow.

'What am I gonna do now?' A second sigh.

He biked back home, his thoughts a mess. Still, as he approached the door to his condo unit, he wore a bright smile. For Isabella and Ophelia, he had to be strong. He had to pretend.

Thus, he opened the door, greeted the house, and went to make breakfast—or lunch. Technically for the girls, it was breakfast since they just woke up.

Isabella was quiet and cranky while Ophelia discussed a kaiju movie she watched last night. It seemed Isabella got her hooked on Godzilla.

"Why did Mothra have to die though?" Ophelia crossed her arms, sighing. "I hope we see her again…"

Isabella remained tight-lipped. She hated giving out spoilers and even in the midst of morning drowsiness she purposefully kept her mouth shut. After Ophelia left to watch the sequel movie, Owen and Isabella sat in a comfortable silence.

Sometimes, words weren't needed. The two of them ate and cleaned up without exchanging a word. Owen was glad that Isabella was around. He only had so much mental energy to spare after work.

Hours after breakfast (or lunch if you wanted to choose based on time), Owen knocked on Isabella's door. "Hey, are you busy?"

He heard movement inside. Eventually, the door creaked open with Isabella hesitant to open the full thing. "What's up?"

"I need to talk to you. It's important." His eyes flickered over her at the pink wall. Owen's own room was gray and boring, save for the shelf of anime merchandise. Meanwhile, Isabella was very pink and very proud. A cute, homey atmosphere that she kept to herself, which he always tried to respect. "I can come back later if you're busy—"

"Oh, it's fine." The door opened fully and the flood gates for a cotton candy fragrance broke through.

His first thought was, 'What a mess.' The bubble tea he bought two weeks ago was still here. Several empty water bottles were thrown about. Owen pretended not to be affected, stepping over all the junk, and went to sit on her bed. Like the walls, her computer, and her headphones, it was all pink. Stripes of white did occasionally compliment the fuchsia hue.

If it wasn't for the trash lying around, one would think the room was thoughtfully arranged. The bed Owen sat on took the spotlight against the far wall, adorned with plush pillows and a cozy pink comforter. Positioned beside the bed was a small nightstand with a broken lamp.

'I should get that fixed,' he noted. 'And vacuum while I'm at it. Seriously, what a mess.'

Along the opposite wall stood a compact desk holding Isabella's computer set-up. To the right was the sliding mirror closet and to the left was the door which Isabella closed her.

She plopped down onto her pink leather chair and put her Hello Kitty headphones down on her collar. "So…what's up?" She scanned his face. "Is it…financially related?"

He took a deep breath. "Something like that. I—"

"You're not getting a second job," Isabella said sharply. "You love streaming. I won't let you quit."

He wanted to be taken aback but he wasn't. "I appreciate that—"

"I'll get a second job." She rolled around to face her computer. "I'm sure I can find something online and forge a resume."

"Isabella?" His voice was a tinge lower. Slowly, she turned back to him. "I was thinking of something else. "I was thinking of making videos together."

Her expression, always so calm and regal, became bewildered. "Videos?" Isabella repeated.

Owen nodded. Isabella contorted further.

"Videos…so like, are we going to…" Rather than articulate herself, she made an inappropriate gesture with her fingers.

Owen blinked twice. "Wow. Uh, no, not that."

"Oh, okay."

Silence descended. Isabella turned right back around, hiding in shame, reprimanding herself for going right into the gutter—

"When I mean videos, I mean theory videos. For SNaF. Those are huge on WuTube, right?"

She still didn't face him, although he sensed her embarrassment dissipated. She opened up the trending tab on WuTube and asked pointedly, "Like these ones?"

Amongst the list of trending videos was a SNaF video that had a million views and ranked ninth for today. Owen crossed his arms, leaning forward, and nodded. "Yes, those."

"Those are really well made though…"

"Everyone starts from somewhere," Owen replied. "It's not like these guys got immediately good."

"But…aren't we too late? I feel like the new WuTube is dominated by money. If you want a good video, you need good idea editing. For that, you need good editing software."

"Isn't that why we pirate?" His remark caused her to look at him. "What? You do it all the time. You don't have a bank account and it's not like I bought the SNaF games for you."

"Okay, fair. Still…" Isabella stared into the monitor, into the list of trending videos. "I don't know. It's risky."

"This isn't a risk, Isabella. Think of it as an opportunity to do what you've always wanted. Screaming into forums only gets you so far as I'm sure you learned."

Isabella leaned back on her chair. "Yeah, you're right. As always."

"Look, I can ask my boss for overtime," he said. "So don't worry about money. We'll manage. I want you—" He pointed a finger. "To focus on what you want to do. Get your ideas together. Write a script. Then, I'll do the editing and voice over…well, that's up to you."

"I'll do it," Isabella mumbled. "I'm a loser but not much of a loser."

Self-deprecating talk aside, Owen was glad. He clapped his hands together and grinned. "Thanks! I won't let you down!"

"Err, same." Isabella cleared her throat. "I hope my voice doesn't sound weird."

He crossed his legs while uncrossing his arms. "I think it's very pretty."

"Isn't it a bit…I dunno…nerdy? Don't I talk too fast?"

He cupped his cheek, grinning. "I find it adorable."

She sighed. "So I do talk fast."

"And everyone will love it. You have to stand out somehow, right?"

"...dammit, I hate it that you're always right."

"I do my best, cariño."