Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Austin, Texas in the middle of the summer is like being slow-roasted alive. It's the kind of heat that engulfs you, sticks to your skin, and makes you question all of your life choices. But, here I am—thighs gripping my bike for dear life, purple hair tied back under my helmet that is roasting me, and a gopro camera strapped to the front of my bike facing me. Currently streaming live on Twitch. Plugging my instagram and youtube

"Chat, I swear to god if I pass out because of this fucking heat and crash, make sure to clip it for the content and the views. No joke guys I feel like I'm fucking burning in this heat. This was a mistake. It is like 102 degrees and I am in thick motorcycle gear."

Chat blew up.

IronLung_24: bet

ZeroRPM: she gonna melt

HotBikeBae:  @MotorMeow  pls sweat on camera🥵

I chuckled loudly, my microphone picking it up.

"Sounds about right. I keep forgetting how weird and unhinged y'all are. No hate I love y'all but settle down y'all haven't even seen my face yet, so I'm not going to show y'all my sweat. Also talking about it at one mil I will do a cooking/baking stream in which y'all will get a face reveal but only once we hit one mil youtube subscribers or insta followers. Remember guys go follow me on youtube and insta at MotorMeow. We are 300 k away from meeting that goal on both however, remember you only have to hit one mil on one of the accounts for the face reveal. And if you hit one mil on both I will idk we can figure that out in the gaming stream tomorrow."

Lol_Legend69: Yesssss! Face reveal hopefully soon!!!!

itzgreen4590: Plz be careful

OrbitGamer:  @MotorMeow  do you have a destination in mind?

CouchChampion:How many followers for you to try to collab with the Clooless boys

"I'm being careful, don't worry I'm not trying to risk getting banned on Twitch by crashing. No destination, just casual evening riding. And for a collab with the Clooless boys would be up to them. All I'm saying is if one of them hit me up I wouldn't be against collabing."

I slowed to a stop at a red light. Thinking of what to play during tomorrow's stream and what I would do once I hit one mil on both insta and youtube. The light turned green and I revved the engine, the growl of the bike picked up by the mic and probably blowing out a few eardrums in chat. Worth it. I leaned into the curve, the city stretching out before me—glass and steel softened by the smoggy orange sunset. The skyline was familiar, comforting even, like a background I could always come home to after chaotic streams and borderline reckless rides.

Chat was going absolutely feral.

CouchChampion: Bro if  @Pezzy  even blinks in her direction I'm done

ElasticDweeb: imagine Puffer or Droid on a bike LMAOOO

ZeroRPM: Clooless boys meet MotorMeow uh when sign me up

I shook my head with a grin under my helmet. I know the Clooless crew lives somewhere around here as well. But, I wasn't about to DM them like a fangirl—they were funny, sure, and chaotic in the best way—but I had my own thing going. Still... I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about what a crossover could look like.

"Okay chat, hear me out," I said, voice slightly muffled through the helmet but still clear.

"Let's say hypothetically I do run into one of the Clooless guys, what should I do? No like seriously, give me some ideas."

The responses rolled in immediately.

CheezyWeezy: Motorcycle race Pezzy see who wins. Instant content

PixelPaws: Pretend you don't know them. Alpha move

HaterSlayer: Challenge them to Mario Kart IRL

I snorted and chuckled. "Y'all are wild. But not a bad idea. Maybe I'll accidentally 'accidentally' pull up to wherever they're filming next time. Joking by the way I'm not fucking psycho."

I started humming the lyrics to the song Psycho Killer by Talking Heads mumbling out lyrics. I turned onto I 35 speeding up to above 80 mph. When someone asked what song I was humming I told them it was Psycho Killer and that the song reminds me of the Scream movie franchise. I slowed as I turned onto South Congress, , the traffic thinning slightly as I entered the artsy heart of Austin. A breeze kicked up—barely—but I still welcomed it like it was a bucket of ice water. Neon lights buzzed to life on both sides of the street, casting colorful glows on the black chrome of my bike. I slowed again, cruising past murals and food trucks. My stomach grumbled as I smelled a carne asada taco truck. I slowed to a stop parking my bike in front of the truck.

"Alright y'all I think I will end stream here. I've been live for two and a half hours which is shorter than usual however, I am fucking starving so I'm gonna get me some tacos. Any last questions before I end stream chat?"

BoundlessBiker47: What type of bike do you have

rapidZen: Can we see your cat during tomorrow's stream? PLZZ🙏🙏🙏

Kitty4Speed: What kind of tacos u getting🤔

"Kawasaki Ninja ZX-4R all blacked out. Maybe you can see my cat. It's up to her. The best damn tacos out there, carne asada tacos of course. Quick reminder before I end—face reveal at one mil, and I'm still waiting to see if any of you maniacs can make that happen. MotorMeow out—for now bye."

Chapter Text

I ended the live feed, the stream cutting just before I removed my helmet, hair stuck to my forehead and neck, purple strands clinging to my sweat soaked skin. I grabbed my phone and leaned back onto the seat all trust on the kickstand holding the bike up, sipping warm water from the bottle strapped to my bag.

My phone chimed with the twitter DM notification. I opened it absentmindedly—and nearly dropped my phone seeing who it was from.

@Bigpuffer:

Sup, no idea if you're serious or trolling on stream, but if you are down to collab...we're in need of an additional person for our podcast ep this weekend. Hit me up if you're interested. FYI (Pezzy would so be down to casual ride along with you) don't tell him I told you tho.

My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. Shit just got real interesting.

I stared at the message, rereading it three times before my brain fully processed the words. No typo or scam. This is actually Bigpuffer in my DMs. My first instinct? Panic. I sat there on my bike for a solid thirty seconds, water bottle halfway to my lips, heart hammering in my chest harder than the engine I was currently sitting upon.

"Okay. Okay. Breathe. Be cool. You're cool. You're chill. You just got invited to a podcast with the Clooless crew. No. Big. Deal," I muttered under my breath, wiping sweat from my brow as if that would somehow also wipe away the sudden anxiety rising in my throat. My hands shook lightning as I worked on my breathing.

This could change everything. Not that I needed them—my channel was growing fast on its own—but a guest spot with that group? Their fans were loyal, loud, and freakishly online. A crossover would explode my channels. But more than that... I'd been watching them and crushing on them for years. Their chaotic energy matched mine too well. Puffer always felt like the sane one trying to survive. Grizzy was always the chill but big and loud, just don't get on his bad side and don't even get me started on Droid; loud, lively, chaotic, and absolutely hilarious. And Pezzy? Absolute chaos vibes. A ride-along with him sounded like the kind content my viewers lived for, something I lived for.

I typed back a quick reply

Me:

Not trolling, definitely serious. I'm free this weekend. Let me know when and where and I'll be there. Just a fyi I will probably wear my motorcycle helmet when I'm on camera bc I am still faceless but when not on camera I don't mind not wearing my helmet.

I hit send before I could second-guess it, then stuffed my phone into my jacket pocket and stepped off the bike. The smell of sizzling meat hit me like a warm hug and I practically floated to the taco truck, still a little dazed. The guy behind the window raised an eyebrow at my helmet hair and melted expression.

"You alright?" he asked, handing me a plate of tacos.

"Yeah," I said with a crooked grin, tucking a strand of purple hair behind my ear. "I think I just got invited to the chaos Olympics."

Back on my bike, I devoured the tacos with the desperation of a streamer who hadn't eaten all day because that is exactly what I am at the moment and then sat there under the faint hum of the neon signs, staring out at the street. The city looked different now. It always did when something big was about to happen—like the city knew you were about to step into a new chapter and was already writing the opening line for you.

Just as I crumpled my taco wrapper and tossed it into the nearby bin, my phone buzzed again—this time with a Twitter reply notification.

@Bigpuffer:

Bet. Saturday, 2PM. I'll send the address. Also... helmet on stream? That's legendary. The boys are gonna lose it.

I let out a laugh—short and loud, surprising myself. Helmet on was the best kind of power move. I could practically hear their reactions already. Pezzy? Definitely the type to throw playful shade the entire episode. Droid would probably try to guess my real name or call me something ridiculous like "Helmet Hottie." Grizzy might just ignore the chaos and ask me what kind of gym splits I run. And Puffer? He'd keep the crew from combusting. Probably.

I typed out a thumbs-up emoji and said I normally stream with my helmet on to keep up my anonymity until my face reveal. Also the internet doesn't even know what my hair looks like.

I locked my phone. Saturday was only two days away and I'm supposed to do a gaming stream tomorrow afternoon. Shit. Two days to mentally prepare myself for a podcast with four dudes I used to fall asleep listening to. Two days to decide what to wear, how to sit, how to not say something completely unhinged and regret it forever. And two days to figure out whether I wanted to play it cool... or throw some gasoline on the fire by flirting and bring peak MotorMeow energy to their table.

Spoiler alert: chaos wins every time.

I rode home as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the skyline in blood orange and soft pinks. Chat would've eaten this up if I'd stayed live. But tonight wasn't for content. It was for me.

By the time I got to my apartment, I peeled off the sweat-soaked gear like a second skin. My shaggy purple hair was a matted mess, my face shiny with the kind of post-stream grime only Texas summer could cook up. I tossed my helmet onto the couch, collapsed next to it, and stared up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead.

Tomorrow, I'd do my regular gaming stream and maybe a little Q&A if chat behaved. But today? Today was surreal.

Just as I was about to doze off right there on the couch, my phone buzzed again. This time from Instagram.

@elasticdroid tagged you in a story.

My heart did a somersault.

I tapped it open and watched, wide-eyed. Droid had reposted a clip from my earlier stream—me screaming about melting in the heat, followed by a slow zoom on my bike and the caption:

"Who tf is @MotorMeow and why is she funnier than all of us 💀🔥"

It was happening. This was really happening. And if they thought I was funny now? Just wait until they saw what I was like in person. I smiled to myself, a giddy, slightly deranged grin creeping across my face.

This weekend, chaos meets chaos. And I was going to make sure the internet remembered it forever.

But deep down—under the confidence, the helmet, the absolute gremlin behavior I let loose on stream—I was not ready to meet or even see Pezzy. Not like, internet crush ready. I'm talking years-long, late-night-compilation-watching, stupid-grin-on-my-face kind of crush. The kind that started back when I first stumbled across one of their chaotic Rainbow Six Siege streams and thought "who the hell is this menace with the stupid laugh and boyish charm?"

I'd never say it out loud, not even to chat, but Pezzy has me in a chokehold. And not in the "haha he's cute" way, but in the "I've absolutely imagined fake scenarios where we game together, flirt recklessly, and accidentally soft-launch our relationship with a blurry Instagram post" kind of way. The parasocial behavior was real, but I was self-aware about it, okay?

So yeah. Two days. Two days until I'd be sitting across from the guy I used to fall asleep listening to through one AirPod and a cracked phone screen. And if he so much as looked at me in that teasing, sideways-grin kind of way? I was cooked.

I covered my face with both hands, groaning into the palms of my hands like a teenager. I was 25. I was a professional content creator. I had brand deals and a growing fanbase. I could deadlift my body weight. But the thought of hearing Pezzy's voice directed at me in real time?

I was toast.

My cat, Cosmo, jumped onto the couch and headbutted me in the chest. I looked down at her, dramatic and splayed out like she owned the place. She gave me a slow blink and then let out the most judgmental meow I've ever heard in my life.

"Don't look at me like that," I muttered. "I can be chaotic and down bad. Let me suffer in peace."

She flopped against my side and started purring.

I leaned my head back against the cushion and stared at the ceiling again, adrenaline finally simmering into something softer. Nervous excitement. I wasn't sure if this would just be a fun one-time collab or the start of something bigger—but either way, I was showing up as me. Helmet, chaotic energy, shameless flirting and all.

"Okay," I whispered to no one but Cosmo and the ceiling fan, "let's make this weekend unforgettable."

The next day would bring a stream full of teasing chat comments about Droid's story, a billion questions about the Clooless crew, and chat wondering if the collab was actually happening. But that was tomorrow me problem. Tonight, it was just me, a mostly quiet apartment, my cat, and the lingering knowledge that life as I knew it was about to get a lot more interesting

Chapter Text

The next morning hit me like a freight train made of nerves and caffeine.

I rolled out of bed in a tangled mess of blankets and regret staying up way too late scrolling through Clooless Podcast clips like some kind of masochist. I wasn't even looking for anything specific—just reminding myself how funny they were. Trying to figure out just what I'm getting myself into with all of them, especially Pezzy. Reminding myself how effortlessly Pezzy could make a room laugh with one off-beat joke or a sudden shriek of chaos. Or how they all are so lively and different but still somehow fit perfectly together.

Great idea before a stream. Total emotional prep.

I pulled on my usual oversized hoodie—black with "RIDE OR DIE" in white lettering down the sleeve—threw my hair up into a messy ponytail, and plopped myself in front of my setup. Dual monitors glowing, camera angled, helmet off for now but sitting nearby like a loaded weapon of mystery. My cat, Cosmo, was already curled up on her designated stream chair like the princess she was.

I hit "Go Live."

[Stream Starting Soon - Chill Lo-Fi Music Playing]

Chat was already frothing at the mouth before I even fully transitioned to my face-less screen and mic.

JustMeowin: YO SHE'S ON

ZeroRPM:  @elasticdroid  woke the internet with that story 💀

CouchChampion: DID CLOOLESS DM YOU OR WHAT

IronLung_24: Helmet stream PLEEEEASE

"Alright, alright, calm your unhinged little gremlin hearts," I said into the mic, grinning as I leaned forward. "I literally just went live and you're already foaming at the mouth. Love that for us. I can already tell that this stream is going to turn into absolute chaos because it already is starting."

I put my helmet on my head before hitting the transition and showing me with my helmet on and switching to gameplay cam—standard cozy setup: Minecraft today with a dragon mod. But the real entertainment was always the commentary from chat. Because they are unpredictable and weird.

"So. Let's talk about it," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Yes. Droid reposted a clip from my stream yesterday. Yes. I freaked out. No. I did not pee myself—despite what some of you crazy god damn lunatics were saying in the comments. And yes, something might be happening this weekend. Might."

CheezyWeezy: BRO STOP TEASING😠

hotbikebae: don't play with my heart like this mommy

itzgreen4590: GIVE US DETAILS!!!

OrbitGamer: tell us one thing that happened. just one. Plsssss🙏

I smiled like the cryptid I was despite them not being able to see my face. "All I'll say is... plans have been made. I may or may not be attending a thing. I may or may not be wearing my helmet on camera. I may or may not be sitting across from a certain group of chaotic content creators this weekend."

Cue chat going full nuclear.

Chat EXPLODED

Lol_Legend69: HELMET ON WITH PEZZY IN THE ROOM????

GrizzyGoddess: WAIT ARE YOU ACTUALLY MEETING THEM IRL??

KarmaKix: IF YOU DON'T FLIRT WITH PEZZY I'M UNSUBBING

ChaosCultLeader: SHIP IT SHIP IT SHIP ITTTTTTTTT

I coughed dramatically. "Woah, woah, woah I don't know what y'all are talking about. Who said anything about Pezzy? I didn't say that. You said that..."

I killed a creeper in-game, then whispered into the mic, "But if he is there... I make no promises about behaving." I bursted out laughing at chat.

More screaming from chat.

Cosmo chose that moment to hop into my lap like the dramatic little timing demon she is. I turned the camera down slightly to show her lounging there like she owned the channel.

"Anyway," I said, petting her smug little head. "We're gaming today. Tomorrow I vanish into the ether for a bit. If I come back with a collab clip? Y'all better go feral on socials. That's all I ask. That is the only thing I ask, plus it will also benefit you because it will get me closer to our face reveal goal."

BoundlessBiker47: FERAL MODE LOADING

lol_Legend69: I'll be editing fan cams before the episode even drops

CouchChampion: don't fall in love on camera challenge (impossible)

I laughed so hard I accidentally walked off a cliff in-game and died. "And that's what I get for giving you all too much hope."

The rest of the stream was a mix of relaxed chaos and subtle energy of a meltdown. I tried so hard to keep the topic off Clooless, but chat kept pulling me back in. By the end, I'd teased just enough to fuel a hundred theories and at least three TikToks.

As I ended the stream, I leaned into the mic one last time.

"Remember," I whispered. "No face reveal until one mil. But this weekend? You will see the helmet. And maybe just maybe get some details of what's under the helmet. Also a little teaser for y'all I will only and I mean only be wearing the helmet when something is going on the internet so they might get to see my face."

I ended the stream right after saying that.I then sat back in my chair and screamed into my hands like any normal, stable adult would.

"Okay. Let's start prepping for tomorrow." I said to myself and Cosmo. I moved Cosmo off my lap and onto my chair before heading to my closet to figure out what to wear. I decide on a pair of slightly loose fitting pants and a baggy top(outfits above but darker). I don't want to look like I am trying too hard, but I also don't want to look like a hobo or like I just rolled right out of bed and fell into content creation by accident. Cosmo is sitting in my chair and is judging and watching me overthink every little thing.

I stood in front of the mirror, twisting at awkward angles. The clothes gave off chill confidence... but my posture screamed "awkward and about to meet her crush for the first time."

I tossed the outfit onto the dresser for the next morning, then grabbed my helmet and gave it a good wipe-down. If I was going to hide behind this thing for one of the biggest appearances of my career so far and for hours, it needed to be spotless. Famous people-level shiny.

And maybe, just maybe, I'd lift the visor during the episode if the energy was right. Just a little tease. Keep the internet guessing. Pezzy included.

Nope.

Stop.

Don't spiral.

I set the helmet down gently like it was a crown and flopped back onto my bed, arms splayed, eyes wide open. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I rolled over to check it.

A message from Puffer.

@Bigpuffer :

You still good for tomorrow? Just show up around 1:30. Chill vibes, we'll intro you and mess around a bit before recording. Pezzy's already annoying as hell about the helmet lmao.

I groaned, burying my face in my pillow. Of course he was.

Me:

Still good. And tell Pezzy to stay mad. The helmet's part of the brand. I don't break character that easily.

@Bigpuffer :

LMAO got it. He's lowkey excited tho.  I mean we all are but especially him.  Don't tell him I told you that.

I rolled onto my back, heart doing that annoying fluttery thing again.

Lowkey excited.

He was excited.

I was going to combust.

Cosmo meowed loudly and jumped onto my chest like a gremlin trying to keep me grounded.

"You're right," I muttered, petting her. "I need to chill. I got this. It's just a podcast. With four guys I've been watching for years. Who might be funny. And hot. And single. And one of them might make me lose my damn mind on camera."

She blinked slowly at me like she was giving me my last warning.

I sighed dramatically. "Okay, okay. I'll be normal. Normal-ish."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of nervous cleaning, too much overthinking, and a very poorly timed YouTube spiral of "iconic Clooless moments" which did not help my nerves at all. I forced myself to shut it down by 10 p.m., downed an entire bottle of water, and tucked Cosmo into her blanket nest beside me.

Tomorrow was game day.

Tomorrow, the helmet meets the Clooless boys.

And I have exactly one goal:

Be cool.

...Or at least be funny enough that if I do say something unhinged to Pezzy, it could be spun as a bit for the content.

Chapter Text

The morning of the podcast felt like waking up on the first day of school if school involved internet fame, helmet lore, and trying not to flirt with your parasocial crush in front of thousands of potential viewers.

I woke up before my alarm-classic anxiety move. Cosmo was already up staring at me from the corner of my bed. She let out a short meow before jumping down off my bed and making her way to the corner of my room to clink at her empty food dish on the floor. I drag myself out of bed and over to where I keep Cosmo's food, I lean down and pour some food in her dish but not before I give her, her morning pets. After tending to Cosmo I drag my body to the bathroom to run myself a shower. I let the warm water cleanse all my anxiety and worry away. After getting out of the shower I towel dried my hair and put the clothes I set out yesterday on. I then gave myself a pep talk in the mirror while brushing my teeth.

"I am calm. I am a controlled chaos. I'm not going to flirt with Pezzy like a simp on drugs. I am going to flirt with him like a professional content creator."

My reflection didn't look convinced one bit. But I shrugged it off. "Close enough I guess."

The fit looked even better in the morning light-clean, dark, and casual enough to pass as 'cool' and 'collected' without screaming. I tried on several outfits before settling on this one. I shoved chapstick, gum, wallet, phone and any other essentials into the pockets of my pants. I gave myself one last once over in the mirror before slipping into my steel toed boots.

As I exited my room I grabbed my keys from the table and looked towards where my helmet sat exactly where I left it the other night. I picked it up like it was fragile and stared at my own reflection in the shiny black visor a second too long. I walked out the door towards where my motorcycle was sitting in the driveway.

"This is it," I whispered to myself. "This is where your internet life starts to bleed into the real world. Don't mess it up."

I slipped the helmet onto my head and got on the bike. Almost forgetting how to breathe.

The ride over was hot, dry, and loud-just like my brain at the moment.

My bike growled under me, smooth and fast down familiar Austin roads. The wind whipped against my body, but it couldn't cool the heat or anxiety rising in my chest every time the GPS told me to take another turn. I thought about Pezzy's dumb captivating voice or the way Puffer said Pezzy was excited, that they all were excited. The words echoed in my mind and helmet like the thoughts just moved in rent-free.

I keep telling myself not to spiral, but my brain was already coming up with ideas about this podcast episode. Thinking of all the fanfictions that would come out of this. "Episode 37: Helmet Girl vs The Chaos Boys. Who'll come out on top?"

Every red light was a curse and a blessing. It gave me a moment to breathe, but also a moment to second guess every little thing. What if I came off as cringe? What if I didn't say anything funny? What if I accidentally forgot how to speak because Pezzy laughed?

Worse: What if I fucked this up?

"No," I told myself at a stoplight, gripping the handlebars tighter. "You're here to be cool, mysterious, and meme worthy. Not develop an actual legitimate crush on a guy with a camera I haven't even officially met."

But then I remembered that sideways smirk Pezzy always did when someone said something stupid-and how much I wanted to be the reason he did it today.

Dammit. I'm screwed.

When I pulled up in front of the studio, I could already feel the buzz in the air.

It was one of those small commercial warehouse spaces turned creative hub-graffiti-style logos on the wall, soundproofing foam on the windows. Looked a bit sketchy but not horror killer sketchy.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

@Bigpuffer:

Door's unlocked. Come on in when you're ready. We're just setting up. Everyone's being a menace per usual.

I shut off the bike, pulled off my gloves slowly, and gave myself exactly three seconds to panic behind the tinted visor.

Three.

Two.

One.

Helmet on. Swagger loaded. Chaos prepped. Insults and flirts prepped and loaded.

I took a deep breath, stepped off the bike, and walked toward the door.

Let the content begin.

The door creaked open as I pushed it in, stepping into a blast of cold air and the unmistakable smell of too many men in one room.

"Yo!" Puffer's voice called out from somewhere deeper in the studio. "She's here!"

I took slow calculated steps inside, the click of my boots echoing through the open space. Immediately, I was hit with bright LED panels, an intimidating wall of mics, and a couch that looked like it had seen too many food and drink spills. It felt exactly like stepping into a set I'd watched on YouTube a hundred times-except now it was real.

Puffer rounded the corner with that signature lopsided grin, a water bottle in one hand and a light layer of calm chaos in his energy.

"Helmet in person," he said, pointing. "I knew you were gonna commit to the bit."

I gave a little two-finger salute. "Brand integrity. Gotta keep the internet and y'all guessing."

From behind him, I heard a familiar voice. "Yo, no way. No actual way." Droid peeked around the corner like a gremlin, eyes wide as he took me in. "She actually pulled up in the damn helmet, bro. That's legendary."

"You say that like I haven't done entire Twitch collabs like this. Plus I would've pulled up in a helmet anyway because I rode my bike here." I said, stepping further in and allowing myself to relax a bit.

"That's different and I guess that's right," Droid said, eyes gleaming. "Now that you're here in the room. I feel like I should salute or bark or something."

"Please don't bark," Puffer muttered and I chuckled as Grizzy emerged from the kitchen area, chewing on something.

Grizzy took one look at me and snorted. "This is some vigilante shit. You look like you're about to beat the shit out of a corrupt gaming executive. I respect it."

I laughed through the helmet, trying to keep it cool despite the fact that I was standing in a room with people who'd accidentally become a huge part of my life through a screen all because of their jokes and games.

Then-the person I've been scared to meet entered the room. Pezzy, late as always, shoved the side door open with his side, a backpack slung across his shoulders.

"Yo, did y'all start without-"

He stopped mid-step.

His eyes met my helmet.

There was a beat of silence just long enough for my heart to dropkick my ribs before he broke into a wide, shit-eating grin.

"Ohhhh hell no. She brought the helmet."

I tilted my head, slow and dramatic. "Were you expecting something else or do you have something to say?"

He blinked, then mimicked my head tilt. "Nah. I'm just trying to figure out if you're actually real or if this is some elaborate Twitch fever dream."

"Maybe I'm AI," I said. "Generated by the content gods."

"Or maybe you're Batman," Droid added.

"Maybe I am the motherfucking Batman. Or your sleep paralysis demons telling you to wake the fuck up."

Puffer clapped his hands once. "Alright, alright. Let's get her mic'd up before you all spiral. We're recording in fifteen."

Grizzy motioned for me to follow him toward the couch setup. "You want anything before we start? Water? GSups? A reason to regret this?"

"Surprise me," I said, half joking, half terrified.

As I settled in on the couch, helmet still on, nerves slightly more stable. I could feel the energy in the room shifting from that awkward first-meeting vibe into something way more comfortable. The guys were exactly like they were online, maybe a bit more chaotic in person, but not in a way that would make me feel out of place. It just makes me want to keep up.

They mic'd me up, and while Puffer and Grizzy did a last-minute check on levels, Droid sat next to me and whispered, "If Pezzy flirts with you, I'm calling it for the content. Just saying."

"Oh, you think I won't flirt back?" I whispered.

He blinked. A little shocked. "You'd definitely flirt back now that I realize it."

Pezzy took the seat on the other side of me and glanced over. "So, mystery helmet girl are you actually gonna talk during the podcast, or are you just here to be our aesthetic?"

I turned slowly toward him, visor reflecting his stupid pretty face back at him.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Pezzy"

He choked on his own laugh as Puffer called out, "Alright! We're rolling in three, two-"

I sat up straighter, adjusted my mic, and leaned forward ever so slightly.

Let the chaos officially begin.

Chapter Text

"—one!" Puffer finishes saying.

A beat of silence passed, just long enough for everyone to realize the cameras were rolling and that this was real. I heard the familiar click of the recording indicator lighting up, and then Puffer launched into his usual intro with a grin that could only mean trouble.

"Welcome back to episode 37 of the Clooless Podcast, the only show where four grown men try not to say something that'll get us demonetized within the first five minutes. Today we have a very special guest joining us. She rode here on a motorcycle, looks like a Marvel character, and the internet has no idea what her face looks like. Give it up for MotorMeow."

There was exaggerated applause from Droid and Grizzy, while Pezzy smacked his hand on the armrest a few times like he was playing a drum solo. I gave a small nod and threw up a peace sign like some kind of silent anime character. Chat was gonna eat this up.

"Thanks for having me," I said, voice clear through the mic. "I'm just here to cause problems and maybe throw hands with y'all if necessary."

"That is exactly what we're looking for in a guest," Droid said. "And also maybe a little trauma bonding. Or threats. Those work too."

Pezzy leaned forward slightly, looking at me from the side with that stupid, charming half-smirk. "So how long are you gonna keep the helmet on? Or is this like... a Mandalorian situation where if you take it off, you instantly combust?"

"It's maybe a little bit of that," I said, turning my helmet toward him slowly, "and a little bit of if the internet sees my face, I lose half my mysterious aura and like 80% of my power."

"She does have a point," Grizzy said. "You drop the face reveal too early and suddenly people forget you're funny like what has happened to a few others already. Then they just wanna know if you've got winged eyeliner or not in the end."

"Exactly," I replied. "Keep 'em guessing. They tune in for the mystery, stay for the unhinged commentary. Plus faceless people are more funny like me and Swagger. And a lot of backlash happens when you face reveal."

Droid pulled out his phone. "Okay but real talk, what's the over-under on a fan cam dropping before this podcast even ends?"

"Oh, they're already editing," I said without missing a beat. "'Helmet Girl x Chaos Boys' is already trending on some weird side of TikTok. I can feel it in my bones."

Pezzy snorted. "They better title it something cool like 'The Motorcycle Menace' or 'Helmeted Heartbreaker.'"

I tilted my head toward him. "What, you applying for a branding job now? Or are you just that confident I'm gonna steal the spotlight?"

He blinked. "Nah, just... trying to figure out how someone in full riot gear still manages to roast me."

"I've got layers," I said. "And trauma. Most of it from childhood, the rest from being a woman on the internet."

There was a pause—then everyone burst into laughter.

"Yo she's not wrong," Puffer chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, let's get into the questions before this devolves into Pezzy getting ratio'd real time."

"Already happening," Droid muttered, pretending to take notes on his phone.

As the podcast rolled on, the energy just clicked. I found myself leaning back, half-lounging between Pezzy and Droid, throwing out one-liners that even made Grizzy pause and go, "Yo, that was good." They asked about my bike, my content, the helmet lore, and somehow—within twenty minutes—we were playing a game where they tried to guess what my real name was.

Pezzy was on a streak of the worst guesses imaginable.

"Okay okay, final guess," he said, squinting like he was trying to read through the visor. "You're totally a... Brittany."

"A fucking Brittney!? Really?" I exclaimed.

Droid let out an actual gag. "Bro. Brittany?! You think she rode here in steel-toed boots and that helmet and her name is Brittany?!"

"Hey, I know a tough Brittany," Grizzy defended. "But yeah, nah, that ain't it."

I put my hand to my heart dramatically. "Wow. I'm insulted."

"Wait, is that a no or is it reverse psychology?" Pezzy leaned closer. "You do look like a Brittany if Brittany had a secret villain arc."

"The fuck? You're projecting," I said calmly. "Also, you're giving off major Ryan energy."

"I—what—" He flailed slightly. "What does that even mean?!"

"Exactly," I said. "Sit with that."

The boys erupted into laughter.

"Chat put your guess on my name down in the comments. I need some funny ass names that y'all think I would be. Also use code 'Cloo' at checkout to get yourselves some BBL." I said lifting up the container of BBL.

By the time the recording wrapped, I'd lost count of how many bits we spiraled into. My cheeks hurt from grinning inside my helmet, and my voice was just on the edge of hoarse from laughing so hard. Even Cosmo would've given me a proud little meow.

Puffer did the outro, thanking me for coming on and hinting at a possible motorcycle vlog collab—which was news to me, but also something I absolutely didn't hate the sound of.

As we wrapped and began to power down cameras and mics, Pezzy leaned back on the couch, looking at me sideways.

"Real talk," he said, quieter now. "You were cool as hell. Glad you came."

I blinked and smiled behind the visor. Then chuckled and nodded. "Same. Honestly? I was kinda nervous."

He raised a brow. "You? Nervous?"

"Terrified," I admitted. "But I was also excited. For this. For y'all."

He smiled again—less smirk, more real this time. "Well... if this turns into a thing, just know I fully support Helmet Girl taking over the podcast."

My heart did a little somersault. I pointed at him. "Awwww." I chuckled. "You're just trying to make the fan cams worse."

"Absolutely," he grinned.

And god help me—I loved it.

The cameras clicked off with a soft whine and the overhead lights dimmed from full-blast YouTube glow to a much softer ambiance. Someone—probably Grizzy—immediately flopped backward onto the couch with a groan.

"That was actually one of the funniest episodes we've done," Puffer said, stretching his arms above his head. "Y'all were unhinged."

"I'm sweating under this hoodie and that podcast gave me trust issues," Droid muttered, already done with a bottle of GSups.

I sat still for a second, helmet still on, letting the silence settle.

I'd made it. I survived the chaos. I held my own.

But also?

I was absolutely melting under the helmet. I reached up to the back of my neck and whipped the sweat that was soaking my skin and hair, then whipping my hand on my pants.

Pezzy leaned forward and glanced over at me. "Be honest," he said with a smirk. "How hot is it under that helmet right now? On a scale of one to roasted turkey."

I groaned. "Full rotisserie. I am cooked. Crispy. Done."

"Yeah no, you're a war criminal if you keep that thing on any longer," Grizzy said from his position still spread out on the seat. "You're allowed to breathe now, bro."

I hesitated, taking a deep breath before lifting my hands up to the sides of the helmet.

"Alright," I said dramatically, "but if any of you clip this and post it, I swear to god I'll edit you into a My Little Pony fanfic and tag you in it all over twitter."

Everyone perked up.

Pezzy's eyes widened. "Wait—are you actually gonna take it off?"

I glanced around, mock-serious. "We off the record?"

Puffer raised both hands. "Swear on Clooless. This is safe zone content. No cameras, no clips."

I nodded once, slow and solemn. "Alright then. Just remember... I'm hot. This is giving that one MW 2 narrative clip where Soap asks Ghost to take off the mask and show his face."

Droid nearly choked. "Bro what?"

"I said—" I lifted the helmet slowly, feeling my hair cling to my face and neck from heat and adrenaline, "—what I said, I'm hot. And I'm not just talking about temperature."

I pulled the helmet free with a soft hiss of air and set it on my knee, shaking my hair loose and running a hand through it as I blinked in the cooler air.

And for a second... silence.

Just stunned, goofy expressions.

Grizzy let out a low whistle.

Droid dramatically fell backward onto the carpet like he'd been sniped. "Oh no. She is hot. Chat was right. We're doomed."

Puffer burst out laughing. "Bro you cannot say that like you didn't know. You think someone with that much personality wasn't gonna be cute?"

Pezzy didn't say anything right away. Just stared a second too long. His eyes flicked from my now-visible face to my slightly smug expression, and he blinked like his brain had blue-screened.

"Uh... yep," he finally said, voice cracking slightly. "This is definitely worse for the fan cams."

I raised a brow, grinning. "You okay there, Pezzy?"

He looked away quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah I just—y'know—helmet hair's a good look on you."

I laughed loudly. "You're struggling, huh?"

He pointed at me, flustered. "I wasn't. But now I am."

Droid rolled over on the floor. "This is gonna fuel Twitter for like a month."

"Oh absolutely," Grizzy said. "Somebody's already sketching art of this in real time. I can feel it in my bones."

I leaned back against the couch, finally letting myself relax fully now that the pressure was off and the helmet was off too.

"Don't worry," I said with a smirk. "Helmet's going back on before I ride home. Internet still doesn't get this. Just you boys."

Pezzy looked over at me again, this time with a softer smile, something a little more real. "Kinda glad we get it first."

And dammit.

There went my heart again.

Cosmo would be judging me so hard right now.

Chapter Text

The episode dropped at exactly 3:00 p.m. the next day.

I wasn't even awake when it premiered—at least not in the functional, caffeinated sense. Cosmo was stretched across my legs like a furry paperweight while I scrolled aimlessly on my phone, not even realizing what time it was until my notifications started going feral.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

The numbers were unholy.

Twitter? 99+ notifications.

Instagram? 37 DMs and a comment section that looked like it'd been possessed.

TikTok? I couldn't even open the app without it glitching from the sheer number of tags.

I blinked. Sat up slowly. Cosmo meowed like she knew.

"Oh no," I whispered, dread and delight swirling in my chest. "It dropped."

My mod group chat was already in full DEFCON 1 meltdown:

ModQueenLana :

WE ARE NOT OKAY

WE NEED MORE MODS

THIS IS A CONTENT FIRESTORM

PixelRider_42 :

#HelmetGirl is trending

AND

PEZZYFANGIRLS ARE AT WAR WITH YOUR STANS

I REPEAT

A STAN WAR IS HAPPENING

JustMuffin :

"RYAN ENERGY" IS A QUOTE ON MERCH ALREADY

YOU BROKE THE SIMPS

YOU BROKE THEM 😭😭😭

I launched Twitter.

Trending tab:

#HelmetGirl

#Episode37

#RyanEnergy

#MotorMeow x Clooless

#"She Said Sit With That" (39.4k posts and climbing)

One tweet read:

@chaoscatlady

"Keep the helmet on, keep the power"

She's literally what catgirls were trying to become

Another:

@feralgoblinqueen

she didn't even take off the helmet and I've already imagined our wedding AND our divorce

And then there were the fan cams.

So. Many. Fan cams.

Some were slow-mo edits of Pezzy's dumb lovestruck expressions. One used "Boys a Liar Pt. 2" over the moment I turned my visor toward him after the "Brittany" guess. Someone else made a high-effort anime-style intro sequence with me as the "helmeted protagonist" and the boys as my "chaotic squad."

TikTok was equally unhinged.

@motorchaos

Pezzy: "You gonna keep the helmet on forever?"

Her: "Wouldn't you like to know, Pezzy."

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ me watching this knowing she's gonna ruin me

@helmetfanclub  (yes, this was real now):

She's faceless.

She's fearless.

She's flirting.

And I'm losing my MIND.

The comments were a lawless wasteland:

@sk8rcrushgirl :

not her making Pezzy stutter with only voice and helmet aura

@gamercryptid :

WHO IS SHE

WHAT IS HER FACE

WHY AM I IN LOVE

@actualrat :

the internet is down bad for a voice, vibes, and violent flirting

I scrolled through tags on Tiktok. There was already a theory video dissecting the sound of my voice when I said, "I'm just here to cause problems." Apparently, I sounded like someone's childhood bully and future wife at the same time.

Back on Twitter, someone had posted a blurry side-by-side of me in the podcast and Ghost from Modern Warfare, captioned:

"When will men understand that it's not the face... it's the menace behind the mask."

#HelmetGirlSweep

Meanwhile, Puffer DM'd me:

@Bigpuffer :

congrats on breaking the internet and the boys

also Pezzy is still being suspiciously quiet

he's either writing poetry or recovering

Me:

good. he deserves this.

I told y'all I'm hot—he just got to find out first 😌

@Bigpuffer :

yeah I'm not gonna lie

the helmet reveal?

iconic.

man almost short-circuited

Still grinning, I tossed my phone onto the bed and collapsed backward, Cosmo stretching lazily against my side like she was proud of me for causing an internet-wide meltdown.

The notifications were still pouring in. Fan edits. TikToks. Voice compilations. Clips of Pezzy looking like he'd caught feelings in 0.3 seconds flat. Twitter was feral, and Discord wasn't far behind.

That's when I saw the green dot next to his name.

"Pezzy is online."

Perfect.

I clicked his name and started typing.

Me:

so

u still emotionally recovering

or did i leave you permanently stunned

Pezzy :

i've been staring at a wall for 45 minutes

i haven't known peace since the helmet came off

Me:

lmao

you knew i was hot

you just didn't know how hot

consider it a public service

Pezzy :

i'm filing for damages

and therapy

and maybe a playlist for the way you said "sit with that"

I laughed out loud, biting my lip before replying. And then—an idea hit me. Spontaneous. Chaotic. Very on brand.

Me:

you free tomorrow night?

Pezzy :

define "free"

emotionally? spiritually? financially?

Me:

free as in

bring your bike

and your best on-stream banter

i'm doing a helmet-cam night ride stream

full setup

moonlight, chaos, Austin roads

and i figured it might be fun to have you tag along

on your own bike

live

The typing bubble popped up instantly.

Pezzy :

wait

WAIT

are you saying

you want us to stream a night ride together

like a full-on

bike-to-bike flirting-under-streetlights scenario?

Me:

exactly

two helmets

two mics

one stream

chat gets to witness our traffic-induced banter and occasional existential screaming

and you gotta keep up

Pezzy :

okay first of all rude

second of all

this might be the sexiest concept you've ever typed

Me:

good

then get your helmet polished and your tires checked

stream goes live tomorrow 10PM

i'll send you a link to patch into the audio

chat's gonna lose their damn minds

Pezzy :

oh they absolutely will

this is gonna spawn new levels of thirst content

someone's gonna create edits of us racing while music blares in the background

Me:

honestly?

i hope they do

i live for the drama

Pezzy :

do i need to prep any lines

or should i just let the chaos unfold naturally

Me:

come armed with comebacks

but the chaos should be mostly come naturally

god this is gonna be so chaotic

Pezzy :

you caused this

I leaned back, laughing to myself, already mentally reviewing my helmet mic settings and camera angles. Tomorrow night was going to be asphalt, neon signs, city wind, and open comms. And no face reveals.

Just two bikes.

Two streamers.

One unfiltered, unscripted flirt-fest disguised as a night ride.

And chat?

Chat was absolutely not ready.

Let the simping begin.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day passed by in a breeze. A bit nervous and shocked I actually asked him to go on a night riding stream with me. 

My notifications were still going absolutely ballistic, and almost every other DM was some fan asking “helmet reveal when?” or “yall are either gonna date or race and im here for both.”

The next day I spent most of the day prepping for the stream. Making sure my GoPro battery was charged, helmet mic test runs, and making sure my helmet would link properly to Pezzy and the stream. Double checking my twitch to make sure it would run properly and adding the ever necessary words “helmet cam: NO FACE REVEAL” to my start up screen and to the description, just so chat wouldn’t lose their minds… more than they already had.

By the time 9:17 PM rolled around I already had everything all set up and ready to start streaming. I zipped up my armored jacket, laced my boots up tight, clipped my gloves to my belt loop, and Cosmo was watching me from my bed like she was my personal judgemental, smug producer.

“You are so lucky you are cute.” I muttered, giving her treats and pets. “Because you are so judging my fits like it’s Fashion Week.”

She purred and meowed like she agreed.

The second I stepped into the garage and the helmet clicked into place, everything snapped into focus. Street lights outside buzzed softly. My bike stood ready, matte black with violet underglow already humming to life beneath it.

9:42 PM: I went live.

“Yo,” I said into the mic, my voice crackling over the helmet audio. “What’s up, degenerates. Hope you’re ready for questionable decision-making under the Texas sky, because I’ve got a guest joining me tonight.”

Chat was already flying:

✨HELMET GIRL SUPREMACY

PEZZY COLLAAAAAB LET’S GO

SOMEBODY SCREENSHOT EVERYTHING

#BIKERLORE

she’s gonna flirt and crash i can FEEL it

A few minutes later, the soft rumble of another engine rolled up beside me. I turned my head, helmet cam catching the exact moment Pezzy pulled in next to me, straddling a bright white sportbike that looked like it had no business being that clean. His helmet was also white to match his bike, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I felt the smug energy.

“Oh look,” I said into the mic with a teasing tone. “It’s the man, the myth, the victim of the world’s most violent flirtation campaign.”

Pezzy’s voice came through crystal clear on the dual audio line.

“Hey, I survived a podcast. I can survive a night ride with you. Probably.”

Chat lost it.

PROBABLY??? 💀

bro is so cooked already

peep the nervous throttle rev lmao

HE CAME IN MATCHING VIBES STOPPPPP

“You ready, Romeo?” I asked, kicking my bike into gear. “Hope your mic’s good. Don’t want chat missing your screams when I lose you at a red light.”

“Oh, it’s on,” Pezzy replied, revving back at me. “Let’s ride, you menace.”

And with that, we peeled out of the neighborhood and into the Austin streets, tires humming against the pavement, my underglow reflecting off the slick asphalt like something out of a cyberpunk fever dream.

The first ten minutes were smooth. Jokes flew. Pezzy kept pace. Chat spammed “🚨flirt alert🚨” every time one of us said something borderline suggestive.

Then he said:

“Yo, how do you still look intimidating with your turn signal blinking? That’s some villainous talent.”

And I answered:

“Because even when I follow the rules… it’s only so I can break your expectations later.”

He choked on a laugh.

THAT WAS SO SMOOTH I FELL OFF MY COUCH

she’s SPITTING BARS

nah she’s actually flirting at 70 mph

🚨HORNINESS UNDER HELMET ACTIVATE

We took the back roads after that—less traffic, more open road. I led for a while, then waved Pezzy ahead, and the stream caught this perfect cinematic shot of his taillights stretching out beneath the power lines like some teen drama finale. I could already imagine the fan cam edits.

Halfway through, we pulled into a scenic overlook just to reset cameras and stretch. The view of the city glittered below us like the whole world was watching.

“You good?” I asked, leaning against my bike, visor tilted toward him.

“Yeah,” he said, helmet still on but his voice softer now. “Honestly, this might be the most fun I’ve had on stream. And like… off stream too.”

I didn’t say anything right away. Just let the moment stretch out between us.

“Are you saying I’m better company than your boys?” I said slightly teasingly.

Then I turned to chat.

“Alright, chat,” I said, fingers resting on my throttle. “We’re headed back. And if Pezzy loses me, that’s on him. Last one back has to read Wattpad fanfiction on stream.”

“You’re on,” he said.

And we kicked off again into the night—two bikes, two hearts pounding under layers of leather and LED, with the city watching and chat absolutely losing its collective singular brain cell.

No face reveals.

Just flirtation, adrenaline, and the kind of chaos you don’t script.

And yeah…

He kept up. Barely.

We rolled back into my driveway just before midnight; engines low, tires quiet, but hearts still doing backflips in our chests, like we’d just outrun cops instead of each other and traffic lights.

Chat was still going feral.

I AM SWEATING

I SHIP IT SOO HARD

love how he followed her the entire ride like a lost puppy

“LAST ONE BACK READS WATTPAD” IM SCREAMING!!!

I parked first, kicking my stand down and leaning back against my bike waiting for him to park, my chest rising and falling under the weight of the post ride adrenaline. Pezzy pulled in right beside me, his bike humming softly before going quiet as he turned it off.

“You’re lucky you didn’t stall at that one light,” I said into the mic. “Chat saw that little wobble.”

“I was distracted!”  he shot back. “Someone said something about ‘breaking expectations,’ and my brain stopped functioning okay.”

Chat exploded.

NOT HIM ADMITTING IT

he couldve had death by FLIRTATION ON A HEADSTONE!!!

UNHINGED thats what they are

I muted us for a second, switching to my BRB overlay so stream didn’t catch anything too identifiable about the house, location, or my address.

I stood up straight, stretching after leaning on the side of the bike. I popped open my visor just enough to breathe in cool, fresh air.

“God,” I said through the private comms, “I love riding but holy hell that helmet’s a sauna in the summer.”

“Yeah, I’m basically a microwaved popsicle in here,” Pezzy groaned, shutting his engine off. “Stream’s gonna think we’re cool and mysterious when in reality we’re just sweaty and half-dehydrated.”

“That’s the secret,” I smirked, unclipping my gloves. “Being cool is just dramatic suffering with good lighting.”

We both pulled our helmets off at the same time—but only in the safe shadows of my garage, away from stream, away from the curious eyes of the internet.

His hair was slightly flattened, cheeks flushed, and he was smiling like an idiot. Like he’d just won something he didn’t know he was competing for.

“You look like someone who just got away with something,” I said.

“I rode away with something,” he corrected, gesturing between us. “This was fun. Actually fun. And you’re—kinda insane, but in the best way.”

I raised a brow, smirking as I grabbed a bottle of water from the side fridge in the garage and tossed him one.

“You gonna survive chat’s edits of this?”

He caught the bottle with one hand. “No. I’m not. I’ve already accepted I’m gonna be fan-cammed to hell.”

“Oh, they’re already making ship names,” I said. “I saw one called ‘Sodameow’ in the comments.”

“‘Sodameow’?! What is that, a Pokémon move?!”

I laughed so hard I doubled over. “You have no idea what you’ve walked into.”

He sipped his water and leaned casually against the wall, watching me like I was a fire he couldn’t look away from.

“I do now,” he said. “And I’m not mad about it.”

I paused, a little warmth curling in my chest. “You know this might become a thing, right? You… me… night rides. Chat’s already writing the lore and fanfiction.”

He grinned, boyish and wicked. “So what? Let them write it. Long as I get to keep riding with you.”

And god help me.

I really liked the sound of that.

“Anyways you wanna come in chats probably getting restless. We could go to my office and play some games with chat or something, unless you have somewhere else you have to be?”

“Yeah I’ll come in. Got nothing better to be doing.”

Meanwhile, back on stream:

WHERE DID THEY GO?

THIS WILL BE ENDING TOO SOON😢😢😢

SODAMEOW NATION RISE

imagine them unhelmeting at the same time… the power

we didn’t get a face reveal but we got ✨FEELINGS✨

night ride 2 when? Sign me upp

Chapter Text

I shut the garage door behind us, flipping the deadbolt with a soft clunk that echoed way louder than it should’ve in my suddenly very quiet head. Cosmo was waiting in the hallway like a little gremlin security guard, tail flicking and judging Pezzy immediately.

“She’s the real boss,” I warned him, gesturing at her. “If she doesn’t like you, you’re canceled. However, you should be fine as long as you don’t smell too much like Sly.”

Pezzy crouched down, giving Cosmo a polite scratch behind the ear. She let it happen—for two whole seconds—before dramatically trotting off like royalty.

“Okay, no claws. I think I passed the vibe check.”

“Barely,” I smirked, leading him upstairs to my streaming office.

The second we stepped inside, it hit us both: RGB glow, soft hum of the PC still running, the faint scent of lavender from my desk candle, and… Twitch chat, still going nuclear on the BRB screen.

its been 20 minutes😫😡

I HAVE WRINKLES NOW

IF YOU’RE NOT BACK IN 2 IM FIGHTING GOD

they better be making out or planning something

I SWEAR IF THEY JUST END STREAM AFTER WE WAITED FOR 20 MINS IMA HAVE A CRASH OUT!!!!🤬🤬

I slid into my chair, switched my stream to my computer and unmuted.

“Alright alright alright, calm down you gremlins,” I said as I pulled up the game overlay on stream so they could see what I was doing. Then I angled the camera towards Pezzy’s seat and opened it so they’d be able to see him, since I wasn’t wearing my helmet. “We’re back. Bikes are parked. Helmets are off—mine off camera, before you start frothing and we figured we’d chill, play something dumb, maybe take turns playing Uno, who knows?”

Pezzy flopped dramatically into the chair next to me and immediately reached for the cat ear headphones hanging on the peg beside the monitor. He slipped them on like it was a ceremony.

“I’m ready to be emotionally obliterated in 4K,” he said.

OH MY GOD THE EARS

HE’S IN HER GAMER CAVE

THE LORE IS TOO STRONG

sodameow just became CANONNNNN

he looks like he’d simp for +4 cards and honestly i respect it

I booted up Uno and the jokes and mocking comments started flying immediately as we took turns playing online Uno. Chat was unhinged. Pezzy kept calling me a menace every time I dropped a draw four on the random person, and I kept pretending to be shocked and innocent even as I switched colors with full malice in my soul because I knew they didn’t have that color.

After a few rounds, I happened to glance up at my sub counter for YouTube and did a full-on double take.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I muttered, squinting at the number. “Hold up. Chat… did y’all seriously—?”

👀

what? we didn’t do anything 😇

i didn’t sub on my alt accounts for no reason babe

FACE. REVEAL. FACE. REVEAL.

y’all better not blue ball us again

I dragged the counter onto the main screen.

SUB GOAL: 100% MET

The little bar was maxed out. Glowing. Sparkling. Mocking me.

Pezzy leaned over. “Is that the face reveal goal?”

“It is,” I said flatly.

“You’re screwed,” he grinned.

“Chat,” I said into the mic, staring at the camera. “Y’all are actual demons. I said no face reveal, I titled the stream ‘NO FACE REVEAL,’ and what do you do? You meet the face reveal goal anyway. You're feral.”

FERAL AND PROUD

YOU CANT FIGHT DESTINY

YOU SAID IF WE HIT IT

time to deliver MOTHER

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. Pezzy watched me, smirking like he’d just watched karma cash in on me.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” I muttered. “You’re all insane. But fine.”

Chat went wild.

NO WAY

ACTUALLY???

I’M NOT READY

SODAMEOW IS REALER THAN MY GPA

I switched the face cam facing Pezzy to my BRB screen and muted. I dragged my hands down my face and let out a heavy sigh. I switched my Twitch title to FACE REVEAL!!! And then pulled Twitter up and posted.  

YouTube sub goal has been hit. Thank you all for 1 million subscribers!! Currently live on Twitch where FACE REVEAL will happen. A face reveal video on YouTube will also be posted later. Tune in and thank you again!

I stood up and disappeared behind my bathroom door, just for a moment. Fixed my hair. Swiped on a bit of colored lip balm. Took one deep breath. Before sitting back down and adjusting my camera where it will get both me and Pezzy in the frame. My viewer count skyrocketed after posting the announcement.

“You good?” Pezzy asked softly as Cosmo came and rubbed against my leg.

“Yeah. I’m good, nervous, but good.” I picked Cosmo up before turning my camera back on.

I saw my face appear on stream and unmuted as I held Cosmo on my lap.

There I was.

Cosmo in my lap. Helmet off. Hair tousled. Eyes a little tired but sparkling with that post ride high. Smirking just a little.

Chat absolutely detonated.

MOMMY HAS ARRIVED

SHE’S REAL SHE’S HOT SHE’S ME

HOLY SHIT I’M WET🥵

I KNEW SHE WAS FINE BUT NOT THAT FINE

THIS STREAM JUST BECAME LEGENDARY

Pezzy just blinked beside me, like his brain had short-circuited again.

“You good?” I asked, laughing.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes wide. “But… now they’re gonna make even more edits.”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning into the mic. “And now they have ammo. My face, you currently blushing. No hidden emotions.”

SHE’S GIGGLINGGGGGG

i’m clipping this

MARRIAGE SPEEDRUN??

I grinned.

“Well,” I said, folding my arms like I’d just dropped a plot twist in a show finale. “You wanted a reveal. Now you got it. No filters. No masks. Just me. Thank you all for getting me to one million on Youtube. Now I have to figure out something to do once I hit one million on Insta because we’re almost there and I said I’d do something.”

I smiled and looked towards Pezzy. “Any ideas on what I could do?”

“Do some sort of stream like our truth or drink but I bet ya the boys would be more than happy to do another video, stream with you.” Pezzy responds.

“Yeah, that’d be fun. Would y’all want us to do something like that?” I asked chat. Our Uno game long forgotten.

“Also this doesn’t mean I’ll start doing face cam streams everytime. I’ll probably do something like what Smii7y does, but I’ll do occasional face cam streams and you’ll see my face in friends' videos.” 

Was this a mistake?

Definitely not.

Chapter Text

Two days later.

Somehow, hitting a million YouTube subscribers didn’t prepare me for what it felt like to hit one million on Instagram less than 48 hours later.

Between fan cams, helmet edits, memes, reaction videos, and people screaming “MOMMY” under every post I made, my DMs were a war zone, my mentions were cursed, and my phone felt like it vibrated every six seconds.

But true to my word, I was gonna stream something ridiculous to celebrate.

So naturally, I invited chaos into my living room.

Pezzy, Grizzy, Puffer, and Droid were all here. Pezzy was already curled up on one end of the couch like he lived there. Puffer brought way too much liquor. Grizzy came with snacks. Droid brought card drinking games. 

I had the stream set up with two wide-angle cams: one capturing the couch and coffee table, and the other pointed toward the kitchen to switch to when people needed “hydration breaks” or, more likely, to run away from answering a spicy question.

The Twitch title?

1 MIL INSTAGRAM SPECIAL: HYDRATING GAMES WITH THE LUNATICS 😈🍻

I clicked "Start Streaming."

The second we were live, chat went rabid.

THE BOYS ARE IN THE LIVING ROOM

SHE’S USING A FACE CAM AGAIN I’M ASCENDING

PEZZY’S ALREADY LOOKING COMFORTABLE ASF

THIS IS ABOUT TO BE A MENACE TO SOCIETY STREAM

1 MIL ON INSTA??? LEGENDDDDDDDD

“Alright chat,” I said, gesturing to the disaster lineup on my couch, “You asked, and now you get to suffer with us. Welcome to the one million Insta stream, where I have fully surrendered to peer pressure and let these gremlins into my house. Say hi, degenerates.”

“Hi, degenerates,” Droid said automatically, raising his GSups bottle with a grin.

“I brought alcohol and trauma,” Puffer added.

Pezzy leaned closer to the center of the frame. “The main reason I’m here is to make sure she doesn’t start absolutely destroying us with roasts.”

“She’s absolutely gonna do that,” Grizzy said around a handful of chips.

“I am the roast,” I said, winking at the camera.

OH THIS STREAM IS GONNA BE UNHINGED

THE ENERGY IS ALREADY ✨UNSTABLE✨

1MIL INSTA STREAM MORE LIKE 1MIL IQ LOSS STREAM

someone take away their drinks before they reveal government secrets

“Okay chat we are starting with never have I ever so y’all will get to ask us stuff and if we’ve done it we have to take a drink of the alcohol of our choice. We will be doing other games which will get an introduction and how it works before we play.”

“Never have I ever… rage quit a game on stream and pretended it was internet lag,” Puffer read off chat.

I sipped my drink. So did Pezzy and Grizzy. Droid yelled, “I REGRET NOTHING,” and downed a mouth full.

“Lying to chat builds character,” I said.

Chat responded:

SHE’S SO REAL FOR THAT

I KNEW IT WASN’T LAG

pezzys face rn 😭😭😭

We played ‘Never Have I Ever’ for 45 minutes before switching games.

Then came ‘Who’s Most Likely To,’

“Again chat you guys ask the question we decide who is most likely to do whatever it is and whoever it ends up being has to take a shot.”

chat did not hold back.

“Alright, this one’s from a dono,” I read, smirking. “Who’s most likely to get arrested during a night ride?”

Everyone pointed at me immediately.

“What the hell?!”

“You flirt with traffic violations,” Pezzy said.

“She’s right, though,” Puffer added. “She looks like she’d get pulled over and somehow convince the cop she was the speed limit.”

I shrugged, taking a shot of vodka. “What can I say? I’m persuasive and hot.”

After another 45 minutes we ended switching to ‘Truth or Drink.’ I explained the rules. We ended up deciding to only answer dono’s and tts to have less questions.

The tts read out “Do you actually like Pezzy, or is this just stream chemistry?”

The room erupted.

Grizzy literally fell off the couch. Droid made the most exaggerated gasp sound imaginable. Puffer screamed, “Y’ALL ARE EVIL,” at the camera.

Pezzy froze like someone unplugged him.

I just stared at the question on screen and laughed. “I expected it to come up but, y’all are bold. You want the tea and the glass it’s served in.”

Chat flooded.

DON’T YOU DARE DRINK

ANSWER. ANSWER. ANSWER.

we’re holding your sub button hostage

THE LORE IS PLOT-CRITICAL

I took a long sip of my drink, stared right at the camera and smirked, before I said, “Yeah. I like him.”

The room fell silent for a beat.

Then Pezzy choked on his drink.

“Wait, what? You’re… are you being serious or are you just—?”

I looked at him, smirked. “What do you think, Romeo?”

Chat lost it.

I’M SCREAMING

SODAMEOW ENDGAME

SHE SAID IT CASUALLY TOO??? ICONIC

I NEED THEM TO KISS RN

Pezzy blinked, cheeks pink. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

“You’ve had days,” Droid said, dying laughing. “You are so cooked, bro.”

The rest of the stream was a fever dream of chaotic games, unhinged donations, and memes getting born live on camera.

By the end of it, we were slumped on the couch, laughing too hard to breathe. Cosmo had migrated into Pezzy’s lap and was asleep like she now fully claimed him.

I leaned into the mic one last time.

“Alright, chat. This stream’s been insane. You hit 1 million with me, you made me admit feelings on camera, and you’ve probably already turned all this into reaction TikToks. I love you all, but if you clip the part where I said I like him and add slow music, I will find you.”

too late

there’s already three versions with The Neighborhood playing

you’re welcome <3

MOTHER WENT SOFT AND WE LOVE HER FOR IT

“Whatever,” I said with a grin. “See you degenerates on the next stream. Motormeow and Clooless out.”

I ended stream with laughter still echoing around the room.

Was this chaos? Yes.

A mistake? Nope.

The moment I clicked ‘End Stream,’ the room fell into this warm, low buzz—the kind that only happens after hours of laughing too hard and drinking just enough to let your guard slip.

Grizzy stretched with a groan and stood up first. “Aight. That was chaos. I’m stealing snacks and then I’m out.”

“Same,” Puffer said, already gathering up bottles and clearing empties like he was trying to qualify for a Good Guest badge. “That last shot hit way harder than expected.”

Droid grabbed his stuff and looked around. “Good stream. Good food. Good vibes. 10/10 would emotionally suffer again.”

We did the quick round of hugs, daps, and chaotic last-minute chatter as they filtered out the door one by one. Grizzy yelled something about Taco Bell from the driveway. Puffer told Pezzy not to do anything he ‘wouldn’t clip for TikTok.’ Droid winked and whispered “Sodameow forever” as he left.

And then the door shut.

Silence.

Well, almost.

Cosmo was still asleep in Pezzy’s lap, completely knocked out like she owned him. And maybe she did. He hadn’t tried to move her once.

The lights were soft now—just a few LED strips still on, casting purple and gold shadows across the living room. My heart was still racing, even though the chaos was over. Or maybe because of what was left now that it was quiet.

Me. Him. And… that thing I’d said. Out loud. On camera.

“You’re really not gonna pretend you were joking, huh?” he asked suddenly, voice low but not teasing this time. It was honest. Searching.

I turned to look at him, my knees folded under me on the couch. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

He met my eyes and didn’t look away.

“No,” he said after a beat. “But I didn’t think you’d actually say it. Not like that.”

“I figured if I didn’t, chat would have sent a drone strike,” I joked—sort of—but the tension in my chest didn’t laugh.

Pezzy scratched behind Cosmo’s ear gently, like he needed to keep his hands busy. “You really meant it?”

I nodded, quieter this time. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

That silence came back. Not awkward, but weighted. Full of things unsaid.

Pezzy finally shifted Cosmo carefully to the side and turned fully toward me. His face was a little flushed—maybe from the drinks, maybe not.

“I meant all of it too,” he said, voice soft like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to say it.

And that?

That hit harder than any fan edit.

“Oh,” I breathed. “Cool. I mean—cool in a good way. Not like cool-cool, like cold—but like—”

“You’re rambling,” he said with a half-smile.

“Shut up.”

“I’m not complaining,” he added. “It’s cute.”

I rolled my eyes, half-laughing and fully blushing. My heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of my ribs.

I stood up walking towards him before leaning down over him. Pausing, hesitating, before fully leaning in, closing the gap, and connecting our lips to one another.

Soft and sure and a little bit buzzed, but absolutely real. Not for stream. Not for chat. Not for clips.

Just for us.

It wasn’t a dramatic kiss. There were no fireworks. No epic soundtrack.

Just the low hum of the LEDs. The lingering taste of alcohol. His hand brushing my jaw, gentle like I was something worth holding carefully.

When we finally broke apart, I leaned my forehead against his and whispered, “So… I guess chat was right.”

“They’re gonna be insufferable when they find out,” he whispered back.

I laughed, and so did he. I stood up straight, standing right in front of him.

And for once, I didn’t care what the internet would say.

Because in that moment, under the glow of fading RGB and the weight of our own heartbeat rhythm, it was just us.

No helmets.

No cameras.

No lore.

Just something real.

And maybe—maybe—the start of something even better.

Chapter Text

Pezzy leaned back against the couch, head tilted slightly as he looked at me where I sat on the armchair perpendicular to the couch he sat on. "You know," he said after a moment, voice quieter than before, "I don't even know your real name."

I blinked. "Yeah, I guess you don't because I always kept that separate from my internet life."

He nodded. "I mean, you've always been MotorMeow or Meow for short. Or I could call you Brittany." He chuckled after bringing up the horrible name he guessed during the podcast.

I laughed. "You better not. But yeah, I guess I've been pretty anonymous this whole time. Even for y'all."

He waited, curious, soft and open in a way that made my heart do flips. He gave a small comforting smile that made my heart go even wilder.

I bit the inside of my cheek, then scooted closer so we were practically right next to each other despite sitting apart on different couches. I held out my hand towards him with a dramatic flair. "Hi. I'm Y/N."

Pezzy stared at my hand like I'd handed him some ancient relic. Then he grinned, slow and crooked, shaking my hand. "Y/N," he repeated, like he was testing how it sounded. "Huh. That's... yeah. That fits you. It also fits you way better than Brittany did."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he said again, this time more certain. "Pretty name for a menace."

I rolled my eyes and smacked his shoulder lightly before he caught my wrist, fingers brushing against my skin in a way that felt more electric than any kiss. "Okay, fine," he added, "You've earned my real name too."

"Oh? I already know it's Max," I teased, arching a brow.

He gasped like I'd cursed his bloodline. "How dare you. I thought we were introducing ourselves, you had an advantage the whole time."

I grinned. "To be fair your name has been out there for a while. So not my fault."

"Alright then, Y/N," he said, sitting up straighter. "Hi. I'm Max."

We sat there a second too long, smiling like idiots. Names exchanged. Masks off.

No usernames. No chat. Just us.

Two days later, I woke up to a Discord ping and a DM from Puffer.

@Bigpuffer:

yo u down to record prop hunt with smii7y, john, matt, droid, and I tonight?

I blinked at my phone, reread it, and sat up straight. I'd met them briefly in passing, on discord calls, but never played directly with any of them other than Droid and Puffer. I typed back quickly.

Me:

absolutely. what time?

It will be an interesting recording session since everyone is competitive in their own ways.

That night, I joined the VC with my heart doing somersaults in my chest. The second I joined, the energy hit like a truck.

"AYYYY, Meow's here!" Blarg shouted.

"Oh no, the menace," Smii7y added, instantly grinning through his mic.

"Says you." I responded also grinning.

"She finally agreed to suffer with us," Kryoz (or, well, John) said.

"You poor soul," Puffer joked. "Good luck."

The game started fast. Prop Hunt was already chaos, but add this group? I was crying with laughter fifteen minutes in.

"Why is Matt a literal filing cabinet in the women's bathroom?" I asked through wheezes.

"Why are you in the women's bathroom?!" Blarg shot back.

"FOR THE CLIP, plus im a woman you're not." I yelled.

The banter was effortless. I didn't feel like 'the new one.' I felt like I belonged.

Smii7y and I ended up on the same team for several rounds, and we were dangerous together—way too synced, way too sarcastic. Kryoz kept narrating everything in a fake History Channel voice. Matt, aka Blarg, called me "MotorMommy" once and immediately got screamed at by the rest of the VC.

We played for hours, until our cheeks hurt and our voices were shot.

By the end, I got a ping from Smii7y.

@Smii7y:

we're all planning a Canada hang in like a month. grizzy, pezzy, puffer, droid, john, tyler, anthony, scotty all plan on meeting with me and matt. wanna come?

I just stared at it.

Then I replied.

Me:

absolutely. let me know the dates and I'll start planning.

After logging off, I leaned back in my chair, heart pounding.

One minute I was a faceless rider with a Twitch chat full of degenerates, and now?

Now I had a group of friends which is just chaos.

A maybe-boyfriend named Max.

A cat who judged everyone but had declared her loyalty.

And in a few weeks?

I'd be flying to Canada to meet the madness in person.

There were things to book. A passport to double-check. An entire wardrobe to overthink. And maybe—just maybe—a future I hadn't dared to imagine.

I cracked my knuckles, opened my Notes app, and typed at the top:

CANADA CHAOS MASTER PLAN

Because if the last few weeks had taught me anything...

The chaos?

Was just getting started.

Even later that night, as I was still staring at my open Notes app, half typing 'contact puffer see what sleeping arrangements will be like. hotel? Airbnb?' and half doom scrolling through twitter looking at the flurry of stream and video clips already popping up. Then I got another ping from Discord.

This time from Max.

@Pezzy:

so uh. not to be weird after all that but... would you wanna grab dinner with me? like, not 'post stream or recording food' or whataburger runs. but like actual dinner just us

My heart skipped a beat. Then did a full somersault.

I stared at the message, reread it three times, and grinned so hard it hurt.

Me:

soo like a date... not weird at all. i'd love that

just name a day and time and i'll be there (unless im a prop pretending to be a microwave again)

His reply came instantly.

@Pezzy:

yeah ig...

friday?

i know a place that doesn't have chat watching us or tts asking if we're in love every 5 minutes

I laughed, actually laughed out loud, hand pressed over my face as I kicked my feet like some character in a romcom falling in love for the first time.

Me:

friday it is

but if someone from chat shows up at the restaurant im blaming you

@Pezzy:

acceptable

but fair warning i might still ask if you like me

just for the bit

Me:

you're lucky you're cute

@Pezzy:

i think your talking about yourself bc you're the cute one here

I turned my computer off and let my head fall back against the chair, face warm and heart doing backflips like never before.

There was still so much coming; more streams, more chaos, a date, a trip to Canada that I already know will be unforgettable, and so much more after all that.

But for the first time in a long time, the future didn't just feel like something to plan for.

It felt like something to look forward to.

And in the middle of all that madness, I had a feeling Max was going to be there.

Right in the thick of it.

Beside me.

Chapter Text

Friday.

The second I opened my eyes, it hit me like a truck full of GSups and Twitter memes.

Date. Tonight. With Max.

Not a stream. Not a chaotic recording session. Not a group hang with ten people yelling over Discord.

Just me and Max.

I sat up, Cosmo immediately hopping up onto the bed and giving me that knowing look like she could sense my heart trying to sprint its way out of my chest. I reached for my phone and opened my Notes app again:

DATE NIGHT MASTER PLAN

outfit

hair (??? curled? straightened?? both???)

don't be weird

NO MOTORCYCLE TALK UNLESS HE BRINGS IT UP

also maybe bring up Canada plans???

I groaned and rolled onto my back, eyes staring at the ceiling.

I was so doomed.

Still, I dragged myself to the bathroom, music blasting through my speakers as I did my skincare, lightly curled my shaggy wolf cut so it framed my face just right, and stood in front of the mirror, hands on my hips.

"Okay," I said to myself. "We're doing this. No helmet. No hiding."

After a solid twenty minutes of trying on and discarding clothes, I finally landed on something that felt like me: a cute red shirt that wasn't too fitting but also not baggy with a leather biking jacket overtop because Pezzy said he'd pick me up on his bike. I decided on tight black jeans that hugged my body perfectly, my favorite black heeled combat boots, and some silver jewelry that complimented my outfit. (outfit above)

Soft but dark makeup, tinted lip balm, and just enough highlighter to catch the light.

Sexy. Effortlessly cool. Slightly dangerous.

Date-worthy.

My phone buzzed right as I was lacing up my boots.

@Pezzy:

outside 😎

I rushed to the window and there he was, parked out front on his bike this time—black helmet, leather jacket, that casual lean against the handlebars like a scene straight out of a movie. He lifted a hand and waved when he saw me peek out.

I grabbed my own helmet, paused for a second, then smiled. Tonight wasn't MotorMeow. Tonight is all for Y/N.

I jogged downstairs, heart thudding in my throat, helmet in hand. The moment I opened the door, Max looked up and visibly paused.

"Damn," he said, lifting his visor and grinning. "You're gonna make me crash with how good you look."

I rolled my eyes, but the smile on my face was impossible to hide. "Flattery gets you nowhere. Now scoot up."

I pulled on my helmet, then slid onto the back of his bike like it was second nature. My arms wrapped instinctively around his waist, and the rumble of the engine under me matched the rush in my chest.

As the city flew by in streaks of light and warmth, I leaned closer into him—not because I had to, but because I wanted to.

There was no stream. No camera.

Just the open road and the promise of something more.

We pulled up to this cozy little place just outside the heart of the city. It wasn't flashy or trendy, but it was warm, full of soft lighting, and had a menu scrawled on chalkboards with things like smoked brisket sliders and honey sriracha brussels.

Max parked, kicked the stand out, and helped me off the bike with this small, boyish smile like he still couldn't believe I was really here.

"You alright?" he asked as we walked up to the door.

"Just trying to keep from melting into the pavement," I replied. "You're... a lot when you're not pixelated on my monitor."

He smirked. "Yeah? So are you."

We got a table on the patio, string lights twinkling above us. The conversation flowed effortlessly—jokes, memories, even some of the more serious stuff, like what it was like trying to grow on Twitch while staying anonymous, or how weirdly surreal this whole past month had been.

"So what are you thinking for Canada?" he asked, picking at a fry. "Excited? Nervous?"

"A little of both," I admitted. "Excited to see everyone, slightly terrified someone's gonna throw me into a lake as initiation."

Max snorted. "Okay, yeah. That's 100% gonna be Matt, maybe Smii7y as well."

"And you'd help them, don't lie."

He grinned. "Maybe. But only if you deserved it."

I raised a brow. "Deserved how?"

"Like... if you beat all of us in Mario Kart and rubbed it in for the next three hours."

"So... like, guaranteed then."

We laughed, but the soft quiet that followed felt different, comfortable. Familiar in a brand-new way.

Then Max reached across the table, brushing his fingers lightly over mine.

"Hey," he said.

I looked up.

Max's voice lowered just enough to steal my breath. "I know we've kind of been spiraling toward this for a while, but I figured I should probably ask officially."

He stood up, rounded the table, and offered his hand to me and helped me up.

"Y/N," he said, eyes bright but serious, "Would you be my girlfriend?"

My heart nearly exploded.

I took his hand, and smiled like I was trying to memorize the moment.

"You took way too long to ask."

His grin was immediate. "So that's a yes?"

"Obviously."

He leaned in and kissed me, gentle and sure, like we were both finally stepping into something that had been waiting for us.

Not our first kiss, but this one felt like a beginning.

When we broke apart, I rested my forehead against his and whispered, "Chat's gonna combust when they find out."

He laughed. "Let them. They've had their fun. Now it's our turn."

We held hands all the way back to his bike.

And when he dropped me off at my door, his helmet in one hand, his other brushing a thumb over my knuckles before letting go and kissing me goodnight, I watched him ride off under the glow of the streetlamps, heart full, light, and steady.

There was still so much ahead—recordings, streams, the Canada trip, and whatever chaotic memories we were about to make.

Summer sun, long days, late-night bonfires, maybe even stupid dares and half-drunk Uno battles with a group of friends who felt more like family every day.

But all I could think about in that moment was this:

It's real. It's him. It's us.

And this summer?

It wasn't just going to be unforgettable.

It was going to be ours.

Chapter Text

One month later.

5:00 AM

My alarm went off but I was already awake.

Not in that miserable, ‘Ugh why is the sun here’ kind of way. But more like the morning you’re going to fly to another country for the first time with your favorite people for the holidays kind of way.

I sat up slowly, blinking against the light filtering through my curtains and dismissing my alarm. Cosmo lifted her head from her spot curled beside me and meowed like she knew  something was different. 

“Yeah,” I whispered, reaching over to scratch behind her ears. “I’m going on an adventure. You hungry girl? You better behave while I’m gone.”

I’d spent all week prepping; passport checked four times, suitcase perfectly organized, every camera battery charged, and at least six backup memory cards. I wasn’t taking chances. I had a carry-on packed with the necessities, snacks,  as well as a camera to vlog some footage before the flight with the boys.

I threw on black joggers, a loose white crop tee, and a hoodie tied around my waist. Comfortable, airport-worthy, but still cute. My hair was thrown into a loose bun, a little messy but intentional. The kind of look you could sleep in during the flight and still not look like you fought a tornado.

At 5:24 AM sharp, my phone buzzed.

@Bigpuffer:

we’re outside, sleepyhead. let’s roll

I grabbed my suitcase and carry on, gave Cosmo one last treat and a ‘I’ll miss you’ pat, then headed down.

Puffer’s car was idling in the driveway with Grizzy in the passenger seat and Max and Droid in the back, arguing over who got the window seat.

Max rolled down the window the second he saw me. “Morning, sunshine.”

I yawned dramatically and flicked his forehead as I slid into the middle seat. “You’re too cheerful for 5 a.m.”

“And you still look like a main character,” Droid muttered from my right.

“Main character who’s stealing all the snacks on this trip,” I added, grabbing my camera out then throwing my bag in the trunk with everyone else’s.

Puffer started driving while aggressively sipping a gas station coffee. “We getting breakfast or nah?”

“McDonald's,” Grizzy demanded. “I need a hash brown before I step foot in an airport.”

“Seconded,” Max said, turning to grin at me. “You need coffee?”

“I require coffee or some sort of energy drink,” I said, half-serious. “Otherwise I’ll pass out before we even get to security.”

Puffer pulled into a drive-thru and ordered enough food to feed an army. Which, considering the chaos waiting in Canada, might be exactly what we were. Egg McMuffins, coffee, hash browns, iced lattes, two pancake platters ‘just in case,’ and an extra order of nuggets for ‘airport anxiety.’

Back on the road, the energy was chaotic and sleepy all at once. I pulled out my camera and started vlogging the boys, asking them some questions about how they’re feeling about the chaos that's gonna happen. Max rested his hand on my knee casually, the quiet kind of affection that made my chest feel warm even in the air-conditioned car. Grizzy and Droid were arguing over whose headphones were better. Puffer was blasting throwback music that had us all badly singing along between sips of lukewarm coffee.

By the time we pulled into the airport, the sun was just peeking over the skyline. Light poured over the pavement like the opening credits of a movie. Our movie.

Luggage rolling behind us, we navigated check-in, security, and Max somehow still getting pulled aside for a random screening ( “I must have a suspiciously handsome aura,” he claimed).

And then we were at the gate.

Waiting.

Anticipating.

Together.

I looked around at the boys, Grizzy dozing under his hoodie, Droid editing something on his laptop already, Puffer sitting backwards in a chair like it was a therapy session, and Max beside me, scrolling through TikTok with his arm brushing mine.

This wasn’t just a trip.

It was the start of something.

Canada was going to be bonfires and lakes, beers on rooftops, and screaming laughter around kitchen counters. It was going to be inside jokes, late-night streams, cracked Mario Kart sessions, and moments we’d never forget.

And whatever happened next?

We’d face it together.

Max looked over suddenly and nudged me gently. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

His voice dropped to that soft, familiar pitch—the one he used when we weren’t streaming or recording or surrounded by chaos.

“Thanks for coming with us. Honestly I don’t think I would survive this if you didn’t come.”

I smiled, laced my fingers through his, and leaned my head on his shoulder.

“Thank Smii7y for inviting me. And now we can struggle to survive this together.”

Around seven the boarding call echoed through the terminal.

And as we stood up, grabbing our bags and falling into line behind a small sea of strangers, one thought circled in my head.

Let the summer chaos begin.

Next stop?

Canada.

Flight duration: give or take three to four hours to fly directly from Austin to Toronto.

By some miracle of airline RNG, we’d managed to book seats all in the same row—well, two rows technically. Grizzy and Puffer claimed the row behind us, while Max, Droid, and I took the front one.

I called window immediately. No hesitation. Vlogger priorities.

Max took the middle seat beside me, giving me an exaggerated pout about the lack of armrest dominance. Droid sat in the aisle with a neck pillow already strapped on like he was preparing for battle. Puffer sat in the window seat behind me to film the sky for a possible vlog if he ends up recording enough content. With Grizzy squished in the middle seat between Puffer and a woman in the aisle who also let Grizzy have the arm rest between them.

“Don’t talk to me unless the plane’s on fire,” Droid mumbled as he shoved in his earbuds and pulled his hoodie over his face.

“Duly noted,” I said, already reaching for my camera.

Once we were airborne, I started filming. The morning sun painted the clouds in gold and pink, and the shot from my window seat looked like a desktop wallpaper come to life. Max leaned over occasionally, watching me record, his cheek practically pressed to mine, pretending to critique my angles.

“You know, if you tilt it up just a little you can make it look like I’m holding the sun in my hand,” he joked.

I rolled my eyes. “Are you trying to be poetic or is that just the sleep deprivation talking?”

“Little bit of both.”

Grizzy kept bumping his knee into Puffer’s until Puffer turned towards him and threatened to airlock him mid-flight. Naturally, I got that on camera too.

Droid stayed passed out for the first hour, then woke up and immediately started editing some footage on his laptop—probably from the stream the five of us did the previous week.

Midway through, Max offered me one of his earbuds and queued up a playlist. It was a mix of chill alt tracks, nostalgic bangers, and one weird remix of the Wii Sports theme that had us laughing quietly into our sleeves while everyone else tried to nap.

It was easy, natural. Even while flying 30,000 feet in the air, next to clouds and strangers, with engines humming in our ears.

Eventually, I rested my head on Max’s shoulder and let myself drift—not fully asleep, but that in-between place where time melts. Camera in my lap. His fingers tracing light circles on the back of my hand.

Landing. 10:49 AM. Toronto time.

Customs took forever. Something about Grizzy having too many electronics and Puffer declaring his energy drinks like they were priceless contraband. But eventually, we made it through with all limbs (and items) intact.

Outside, the sun was blazing and the air smelled like summer. Not the dry Texas heat I was used to, but crisp and fresh, almost foresty and serene despite still being in a big city.

We all stood in the pick-up zone near arrivals, leaning against a concrete barrier while waiting for the Uber Puffer ordered.

Max had his hoodie pulled up and sunglasses on, even though we were standing in the shade. Grizzy had climbed up onto the edge of the planter behind us, scrolling TikTok and yelling when he found a good one. Droid sat on his suitcase like a throne and was narrating everyone's actions like a nature documentary.

“And here we observe the rare gamer outside his natural habitat… hunched, under-caffeinated, and already regretting this group vacation…”

Puffer was pacing with his phone out like a dad making sure we were at the right terminal.

I opened my camera again and started filming.

“Alright chat—or, well, youtube—Day One of Canada Chaos is officially starting. We’ve landed, we’re alive, and Droid is already sweating through his hoodie.”

“I’m not sweating,” Droid said, stepping into frame. “I’m glistening with anticipation.”

“Bro, that's the humidity.”

He smirked and said hello to the camera, and someone behind us shouted, “Your back is already soaked, you're sweating.”

Eventually, the Uber pulled up: a black SUV that somehow looked way too small for five people and their bags.

“Shotgun,” Grizzy yelled, springing off his suitcase.

“Not even a chance,” Puffer said, yanking the door open first. “I’m the one who ordered it!”

I didn’t even argue. I climbed into the back with Max, shoulders squished and laughing too hard to care. Droid ended up sideways in the trunk space like a gremlin, typing away on his phone. I made sure to get footage of us packed in the car but mainly Droid in the trunk. Laughing when he tried to snatch the camera from me.

As we pulled away from the airport, packed in like overexcited sardines with energy drinks and camera bags, I pressed my forehead against the glass and looked out at the passing buildings, already rolling footage in my mind.

Canada was here.

The chaos had begun.

And this summer?

Was about to be everything from calm to fun to chaos.

Chapter Text

(I couldn't not add the part about the 'this is what pussy sounds like')

Arrival at the Hotel – 2:15 PM

After nearly four hours in the air, two hours navigating customs, and an hour long Uber ride with a driver who swore he once drove for Drake, we finally pulled up to the hotel.

Droid threw his arms in the air the second he stepped out of the car. “CANADA, BABY!”

Puffer followed behind him, stretching like he just completed a marathon. “First thing I’m doing is peeing in international territory. Make history.”

John, Tyler, Anthony, Scott, Matt, Smii7y, plus Kelly (Tyler’s girlfriend), Chrissy (Scott’s wife), and a few other streamers showed up. We talked outside the hotel for a couple minutes to figure out sleeping arrangements because there are four rooms; each room has 2 beds.

We piled into the lobby once we figured things out, dragging suitcases and chaotic energy with us. The front desk lady blinked twice as over twelve semi-unhinged content creators, still buzzing from airport coffee and zero sleep, checked in one by one.

The second we stepped into our floor’s hallway, Droid let out a loud sigh, looked at the walls, and said loudly.

“I’m fucking tired all the sudden.”

We made our way into our designated hotel rooms so me, Max, Droid, Puffer, and Grizzy all walked into the room we were sharing. We spent an hour setting up our stuff while also getting our sleeping arrangements ready, since we were tired from our flight and travels. Me and Max were going to share a bed, Grizzy and Puffer were gonna share a bed and Droid opted to sleep on the couch in the room or the floor, whichever ended up being comfier.

After an hour of chilling around we got ready to go hang around the city and get dinner with the group. Both Droid and Grizzy started to record for their own vlogs. While me and Puffer have been recording for a couple minutes longer than both of them at the moment. 

Puffer and Droid were in the corner of the hotel room by the hotel’s drinks and snacks. 

When suddenly I heard Droid say “I’m telling you bro… this is what pussy sounds like. I’m a virgin but I guarantee you that’s what pussy sounds like." While shaking one of the waters the hotel provided.

I nearly fell over laughing as Puffer wheezed so hard he had to grab the wall for support. Puffer then says, “You want to know what pussy tastes like fucking try it”

“That was so innocent for some reason.” Grizzy said laughing in response to Droid’s comment.

The entire scenario caused both me and Max to almost die of laughter. 

We met up with the rest of the chaos crew in the hotel’s lounge a few minutes later.

Smii7y was leaned back in one of the armchairs, drink in hand, grinning like he already knew we were in for some dumb decisions. Matt saw us and yelled, “Yes everyone has arrived.”

Tyler, Anthony, Scotty, and John were already arguing over whose idea it was to book this specific hotel. (Spoiler: it was no one’s idea. They just forgot to plan until a week ago. Which is why we have to split between four rooms.)

Max wrapped an arm around my waist and whispered, “You ready for the real chaos to begin?”

I looked around, John dramatically reenacting a war story with air guitar sound effects, Anthony already halfway into a Red Bull, Tyler making “I will babysit all of you” dad noises—and smiled.

“Let’s go feral.”

Arcade Mayhem – 4:30 PM

The first activity was a walk down to a local arcade, Smii7y apparently haunted in his teenage years.

There were flashing lights, retro sounds, and an air hockey table that instantly turned into a battleground. Droid and Puffer challenged each other like it was the Olympics. I filmed Max beating Matt at a basketball hoop shootout while I yelled, “You’re washed!!”

Kelly and Chrissy dominated the Dance Dance Revolution game.

I took over the claw machine and actually won a tiny stuffed monkey, which of course became the group’s new god. We named him “Chadwick.” He was duct-taped to someone’s shoulder for the rest of the night.

Dinner – 7:45 PM

We hit a local spot that had everything from burgers to sushi, which meant absolute chaos when ordering.

Grizzy: “I want the fried rice with no onions.”

Smii7y: “Give me the weirdest thing on the menu.”

Droid: “Can I substitute my drink with violence?”

Me: “Can we get twelve orders of fries for the table?”

Max, to the waiter: “Ignore all of them. She’s the only one making sense.”

The table was full of food, screaming laughter, and jokes that would definitely never be safe for stream.

At one point Matt said something stupid and got bonked with a fork by Puffer. John recorded it in slow motion. It was beautiful.

Bowling – 9:30 PM

The shoes didn’t fit properly, the music was too loud, and the vibes were immaculate.

Puffer bowled like he was trying to break the lane.

Droid was dancing while throwing his ball, nearly wiping out three times.

Max tried to show me how to ‘properly aim’ and ended up falling into the gutter with a loud, “I MEANT TO DO THAT.”

John rolled a strike while holding a drink. King behavior. (He was the only person to roll a strike the entire night)

I got a spare and everyone lost their minds like I’d just won the lottery.

Smii7y kept whispering, “Monkey form, activate,” every time someone stepped up, which slowly devolved into everyone actually making monkey noises every time we scored.

I don’t know how we didn’t get kicked out.

Back at the Hotel – Midnight

We piled into the elevator, exhausted and still laughing.

Matt cradled Chadwick the Monkey like he was our first-born. Droid was still saying, “I’m telling you, this is what—” before everyone yelled “NO.”

Max reached for my hand again, lacing our fingers quietly.

We were a bunch of degenerate streamers in a hotel elevator smelling faintly of fried food, alcohol, sweat, and chaotic victory. And yet, somehow, it felt perfect.

When we made it back to our rooms, I flopped face-first onto the bed, grinning into the sheets.

Tomorrow? More chaos.

Tonight?

Just a perfect, unhinged beginning.

Chapter Text

Hotel Room Chaos – 11:00 AM

The next morning hit like a brick for some of us—and like three energy drinks for others.

The second the sun peeked through the hotel curtains, Droid, Matt, and Smii7y were already bouncing off the walls. Pezzy was in the bathroom blasting music while brushing his teeth and dancing. I was filming everyone, hoodie on, hair a mess, but way too awake for the hour.

Kelly and Chrissy had coffee in hand and were trying to convince someone—anyone—to go out for breakfast.

Meanwhile, John, Tyler, Puffer, Anthony, Scotty, and Grizzy were slumped across various pieces of furniture in the room, still wrapped in blankets or hoodie hoods like hungover cryptids. Grizzy mumbled something about ‘jet lag’ even though there is barely anytime difference from Austin.

Matt and Smii7y were arguing over who stole whose hoodie, both of them now wearing each other’s by accident. Before John got involved and told them to be quiet and deal with it.

Kelly and Chrissy gave up on someone getting breakfast and were now attempting to braid Anthony’s hair while Scotty gave John an awful temporary tattoo from the vending machine downstairs.

Someone threw a grape. No one knew where it came from. It hit Droid in the ear.

“I SWEAR TO GOD,” he shouted, diving behind the hotel couch like it was a warzone. “THIS IS HOW CIVILIZATIONS FALL.”

Between the chaos, someone mentioned needing to escape the city for a day.

“Let’s go up to that lake outside town,” Tyler suggested. “Rent cabins, no Wi-Fi, just bonfires, swimming, dumb camp shit.”

Everyone paused.

“No internet?” Pezzy asked dramatically, hand to his chest.

“Think of the vlog content,” Grizzy said, eyes sparkling.

That’s all it took.

The Lake – The Next Day, 3:10 PM

Two hours north of the hotel, the vans pulled up next to a tree lined dirt path that led to two lakeside cabins each tucked against the water with a perfect view and not a single bar of cell service.

“We’re gonna die here,” Droid muttered as we unpacked the vans. “If I don’t tweet in like 24 hours, assume the monkey gods took me.”

The cabins were rustic but cozy: creaky floorboards, bunk beds, and an old radio playing static until someone turned the dial just right. It was perfect.

Within 15 minutes, Grizzy, John, and Scotty were already shirtless and sprinting toward the lake like children released from school. Someone bellyflopped. It echoed.

Droid filmed it with the worst commentary possible: “And here we have natural stupidity in its rarest form.”

Swimming, Vlogs, and Monkey Business – 4:45 PM

Half the group went full aquatic. I joined them after changing, diving off the small dock with a yell. Puffer recorded everything, narrating like it was a travel vlog gone wrong.

Matt and Droid reenacted a sea battle using floaties shaped like flamingos. At one point, Droid yelled “MONKEY POWER ACTIVATE” and fell off mid-flip. Pezzy nearly dropped the camera from laughing.

“Chadwick would be proud,” I said, holding up the soggy plush monkey that somehow made the trip with us.

Bonfires crackled in the distance as we dried off, still soaked but grinning.

Camp Games & Chaos – 7:30 PM

Dinner was grilled hamburgers and hotdogs, marshmallows, and random snack foods someone had panic-bought at the gas station. Droid tried to roast a frozen burrito over the flames.

“It’s the caveman way,” he explained. “This is what evolution looks like.”

“I think you mean de-evolution.”

Later, we split into groups for camp games. Uno got violent. Someone got smacked with a bug zapper. We stupidly started to play drinking games. Which we ended up regretting. Someone almost fell into the fire which is what caused us to stop playing. Our vlog was going to be so chaotic. I told Pezzy this will either be a long vlog or multiple videos because we have hours of footage.

Late Night – 1:12 AM

The fire had burned low. Most of the group was sprawled out on blankets or logs, faces lit by flickering flame. Chrissy handed out s’mores like a mom with unlimited patience.

I sat between Pezzy and Droid, hoodie zipped up, hair still damp from the lake. The sound of laughter, frogs, and crackling logs filled the night.

No buzzing phones. No chat spamming W’s or asking for face cams.

Just us.

Just real.

“Think we could stay forever?” I asked, half joking.

Pezzy leaned into me. “Maybe not forever. But I wouldn’t mind getting lost a little longer.”

I didn’t say anything back. Just smiled and looked up at the stars, letting the moment stretch.

Tomorrow would bring more chaos.

Tonight?

Peace, pine trees, and just enough monkey energy to keep us alive.

Chapter Text

Cabin Morning Chaos – 10:02 AM

Status: Mildly Hungover. Moderately Chaotic. Fully Recording.

The sun over the lake was offensively bright as it made its way into the cabins. With the amount of drinks that got passed around last night no one wanted to be awake this early.

Bodies were scattered across couches, sleeping bags, and even two bean bags which weren’t there the night before. Everyone was too tired or drunk to actually try to make it to their assigned sleeping areas and somehow we all ended up in one cabin despite having another one. Someone (probably Matt or maybe Droid) had written “Monke man” on the foggy glass door in what looked like barbecue sauce.

I sat up slowly from one of the couches, hair a mess, hoodie halfway off my shoulder, and the faint smell of burning something already creeping through the air. Whatever it was smelt nauseating and pungent. It burned my nose.

Smii7y and John were in full “we got this, trust us” mode, despite clearly having no plan or recipe. Smii7y was poking at what was supposed to be French toast with a spatula like it owed him money, while John tried to flip something in a frying pan and almost flung it into the ceiling fan.

A camera was already on the counter recording the madness and chaos. The smoke alarm was beeping, causing more people to awake to the disaster before us.

“You smell that?” Grizzy mumbled from the couch, face buried in a throw pillow. “That’s danger.”

“I smell stupidity,” Chrissy added, dragging herself into the room, wearing socks with tiny maple leaves on them. “And burnt cinnamon.”

Tyler and Puffer were already wide awake in their version of ‘parent mode.’

Puffer had a towel thrown over his shoulder like a sitcom dad and was aggressively googling “what to do if the smoke alarm won’t stop beeping.”

Tyler had a mug of black coffee and the exhausted look of someone babysitting a dozen overgrown children. He took one look at the stove and sighed. “Y’all trying to start an international incident over scrambled eggs?”

“I got this!” Smii7y shouted, aggressively flipping the French toast again. It landed sideways. In the sink.

“Obviously not,” I responded.

“That’s not where that goes!” Tyler snapped.

Matt strolled in, bleary-eyed, still in pajama pants and a “VIBE CHECK: FAILED” shirt. “Did someone say French toast or is that just hallucinations from smoke inhalation?”

“Both,” I said, pressing record on my own camera. “Congratulations, you’re on season one, episode three of Who Let These Idiots Cook? Or more so who even let them in the kitchen in the first place.”

Droid appeared from one of the side rooms with bedhead that looked like it lost a fight with gravity. “Why is the floor sticky?” he asked.

“Because you spilled a drink last night,” Puffer muttered. “And then tried to convince us it was ‘natural cabin ambiance.’ And wood sap which doesn’t even make sense.”

“Oh yeah,” Droid nodded proudly. “Sticky floors equal good vibes.”

“Sticky anything to you would equal good vibes.”

“Huh. Excuse me, what do you mean by that?" Droid looked at me almost offended.

Max entered last, hoodie zipped up and sleep still in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss my cheek and mumbled, “Please tell me someone brought food which you don’t have to cook because I don’t trust anything in the kitchen that they touched. Their energy probably rubbed off on all the appliances.”

“I don’t think we do, sorry. But no promises that you still won't get their energy just by being in that kitchen.” I said, grinning, filming him as he blinked at the scorched pan like it personally offended him.

“Okay,” Tyler clapped his hands loudly. “New rule. No one touches the stove unless they have a license, a brain cell, or isn’t hungover. Preferably all three.”

Puffer nodded. “And if you light the kitchen on fire, you’re sleeping outside.”

Grizzy groaned from the couch. “Honestly, I’ll take the woods. At least trees don’t scream when the toast catches fire. And the trees wouldn’t cause a fire in the first place.”

Eventually, things calmed down—sort of. Puffer took over the stove and made scrambled eggs, Kelly made some bacon, while Tyler brewed enough coffee to legally reanimate a corpse.

Smii7y and John set up cameras to record a group breakfast bit, which quickly devolved into everyone yelling about whose toast was the saddest and whether or not maple syrup counts as a drink.

I sat cross-legged on the cabin floor with Max, both of us sharing one of the mini plates of food and sipping from the same coffee cup. The energy was still wild, but it had that cozy post-chaos vibe—the kind that follows a long night of fun and leaves behind nothing but inside jokes and sugar crashes.

“I wanna cut or dye someone's hair.” I said out loud.

Everyone turned and looked at where me and Pezzy were sitting on the floor. 

John squinted. “Are you talking, like... trimmed ends or full send mullet?”

Max choked on the sip of coffee we were sharing. “Yes please clarify.”

“Either,” I said, shrugging. “Both. Depends on who volunteers as tribute.”

“You’re not touching my curls,” Grizzy said immediately, clutching his hoodie like it was a legal shield.

“Honestly,” Matt said, stretching with a yawn, “I feel like I’m spiritually ready for a buzzcut. Let the wind hit my scalp.”

“Matt, I will not shave your hair. I said cut not shave.”

Tyler raised a hand like a strict substitute teacher. “No haircuts until after breakfast and someone opens a window. We are one smoke alarm away from losing cabin privileges.”

“I got scissors in my vlog kit,” Droid offered, like it was a normal thing to bring.

“You what—” Anthony started, blinking.

“Y’all didn’t pack scissors?” Droid looked around like he was the reasonable one. “What if you need to cut tags off clothes or, I don’t know, escape from zip ties?”

“That’s oddly specific,” Puffer muttered.

“Don’t question it,” Smii7y added. “He’s right. Cabin rule #3: Always trust the guy with chaos scissors.”

“Honestly, I would let you give me a mullet as long as you keep it roughly the same length.” John said full seriously.

Chapter Text

River Tubing/Lake Shenanigans – 1:12 PM

After breakfast and another solid thirty minutes of arguing about whether sunscreen counts as a personality trait, we all finally changed and piled outside to head to the lake.

We packed coolers, Bluetooth speakers, and enough floaties to qualify as a small marina. John called dibs on riding in the back of the truck with the cooler. Droid called dibs on narrating everything like it was a nature documentary.

“The wild streamer packs gather,” he said into his phone, filming as Max helped load beach towels and Matt tried to climb on top of the cabin porch. “Confused, loud, and in desperate need of a nap.”

“Get off the railing!” Tyler yelled as Matt immediately fell backward into the grass and yelled “I’m FINE dad.”

We drove down in two groups—half in Smii7y’s car, the other half in Puffer’s rental. Someone (probably Droid) connected to the car’s Bluetooth and started blasting chaotic playlists: EDM, meme tracks, a Disney throwback, and one random anime intro no one claimed responsibility for.

Once we got to the lake area we parked and took a bus to the river tubing area, it was everything: calm water, late summer sun, barely anyone else around. We tubed down the river for 15 minutes until we ended in the lake.

Lakefront – 2:00 PM

The group split off fast—some diving into the water, others throwing a frisbee, and a few people (me, Max, Chrissy, and John) chilling near the edge, toes in the water and cameras rolling.

Kelly and Anthony tried to paddle a canoe and spent fifteen minutes going in slow circles before crashing into the dock and giving up.

Matt found a stick, declared it a sword, and challenged Droid to a duel. Droid responded by picking up a floatie like a shield and charging him full-speed. They both fell into the lake and came up wheezing.

Tyler, Puffer, Scott, and Grizzy were just floating on floaties just relaxing and napping.

Smii7y muttered something to John which I couldn’t make out. I glanced over to them questioningly. It wasn’t until they stood up while laughing and took a step towards me that I became scared of what they were planning.

Soon enough I was in the air in their arms being carried towards the dock. “Stop. Don’t do this. What did I ever do to y’all?” Next thing I knew I was dragging Smii7y down with me and we ended up submerged under water.

“Let’s get the fire pit set up early,” Tyler called, already organizing wood while Puffer counted how many marshmallows we had. “I want at least one semi-responsible moment today.”

“BORING,” Droid yelled from the water.

“NECESSARY,” Tyler yelled back.

Bonfire – 8:20 PM

As the sky turned a warm orange and the bugs started doing their nighttime thing, the fire crackled to life.

Blankets were pulled around shoulders. Drinks passed between hands. The cameras were still recording but no one was playing to them anymore.

It was just us.

John and Grizzy told stories like we were around a summer campfire—half true, half exaggerated. Droid and Matt kept daring each other to eat raw marshmallows in one bite. “That’s not even a challenge!” Grizzy said. “Shut up, let me have this!” Droid argued back.

Max leaned back against the log behind us, arm slung around my shoulders, his voice low as he talked with Smii7y about how much things had changed over the past year. How weird—but amazing—it felt that we were all here.

No Wi-Fi.

No overlays.

No alerts.

Just firelight and lake water.

I reached into the snack bin, pulled out a piece of chocolate, and whispered to Max, “You know this is going to make the best vlog, right?”

We toasted marshmallows. Someone dropped a s’more into the fire and yelled in despair.

And as the night wrapped around us, soft and golden and just loud enough to keep us grounded, I realized something:

This wasn’t just a weekend.

This was the memory we’d all come back to someday.

The lake.

The fire.

The laughter.

Us.

And if it was up to me? I’d hit replay forever.

I volunteered to drive one of the cars back and Smii7y drove his car back. We got back to the Cabin’s around 10:30 and actually split into the two cabins.

Chapter Text

Late Night Cabin Unwind – 11:12 PM

Back at the cabins, the chaos mellowed into something softer. Something peaceful.

Most of us were in pajamas within five minutes of walking in the door. The air smelled like bonfire smoke, sunscreen, and toasted sugar. The kind of scent that somehow felt like a memory already.

Me, Max, Droid, Grizzy, and Puffer crashed in one cabin again, even though everyone technically had their own space this time. Old habits and stronger friendships die hard.

Puffer immediately called dibs on the shower. Max face-planted into the nearest bed like he’d been running marathons all day (he kind of had—just emotional ones, which might be worse). Grizzy laid on the floor dramatically with a Gatorade balanced on his chest, muttering about sore muscles and mosquito bites like he’d just come back from war.

Droid? Droid still had energy. And a camera. Which was a dangerous combo.

“POV: You just survived the lake with feral streamers,” he said, filming the room as he panned across everyone in various stages of collapse. “The camerawoman? Emotionally unwell. Her boyfriend? Dead. The homie on the floor? Haunting this cabin.”

“I’m not dead,” Max mumbled into a pillow. “Just... buffering.”

I flicked Droid lightly with a hair tie and grabbed his wrist, flipping the camera to my face. “Day two in the wilderness: zero bars of Wi-Fi, six billion bugs, and one traumatic floatie duel. If we don’t make it, tell chat I loved them.”

He cackled. “And tell them I died as I lived: annoying and near a fire hazard.”

Meanwhile, across the way…

The second cabin was not peaceful.

If anything, it was a waking fever dream powered by caffeine, residual bonfire adrenaline, and whatever unholy energy possessed Blarg, Kryoz, and Smii7y when left unsupervised.

“WHY IS THERE A PINECONE IN THE MICROWAVE?” Chrissy shouted from the kitchen, holding it with tongs like it was radioactive.

“Science,” Kryoz said from behind the couch, peeking over the back like a gremlin. “I wanted to see if it’d pop like popcorn.”

“It didn’t!” Smii7y yelled from the other room. “But the microwave made a noise it’s never made before!”

Blarg ran past shirtless, wielding two glow sticks like drumsticks. “WE’RE DOING TRIBAL VIBES! WHERE’S THE SPEAKER? TURN ON THE MONKEY BEATS.”

John was on the floor trying to plug in a projector that no one remembered bringing. Anthony was recording everything and yelling “Content!” every time something broke.

Scott sat in a corner with a headlamp on, trying to play Mario Kart on the Switch with a pillow over his head to block out the madness. “This is not what I signed up for,” he muttered, absolutely losing to Kelly in the background.

Matt attempted to build a card tower on top of a jelly jar for no reason other than, in his words, “It felt right.”

Tyler—who had clearly tried to separate himself by spending most of the night in the first cabin—opened the door, took one look inside, and just said, “Nope.” Then shut it again.

At one point, someone turned off the lights and started strobing flashlights while Droid (who had wandered in from the other cabin) narrated, “You’re watching Discovery Channel: Streamer Edition. Notice how the pack descends into madness without internet.”

And then Blarg tripped over a beanbag and face-planted into the fridge.

“IM GOOD,” he yelled.

Tyler decided he wasn’t going to deal with that madness and walked back over to our cabin where it was much quieter and peaceful. Ultimately decided to leave the chaos in the second cabin to the women to deal with. 

Back in our cabin – 12:06 AM

I was curled up beside Max, both of us scrolling through today’s footage. The laughter from earlier played softly on the camera screen, voices shouting about marshmallows and floating logs.

“Wanna know something stupid?” I asked, eyes still on the screen.

Max turned to me with that lazy, warm look he always got after a long day of joy. “Always.”

“I think I’m gonna miss this the second we leave. Like, it’s not even over yet, and I already miss it.”

He smiled and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. “It’s not stupid. You just love big. And we never get to see these people in person, so it’s easy to miss them when they’re back behind screens.”

I bumped his knee with mine and looked away, suddenly too full of feeling to say anything back.

Just Outside the Cabins – 12:42 AM

Some of us wandered outside one last time before bed, just to sit under the stars and let the cool air calm everything.

John, Chrissy, Droid, and I sat on the wooden steps, bundled in hoodies and old blankets, passing around a half-finished bag of popcorn and listening to frogs croak from the lake edge. John leaving the chaos making to Smii7y and Matt, too tired to keep up with them.

“Alright, deep question,” Droid said suddenly, waving a stick like it was a mic. “If you could live in one day forever, Groundhog Day style, what day would it be?”

There was silence. Then John said, “This one’s up there, honestly.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, pulling my hoodie tighter around my face. “Right here. Right now. This chaos. These people.”

Droid leaned back on his elbows and smiled at the stars. “Same.”

We didn’t need anything else.

The Next Morning – 9:02 AM

The sun was much gentler this morning—still bright, but not offensively so. Maybe it was the lack of smoke alarms blaring, or maybe it was because Smii7y, John, and Matt were officially banned from the kitchen.

“Kitchen’s a federal disaster zone because of you three,” Puffer had said as he hung a piece of duct tape over the kitchen door that read ‘BANNED – DO NOT TRUST’ in sharpie.

“Unconstitutional,” Smii7y muttered from the couch, wrapped in a blanket like a bitter grandma.

Breakfast, to everyone’s surprise, went smoothly. Grizzy, Chrissy, and Kelly handled most of the cooking while Tyler and Anthony played designated coffee dispensers. Droid supervised—by that, we mean he sat at the table pretending his mug of orange juice was a potion and occasionally said things like “stir it clockwise or it curses your stomach.”

After breakfast plates were cleared and the cabin’s energy reached peak mellow, John turned to me and casually said:

“Wanna cut my hair now?”

I blinked. “Are you serious?”

He grinned. “You mentioned cutting hair. I mentioned mullet. I want mullet. Let’s make it happen.”

Max slowly looked up from his second cup of coffee. “You sure about this, man?”

“I trust her,” John replied, pulling a chair to the center of the room. “Worst case, it’s content. Best case, I become unstoppable.”

Droid immediately started recording. “Haircut arc initiated.”

Pezzy pulled out my camera to start recording, setting it on the table angled towards the chair.

With a towel draped around John’s shoulders, some clippers Matt somehow found in the bottom of his suitcase, and Droid’s scissors, we got to work.

And to everyone’s shock—it turned out good. Like, really good.

Smii7y stood behind the camera, whispering, “She’s powerful… she’s… she’s the chosen one.”

When I finished and John turned to look in the mirror, he grinned so wide I thought his face might break. “Oh this? This is my final form.”

We spent the next hour hyping him up, getting shots for various vlogs, and passing around hair trimmings in a ziplock bag Droid labeled “ESSENCE OF JOHN.”

Later That Day – 2:00 PM

All of us sat out on chairs in front of the cabins or on the porch of the cabin.

The lake shimmered below, untouched for once. No one was rushing. No one was filming anything serious. Just existing together.

“We gotta talk plans for after this,” Tyler said eventually, tossing a marshmallow into his mouth from a yard away.

“You mean like next week?” Puffer asked.

“Nah,” Max said. “Like what we’re doing when we’re not half-naked in a cabin in the woods with questionable life choices.”

“I vote beach trip next,” Chrissy suggested.

“Vegas,” Droid countered.

“I will not survive Vegas,” Grizzy deadpanned.

“You will just not financially and I think that includes most or all of us.” I responded.

Matt sat up from the floor. “You guys coming to Wildcat’s Fourth of July?”

Tyler pointed dramatically. “I was gonna invite y’all! People start showing up a day or two before the end of June. So two, three weeks away but you can show up anytime before the fourth and stay for a week to a week and a half but I'll need to know soon so we can arrange sleeping arrangements and other stuff because we’ll need an AirBNB or a hotel for most people.”

“You mean like everyone everyone?” I asked.

“Whole crew. Even people that aren’t currently here.” Tyler responded.

“Tyler throws the best Fourth of July which is why we do it with him. He also has the biggest house to accommodate everyone.” Anthony added on.

“We already know that a few of you are coming. It's mainly just to guys in Texas that we need to confirm with, in this group at least." Kelly added.

The vibe shifted instantly—from sleepy to excited.

“Yeah I'm in hundred percent this will most definitely be the best summer and year ever.”

The Pezzy, Droid, Puffer, and Grizzy agreed, adding that this will indeed be the best summer.

“God this will be absolute chaos but I guess that’s the fun of this.” Kelly muttered to herself loud enough for us all to hear and burst out laughing.

Chapter Text

Next Day – 11:15 AM

Back to the City

Packing up the cabins felt oddly emotional. We cleaned up, loaded the cars, and said goodbye to the lake that somehow turned a bunch of internet personalities into an oddly functional camp of friends.

The drive back to the city was full of chaotic playlists, stolen blankets, and Matt yelling, “I miss the woods,” as we passed a Starbucks.

That night, we all met up at a chill dinner spot in the city—low lights, big tables, food that wasn’t half-burnt or made over a fire pit.

Max sat next to me, his hand resting gently on my leg under the table. Everyone was laughing about the lake shenanigans, quoting Droid, and reminiscing on Matt’s stick duel like it was a war story.

I leaned my head on Max’s shoulder, full, sleepy, but grateful.

This trip had been something different.

Not just content.

Connection.

A hotel room- 8:47 PM

Basically completely packed except for a few necessities for the night and morning. Procrastination of sleep was happening despite the early flight to go home.

Everyone split right after dinner, some people went to their own hotel rooms to sleep before flights, others wandered around the city for a last minute walk and shopping, and some were just hanging out because their flight wasn’t the next morning.

Puffer, Grizzy, Droid, Pezzy and I were one of the groups that went straight to a hotel. The room wasn’t huge, let alone big enough for five people, but our poor planning is the reason for that. Two queen beds, a little desk and chair, and a small armchair in the corner that would barely fit anyone, with barely any room to walk in between the bed and the desk.

The second we walked in, Puffer immediately claimed sitting at the desk until bed. “This is now mission control. All room operations run through me.”

Max immediately flopped onto one bed like he’d been shot. “This one’s mine. Y/N, you’re with me. The other three can figure the rest out themselves.”

Grizzy pointed at Droid. “I’m not sleeping near him. He screams in his sleep.”

Droid gasped. “One time! And I was dreaming about fighting a bear, so it was justified.”

Puffer agreed to share the bed with Grizzy so the only one that was left was Droid and we all could hear it.

“Were do you all expect me to sleep—” 

I cut Droid off, “I don’t know the floor?”

“I am not sleeping on the floor. Why don’t you sleep on the floor then? huh?” Droid questioned me.

“Oh my god you big baby if sleeping on the floor is that big of a deal to you, you can switch me. I’ll take the floor or armchair since I’m the smallest person here.” I said the first part in an almost sarcastic tone.

9:15 PM – Settling In (Kind of)

If you can call it that. In twenty minutes:

Puffer had stolen all the hotel coffee packets and brewed something so weak it tasted like brown water.

Grizzy was deep in a YouTube spiral about “Top 10 Most Expensive Ice Cream Sundaes” and narrating it like a sports commentator.

Droid had opened the window just enough to stick his head out and yell “HELLOOOOOOOO CANADIAN PEOPLE!” at random pedestrians.

Max and I were on the bed, trading TikToks until we were laughing so hard we couldn’t breathe.

“You guys ever think about how weird hotels are?” Puffer asked, spinning in the desk chair. “Like… millions of people have stayed in this exact room.”

Without missing a beat, Droid said, “Yeah, and we’re definitely leaving it worse than we found it.”

“That was a very Droid or Pezzy thing to say. I think they are rubbing off on you Puffer.” That caused everyone to pause then burst out laughing. Grizzy agreed with me.

9:42 PM – The Incident

It started harmless—Puffer and Pezzy tossing a pillow. Then Grizzy got involved. Then Droid dove onto the bed mid-throw like it was WWE.

Five minutes later, all five of us were in a pillow warfare free-for-all.

“TRUCE!” I yelled, ducking behind the bed. “TRUCE BEFORE SOMEONE HITS THE—”

BANG.

A pillow nailed the lamp. It wobbled, tilted dangerously… but didn’t fall.

We all froze. Then Droid whispered, “That was sick,” and it set everyone off laughing again.

10:30 PM

We were sort of calming down. Max was scrolling his phone, I was sipping Puffer’s coffee (which was still awful) in the armchair, Grizzy was watching food videos, and Droid was sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, scrolling memes.

Out of nowhere, Puffer leaned back in the desk chair, looked around, and said with total seriousness:

“I’m telling you… this is what pussy sounds like.”

Grizzy almost spat his drink. I almost fell out of the chair. Pezzy just stared.

Droid? He threw himself backward dramatically, groaning, “I can’t be here anymore. You are never going to let me live that down are you?”

11:45 PM – Lights Out (Kind of)

‘Lights out’ was a joke. The second it got quiet, someone would snicker, and the whole room would spiral into laughter again.

I ended up moving the armchair and desk chair to where the desk chair wouldn’t move facing the armchair. That way I can put my feet up on the desk chair and almost lay down.

At some point, I ended up curled against the armchair acting like I was sleeping, Grizzy snoring softly, Puffer mumbling to himself about “room operations,” and Droid whisper-singing some ridiculous made-up song annoying the hell out of Pezzy who had to deal with it right next to him. 

Tomorrow morning, we'll be on a plane back home.

But tonight? Five friends, no sleep, and a hotel room that was definitely getting talked about by housekeeping in the morning. I wrote a metal note to leave a note with twenty bucks as an apology to housekeeping.

Next Morning – 5:12 AM

The alarm went off like a war siren.

Groans erupted instantly.

Grizzy buried his face under a pillow. “No. Absolutely not. Cancel the flight. I live here now.”

Puffer, ever the responsible one, was already up and checking the time on his phone. “We have to leave in thirty minutes. Everyone move.”

Droid sat up half way off the bed, hair looking like he’d been electrocuted. “Do planes still fly if you’re not ready? Asking for me.”

Pezzy dragged himself out of bed, grabbed his bag, and looked at me like we’d just come back from a week stranded. “If I don’t get McDonald’s at the airport, I’m not making it home.”

Airport Chaos – 6:08 AM

Somehow, all five of us made it to the gate without losing a bag or each other. Puffer was the only one holding it together—he had everyone’s boarding passes in one hand and a coffee in the other like a stressed dad.

Grizzy kept mumbling about ‘just closing my eyes for one second’ on the plane.

Droid almost got in trouble for trying to film a TikTok while walking through TSA.

Pezzy and I were just… existing. Barely.

Flight – 7:02 AM

Five minutes after takeoff, Grizzy was out cold.

Ten minutes later, Droid was asleep in the most uncomfortable, pretzel-like position imaginable.

Puffer was watching a documentary. Sadly none of us could get seats right next to each other but I had a clear view of everyone from my aisle seat. Puffer being in the row across the aisle from me. Pezzy also had an aisle seat but a couple rows ahead and we would occasionally play rock, paper, scissors with each other.

That was until I was too tired and just put my headphones on and dosed off listening to some music from a playlist I created.

The flight was quiet. No pillow fights. No yelling. Just exhausted silence. Broken from the occasional murmur or baby squeal.

Next Day – 11:07 AM

We all got home safe. All thanks to Puffer aka ‘dad’.

The recovery sleep was real.

We all ended up crashing at our own places after landing, but by late morning the next day, the five of us were piled into my living room.

Pezzy took the couch with his laptop, Puffer sat cross-legged on the floor, Grizzy had his hood up, and Droid was leaning so far back in the recliner I thought it might tip.

Footage Review – 12:03 PM

We hooked my TV up to Puffer’s camera and started going through all the footage from the trip.

“Okay, but look—” Pezzy paused the screen on a blurry frame of Droid mid-fall.

“That’s art,” Droid said proudly.

Grizzy was crying laughing at clips from the lake, Puffer kept noting timestamps for ‘potential montage moments,’ and I couldn’t stop smiling at how much fun we’d had.

By the time we finished, we had a rough idea of what the outcome video was going to look like—equal parts chaos, stupidity, and strangely wholesome moments.

Then we went through my footage for my channel vlog and snippets for Pezzy’s channel.

It took us almost three hours to fast forward through all the footage and pick parts we needed to cut but doing this together will help cut back on my editing time. I had almost ten hours of footage from our two week trip. I marked some clips that Pezzy wanted in his montage of the trip.

The Fourth Planning - 3:22 PM

We already knew Tyler’s 4th of July party was coming. But since the camping trip is over it felt so much closer.

“I’m telling you,” Grizzy said, “this party’s going to be more chaotic than the cabin trip.”

“Good,” Droid grinned. “We need fireworks and pool content.”

Puffer shook his head. “We need safe fireworks and pool content.”

Pezzy nudged me with a smirk. “And lots of cameras.”

I just grinned. “Oh, I’m bringing three. However, it will absolutely suck editing the Canada trip and then having to edit the Fourth of July trip. I’ll try to record just a tiny bit less.”

Chapter Text

July 2nd – 4:47 PM

Status: Decompressed. Slightly functional again. At Tyler’s.

After three hours of scrubbing through footage and making notes, the living room of Tyler's house looked like a war room. Empty snack bags on the coffee table, laptops and chargers tangled together, and Grizzy passed out halfway through a bag of pretzels.

Puffer stretched, cracking his back. “Okay. I think we’ve got everything we need. No more rewinding the same three minutes of Droid screaming about sticky floors.”

“That was cinema,” Droid defended, dramatically pointing at the paused frame on my TV.

I shut my laptop, sighing. “Alright, footage is handled. Editing schedule is basically: me drowning for the next two weeks.”

“Yeah, but imagine the payoff,” Pezzy said, giving me a side glance. “Canada trip vlog and then the 4th of July party. That’s like… channel gold.”

“Channel burnout,” I corrected, but I was smiling anyway.

July 2nd – 6:10 PM

Dinner turned into ordering takeout and arguing about what counted as “real food.” Grizzy demanded pizza. Droid argued for sushi. Puffer wanted something “balanced.” And everyone else didn’t care enough to bother.

We ended up with three different places, which felt on brand.

By the time the food came, we’d shifted from editing talk into life talk—what comes after trips, how much to film versus actually living in the moment, and the weird balance of being “content” but also just being… friends.

“You ever think about how different things feel now?” Grizzy asked through a mouthful of pizza. “Like—before, I’d just stream and hop off. Now it’s like… we do real-life shit.”

“Yeah,” Puffer agreed. “It’s nice.”

“Terrifying,” Droid added. “But nice.”

Pezzy nudged me. “Worth it though, right?”

I smiled into my slice of pizza. “Yeah. Worth it.”

July 2nd – 9:42 PM

Post-Dinner Drift

The house had settled into that comfortable lull only close friends could pull off. Tyler and Kelly disappeared into the kitchen, cleaning up stray boxes and bags while shaking their heads at the five of us acting like we hadn’t just destroyed their dining room table with takeout chaos.

Grizzy was sprawled across the floor, scrolling his phone, still eating pretzels on top of the mountain of pizza crusts. Droid had taken over the couch, dramatically insisting he was “testing for optimal napping angles” but was just… upside down. Puffer had actually migrated to the patio with Tyler to talk about grill setups and fireworks logistics for the party.

Which left Pezzy, Anthony, and I just chilling watching some random show on the TV. Pezzy was sitting in the corner of the couch with his laptop propped up on his knees  editing something small for his channel. While me and Anthony talked and joked about random things.

“I’m bored. Do you think we could convince Tyler to drive us to Walmart to fuck around and get pre party chaos footage?” I asked no one in particular. 

“That would be so fun. We need to ask.”  Droid responded sitting up. Grizzy and Anthony agreed. While Pezzy closed his laptop and mumbled an agreement. 

July 2nd – 10:12 PM

Walmart parking lot

Somehow we convinced Tyler to take us. Droid told me to get into a shopping cart and I agreed without hesitation while holding my camera. Droid started pushing me really fast, almost tipping me a couple of times. We were the first ones at the entrance so we waited for them. Droid kept trying to lift the front wheels of the cart off the ground with me still in it. Anthony showed up besides us next because everyone else was taking their sweet time. Droid finally got the wheels off the ground and caused the cart to tip and me to hit the ground hard. 

“You fucking bitch now my ass hurts.” I yelled at Droid smacking his arm.

July 2nd – 10:15 PM

Walmart Entrance Chaos

Droid was doubled over laughing while Anthony helped me up, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face.

“My ass is bruised, I swear,” I said, brushing off my shorts. “If I can’t sit tomorrow, that’s on you.”

Droid wiped a tear from his eye. “Worth it. Ten out of ten stunt. We should slow-mo that for the vlog.”

“Slow-mo my pain? You’re sick,” I shot back, but even I was laughing.

By the time Grizzy, Puffer, Pezzy,Tyler, and Kelly caught up, they found us still at the entrance.

“What the hell did I miss?” Grizzy asked, looking between the tipped cart and me limping dramatically.

“Y/N’s ass committed to the bit,” Droid said proudly.

July 2nd – 10:27 PM

Aisle Gremlins

Once inside, all hell broke loose.

Puffer and Tyler were the only ones attempting to keep order, grabbing actual useful things like drinks and paper plates. Meanwhile, Droid immediately disappeared with a Nerf gun he found in the toy aisle, ambushing us around corners.

Grizzy grabbed a giant inflatable pool float shaped like a flamingo and started dragging it through the store like it was his emotional support animal.

Anthony wandered into the candy aisle with me, filming as we debated the most “chaotic but iconic” snacks to buy for the pre-party.

“Swedish Fish,” he said, holding up a family-size bag.

“No, gummy worms. More versatile,” I argued, tossing them into the cart.

Pezzy appeared out of nowhere, holding three packs of glow sticks. “You’re both wrong. This is content.”

July 2nd – 11:01 PM

Checkout Disaster

By the time we reached checkout, our cart looked like a five-year-old had been given a blank check: glow sticks, soda, gummy worms, chocolate, chips, cheap sunglasses, a mini speaker, the flamingo floatie, and the Nerf gun Droid refused to put down. And the actual necessities Tyler and Puffer grabbed. Kelly being too busy recording and laughing her ass off to grab anything.

Tyler just stood there, card in hand, sighing like a disappointed dad. “You guys are actual menaces.”

Kelly was laughing so hard she had to step away.

We filmed the whole chaotic pile going onto the conveyor belt. The cashier gave us the exact look of someone deciding not to ask questions.

July 2nd – 11:34 PM

Back at Tyler’s

Back at the house, we dumped everything in the living room. Glow sticks cracked to life instantly. Droid was already dual-wielding Nerf guns. Grizzy was sprawled across the flamingo float, refusing to move.

I set my camera on the counter, catching the entire scene while Pezzy flopped down next to me, smirking.

“Worth it?” he asked.

I grinned, cracking a glow stick like it was a mic drop. “Of course.”

July 3rd – 9:14 AM

Arrival Day

The house was buzzing before half of us were even fully awake. Tyler was already in host mode, pacing around with coffee in hand and muttering about “logistics” ready to start driving to pick people up from the airport. Kelly had music going in the kitchen while setting up breakfast.

The six of us from last night (still running on glow-stick energy and not enough sleep) waking up. Grizzy came down wearing sunglasses indoors, Droid was humming some nonsense song, Pezzy was carrying the leftover Walmart bags, Anthony, Puffer, and I have been awake for an hour and a half. I’ve been in the kitchen talking with and helping out Kelly in the kitchen. Puffer, Tyler, and Anthony have been sitting at the kitchen island talking about plans after.

July 3rd – 10:02 AM

Airport Runs Begin

Tyler downed the rest of his coffee, grabbed his keys, and muttered, “Alright, time to collect the zoo animals.”

Kelly smirked. “Be nice. They’re our zoo animals.”

The first run was Smii7y, John, and Matt. The second they stepped through the door with their bags, the entire vibe in the house tilted sideways into even more chaos than last night.

Kryoz immediately dropped his suitcase and declared, “This is my house now.”

Blarg found the flamingo float still in the living room and climbed onto it like a throne.

Smii7y set his bag down, looked at the Nerf gun on the floor, picked it up, and instantly started a shootout with Droid.

By the time Tyler came back from his second run—this time with Scott, Chrissy, and a few others —the place was already vibrating with noise. Kelly just leaned against the counter with her coffee, shaking her head as the volume doubled in under two minutes.

July 3rd – 12:47 PM

House = Full

By the third and final airport run, the house had reached its maximum capacity for chaos. Every new arrival added another layer of noise. Bags piled up in the hallway. Voices overlapped. Someone had already cranked music on the TV, and no one knew who had the aux.

Grizzy had migrated to the couch with a bag of Doritos, running live commentary like a sports announcer as each person walked in. “Here comes Scott, looking like he hasn’t slept in three years! Crowd goes wild!”

Meanwhile, Droid and Smii7y were still locked in their Nerf battle, now upgraded with the second gun someone found under the couch. Foam darts littered the floor like confetti.

Matt was still camped on the flamingo float, shouting, “No one shall dethrone me!” until John dumped a blanket over his head and claimed victory.

Kelly gave up trying to maintain order and just filmed it, sipping her coffee like she was watching a nature documentary.

July 3rd – 2:20 PM

Strategic Refuel

Eventually, food was the only thing that slowed everyone down. Pizza boxes lined the counter, and people sat wherever there was space—chairs, floor, armrests, even the kitchen island.

“Alright,” Tyler said between bites, sounding like a weary general, “ground rules. Tomorrow is the Fourth. Tonight, no one burns the house down. Got it?”

Everyone nodded solemnly.

Then Smii7y immediately pointed at Droid. “That was directed at you.”

“False accusations,” Droid said, mouth full of pizza. “But fair.”

“Are you forgetting what you and John did to the kitchen of the cabin?” Puffer asked, directed at Smii7y.

“Hey! Don’t bring me into this, I have done nothing yet on this trip.” John argued back against Puffer. 

“Well it’s hard to do something when you literally just showed up a couple hours ago.” I said to John.

“That reminds me no one but the girls, myself, or Puffer is allowed in the kitchen to cook anything.” Tyler said loud enough everyone could hear. “Got it.”

July 3rd – 4:03 PM

Controlled Chaos (Barely)

The kitchen decree got a mix of groans and laughter, but no one dared argue with Tyler in host mode. Smii7y pretended to sulk, John swore under his breath, and Droid loudly whispered, “Kitchen rebellion incoming,” like he was planning a coup.

Kelly just pointed a finger at him. “Don’t even think about it. You disobey the one rule: I will make you sleep outside.”

The afternoon broke off into smaller groups. Some people dragged chairs into the backyard to bask in the sun. Grizzy, Scott, and Matt set up a Mario Kart tournament that quickly got way too heated, trash talk echoing through the living room. Smii7y and Droid (still at it with the Nerf guns) had escalated their fight to involve flipping couch cushions for “cover.”

Meanwhile, I found myself on the patio table with Pezzy, Anthony, and Puffer, scrolling through the Walmart footage. Pezzy leaned over, pointing at a freeze frame of me tipping out of the cart.

“This clip alone could carry a whole video,” he said with a grin.

“Glad my ass pain is so entertaining,” I muttered, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

Smii7y and John both wished they were here to experience that. I told them they would be doing the same thing as us but Smii7y pushing and John in the cart. They both agreed but also agreed it would still be hella funny if it happened to them as well.

July 3rd – 6:41 PM

Dinner Attempt #1

Tyler and Kelly handled the main course food, the grill and sides while Puffer played sous-chef, the three of them running a surprisingly smooth operation compared to the rest of us. Everyone else either hovered nearby or hovered dangerously close to causing trouble.

Smii7y tried to sneak a hotdog off the grill with a spatula and nearly lost his wrist to Tyler’s death glare.

John suggested “deep frying Oreos on the side” until Kelly smacked him with a dish towel.

Grizzy kept opening the cooler just to announce, “We’re low on Dr Pepper!” even though we weren’t.

Eventually, we all gathered in the backyard with paper plates stacked high. Sunset painted the sky orange and pink, and the chaos mellowed into laughter and half-yelled conversations across the yard.

July 3rd – 9:02 PM

Pre-Party Eve

As night set in, someone cracked open the glow sticks left over from Walmart, and the yard lit up like a rave. Droid dual-wielded them like lightsabers. Grizzy wore five around his neck like championship medals.

Music pumped from the Bluetooth speaker, and a circle formed around a makeshift firepit where a few people tried (and mostly failed) to roast marshmallows. Smii7y set one on fire and swung it like a torch.

“This feels like the calm before the storm,” Pezzy said, leaning back in his chair, glow stick dangling from his wrist.

I nodded, watching the group banter and laugh under the flicker of the firelight. “Yeah. To be fair everything involving everyone together feels like the calm before the storm because there is always a storm. Tomorrow’s gonna be insane.”