Chapter 15
“HOLA, FRIENDS! I AM DIEGO and with me is my roommate, Ellie! She’s very grown-up and helpful and teaching us how to live like we are not animals. And we’re teaching her how to be strong! Ellie, flex with me!”
“As we work together, she will get bigger and stronger! And I will get better at cooking… and maybe a little bigger, too?” Diego wraps his arms around himself in a hug, shimmying his hips. “More muscle means more Diego to love!”
I smile. He is charm incarnate.
The kits arrived late yesterday afternoon, which we would have known to anticipate had Diego checked his email since Tuesday.
Built Box had been more than happy for me to join, despite my “negligible online presence”—their words—and wanted to get the ball rolling.
They included the filming releases we signed, scanned, and sent back, and a more detailed contract for Diego, which he spent some time with while I was unpacking.
The base offer was bumped up to complimentary meal kits for the whole household, but in bigger news, he’ll be seeing a percentage of sales for redeemed coupon codes exclusive to his viewers.
As Diego continues his introductory bit, I do a final inventory of the ingredients.
Today’s kit is a take on traditional Middle Eastern kofta, combining beef with onion, herbs, and a spice mix, rolled into balls that can be grilled or, because I am unwilling to introduce fire, baked.
The process is similar to the meatballs we made last week, the herb chopping and onion grating well within Diego’s wheelhouse, leaving him free to engage with his audience.
The guy is a natural. He maintains a steady stream of chatter as we take on each element of the recipe, answering questions in the chat and injecting moments of humor, and I only occasionally have to redirect his attention to the food prep.
When he warns viewers not to overhandle the meat when they roll their balls, the aside inspires a burst of raunchy commentary from the chat. Big “balls” humor crowd.
Prepped and rolled, the balls go in the oven, and as we prepare the accompanying side salad and dressing, he continues to engage. There are many dance breaks.
Then, the moment of truth. When the balls have cooled, we each take a bite. They’re decent but underseasoned; the salt in the spice mix was not enough to carry the flavor. I chew and wait for Diego, who’s front and center, to respond with his standard sunshine.
But his brows come down as he swallows. “I need more flavor. It’s good, but tastes good for you, you know?
And sometimes that’s what you want.” He smiles, dreamily.
“I feel that way when I have a delicious soup, and it makes me feel cozy, but without being too heavy. But this is the kind of healthy tasting that feels like something is missing. Oh!” He turns and points to me.
“Ellie, the bottle you used the other day, to give that chicken soup more… what was it? Umami!”
“Fish sauce?” I say, worried about what his sponsors might say about him adding ingredients to something they claim to be all-inclusive.
“It could be helpful. Come, friends!” He plucks the tablet from the stand.
“Let’s go on a field trip to the refrigerator.
” He crosses to the fridge, pulling it open, but careful not to expose the camera to the inside.
He wags his finger at the lens. “No, no, no! No other sponsors or name brands! This is all about Built Box.” He winks.
“And some experimentation.” He plucks the fish sauce from the shelf in the door.
“This will boost the flavor, and… ah! I think you’d also want something with spice to step it up.
Everyone has a little spice on hand, yes?
” He dangles a bottle of sriracha in front of the tablet. “Let’s give it a go!”
He shakes a few drops of fish sauce onto the balls we’ve sampled, following with a dab of hot sauce. He raises his to the tablet. “Round two!”
I toss back the rest of mine, and—oh, wow! “Diego, this is perfect!”
He nods, smiling as he chews. “So much better! And, friends, you saw that it only took a tiny bit of each? A little bit goes a long way with flavor!”
“Is that dinner?” asks Alistair, appearing in the frame. He’s clad solely in a tiny pair of shorts and his house slippers. I half expect him to be wearing Mushu again; he’s been taking the plant for regular “tours” around the common areas.
I wheel on him. “Dude, you can’t be coming in here in your man panties! This is live!”
“Oh, really?” Alistair moves between us, peering at the tablet, but we’re hardly visible amid the sudden barrage of messages from viewers and floating red hearts.
“Huh. Cool.” He waves, then points to the waistband of his microscopic undies.
“These aren’t man panties, or whatever. They’re Italian.
I’m in a campaign for them coming up. Should—” He turns to me.
“Should I, like, name drop them or something?”
“Let’s keep this focused on one merchant,” I say, though in the chat BUTTStough95 demands, drop the deets bro!
“Rad.” He peers at the balls on the cooling rack. “These any good?”
“Yes! Let me enhance one for you,” says Diego, wielding his sauce bottles.
He administers them to a ball, and steps back so our roommate’s the only one on screen.
As Alistair considers the offering, Diego produces a small remote from his pocket and uses it to make the camera zoom in on his friend, altering the angle so that when he takes a bite, it’s just Alistair’s immaculate features, his eyes closing as he savors his sample.
The chat is alight with fire emojis and inappropriate suggestions for what else he might put in his mouth.
Some people should not be allowed online.
The camera zooms out as Alistair swallows and opens his eyes.
“Yo,” he says, and holds up a hand for a high five.
Diego slaps his palm before they grip one another’s hands, pulling one another close enough to bump chests; the ultimate in dudely approval.
“This is awesome,” he determines, and they separate.
“So, is this one of the loading kits or one for a cut cycle?”
“Excellent question!” Diego cheers. “Built Box has versions of this kit for both. This was the loading one, so it came with ground beef, which has a higher fat content. But if you want a leaner option, you can choose ground chicken or turkey!”
“Sweet.” Alistair leans toward the tablet again. “Hah! People want me to take off my underwear.”
“Sorry, friends. This is not that kind of livestream.” Diego says, sounding politely empathetic. “But if you’d like us to take something off, how about 30 percent off your first month’s subscription with Built Box using the code STAYSTRONGMYFRIENDS at checkout?”
I give him a thumbs-up; that was a solid transition from sexual solicitation to self-promotion.
I glance at the checklist of Built Box’s requests for the stream, but the guys covered the last items. “Diego, I think we’re done here.
Thank you again for joining us!” I say, and step out of frame, grabbing my phone to cue Diego’s chosen outro music.
I hit Play, and Diego picks up a quick series of very hip-focused dance steps.
“Until next time, stay strong, my friends!” He flexes again, Alistair and I joining him, then we are out.
For a moment, we stand in silence, the only sound the music still playing on my phone.
Then Diego lets out a whoop and sweeps me into a rib-crushing hug. “We did it!”
We hear back from Built Box in less than a minute. Diego puts them on speaker so I can contribute, but the conversation is largely an onslaught of praise and bro-speak. I envision a board room filled with beefy dudes giving one another high fives and exchanging back slaps.
Eventually, a female voice chimes in. “Ellie? Hello there! This is Veronica. I’ve been coordinating with Diego. As these continue, will you be participating?”
“Only as long as I’m needed,” I say, not sure if the angle in her question was hoping for more or less involvement on my part.
“For now, that would be ideal. You work great together. We’ll see what the numbers are ultimately, if there’s any viral traction, and what feedback we get.
But for now, you have an excellent dynamic.
Very… mentor-mentee. And your friend…” She clears her throat.
“Alistair, was it? He could be a good addition. Coming in, testing things out. In, ah, whatever he happens to be wearing…”
Or not wearing, I think, casting a glance at the guest in question. He’s loaded up one of my nice bowls with salad and a serving of balls and leans against the kitchen counter, seemingly unaware of his objectification. “In this house, it’s pretty much a guarantee.”
“As long as it feels organic!” There’s some murmuring in the back of the call, and Veronica replies in a terse, hushed tone before clearing her throat. “We were also wondering if Diego’s employer, Mr. Hammond, might be interested in participating.”
Diego’s face falls. He casts me a wary glance. “He doesn’t do—”
“We’ll work on him,” I say. Diego bugs his eyes at me, but I press my index finger to my lips. “He’s been lying low, but I think he’d be willing to make an exception for our man Diego.”
“That’s right! Our man Diego!” cheers one of the men, and the receiver once again erupts in a cacophony of dudely enthusiasm.
Eventually, the cheers wind down, and Veronica wraps up the call. She doesn’t say anything about the fish sauce.
Diego stares at his phone as the screen darkens, then goes black. He’d perked up slightly during the last round of cheers, but he hasn’t smiled since Veronica mentioned Ian.
I elbow him. “Congratulations. You did a tremendous job.”
“You really think so?” His voice is tentative.
“You have excellent instincts. You were right on about needing to boost the flavor, and fish sauce was inspired.”
He stands straighter. “Yeah?”