Chapter Thirty-Five
Dan
W ith me being in the moonboot and on crutches now, Rye and Lowell don’t have to take care of me so much. I can piss by myself, hobble into the kitchen to make a sandwich, and feed the cats.
I genuinely think I could make it the whole day on my own, but Sejin doesn’t trust me not to push things too hard—especially now that the doctor has said weights are okay.
He told me that so long as I’m very careful, I can start small.
He’d also said the hangboard is doable, so long as I never let my leg bang against the doorway or the floor.
Today, though, I only do the weights for half the time I probably should, and the hangboard for three-fourths of the time, because I have a lot I want to learn and figure out before Rye or Lowell shows up to mommy me.
The first thing I do is start one of Sejin’s KPop playlists on my phone. As the energizing music fills the living room, I settle on the sofa and begin my research.
First, I look at what folks in the climbing community are offering up: videos of climbs, videos of training, some climbing-related interviews, a few comic relief endeavors, but nothing overly personal.
I’m not a huge fan of opening up, but when I compare what climbers are doing to the KPop VLives I’ve watched with Sejin, I can see a real difference.
Next, I download the VLive app to my phone and open up the pages for Astro, BTS, and a few other groups.
I watch several of their translated lives, making notes of what they talk about, how they hold themselves, and the ways they interact with the camera.
I’m not an actor by nature, and I’m not exactly the expressive sort, but I’m honest. And from what I can tell, the honesty, the sense of genuine connection that these guys offer, is key to folks liking them.
I might not be likable, but I’m always genuine, for better or worse. Some folks might enjoy that. There’s no reason to assume they won’t. Sejin does.
The next step is obviously to decide what social media options to pursue because I don’t have time to get good at all of them. Assuming social media is something you can “get good” at…
Whatever the case, like with climbing, I need to be focused.
TikTok seems to be the direction the teens are going—easy for quick, hot takes.
YouTube, like Sejin says, seems to ask for a slicker look, and for that I’ll possibly need to consider cameras beyond my phone, and editing software.
But maybe not. Maybe I can make it work, especially if I stick to livestreaming.
I make a note to look into all that as well.
By the time Lowell arrives to make sure I haven’t fallen and destroyed my leg further, I’m deep into my research and note-taking, to the extent that he says little.
He sits down on the sofa next to me and scrolls through his own phone, answering some of my questions now and again about how the various climbers he knows use their social media, and eventually he helps me settle on short form content as my focus for now and work up to a more polished YouTube long form.
“Link them all together, and you might be able to grab some attention from the right places.”
“Think I can find sponsors?”
“I don’t know about that, but you’ll find purpose until you’re climbing again, and that’s probably just as important.”
I can’t agree more.
So, on I go.
*
Sejin
“Sejinie!” Jeremiah runs toward me on his little legs, his smile big and wide, until he gets a good look at me. He stops dead in his tracks, almost falling over in his rush to not get closer. His mouth crumples and tears well in his eyes. “Nooooo!” he cries. “Your hairrrrr!”
I wince, the wound of my stupid decision still raw, but I put on a reassuring smile before getting down to his level. “I cut it, buddy. But I’m still your Sejinie. It’s all right.”
He stares at me almost as skeptically as Sarah Kate does. She glares and struggles to get out of Leenie’s arms. She’s started walking early, Martin had told me while we were out on the jobs earlier, and she’s been quite the handful from what I understand.
“Look,” I say, inching closer to Jeremiah and reaching for his hand.
He gives it to me reluctantly. I place it in my hair, and he begins to pet me like I’m a dog.
His eyes grow less wary. “And feel under here,” I say, guiding him to feel the buzzed hair beneath.
He gleefully giggles and rubs his fingers on it over and over.
I smile and pull him into a hug, while he continues to fondle my new hair.
“I’ve missed you, bud. Have you missed me? ”
“Yes!” he exclaims, laying a sticky kiss on my cheek. “Come back? Please?”
I squeeze and release him before rising to take Sarah Kate from Leenie, who is looking even more harried than when I lived with them.
Maybe me moving out hasn’t helped her as much as she might have once imagined, but at least she can’t tell herself her frustration is my fault.
Not that I ever felt unwanted in their home, but I prefer knowing she’s not upset that I’m still crashing on her sofa.
Sarah Kate leans away from me for a moment, but then lunges forward, wraps her hands in my hair, and tugs. I grimace, but let her do it, and then she gives my cheek an open-mouthed, wet kiss, and I laugh.
“Please come back, Sejinie,” Jeremiah continues to plead.
“I live with Dan now,” I remind him, giving Sarah Kate over to her father so he can greet her with raspberries to her neck, making her giggle.
Jeremiah predictably frowns and crosses his little arms over his chest. He’d probably bite Dan right now if he were around. “I love you, though,” Jeremiah whines. “So you should come back home.”
“Dan loves me too,” I offer as the reason I can’t return. Leenie makes a small noise like she doubts it, but I ignore her. “Plus, he’s hurt right now, so he really needs me.”
“ I need you, Sejinie,” Jeremiah murmurs, grabbing hold of my right leg and looking up at me. His sweet eyes are so sincere. Is there any love purer than a child’s?
“I’ll try to come around more often,” I say, though I have no idea how I’ll fit that promise into my already overscheduled calendar.
If we could get a break with regard to money, then I might have more free time.
Martin and Leenie can’t afford to pay me to babysit—I’ve always done it for free—and now I can’t afford to do anything for free.
Today was great, though. I managed to pocket some extra cash, paid directly to me by Martin’s boss, after going out on some complex jobs with them today.
It’s always good to have money in the bank, but money in my actual wallet is even sexier right about now.
I’ll use it to buy the next two weeks’ groceries, and so long as Dan doesn’t get snacky now that he’s working out more, it should be all right.
Inside, Leenie serves me and Martin warmed-up plates from the dinner she put together earlier in the day—chicken pot pie. I dig in, feeling a little guilty about Dan missing out on this creamy, chicken-y goodness.
After I’ve entertained Jeremiah for a few minutes, he disappears into the living room to heed the siren song of a Paw Patrol episode, giving me some peace while I eat.
Sarah Kate, for her part, is also a fan of the show it seems, because she half-crawls, half-toddles into the living area to join her brother.
“So,” Leenie says, having dispensed with the need to actively parent her children for the time being. “What’s the situation really like with you? I’ve never seen you like this. Exhausted, rings under your eyes, and not from staying out all night doing God knows what with God knows who, or Dan.”
I smother a laugh at the “God knows what with God knows who, or Dan,” in a tone like Dan’s actually a worse choice than hookups with strangers.
Leenie is an interesting one. I know she was scared and worried when Dan fell, but she’s back to thinking I can do better.
Even if I can , it’s not as if I’d leave him now, and I don’t want “better.” I want Dan.
She’s going to learn to accept that one day.
“The situation is none of your business,” Martin opines before taking a big bite of pot pie and moaning appreciatively. “This is delicious, babe. Thank you.”
Leenie seems torn between being annoyed that he scolded her and being pleased that he likes the pie she made, so she settles for ignoring him. “Is he even doing anything to help himself? Or is it all on you?”
“I don’t know why you act like Dan is lazy,” I say, putting down my fork and wondering if Leenie and I are about to have our first fight—barring our frequent passive-aggressive squabbles. “You can’t be the kind of athlete he is and be lazy.”
Martin puts a hand over hers and gives her a look. She sighs and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, resembling Jeremiah quite a lot for a moment. “Fine,” she concedes. “I’ll admit that he was hurt badly and probably needed babying at first, but surely now he can help out?”
“Doing what?”
“A job maybe?”
“What job can he get when he’s not supposed to put any weight on his leg?”
“Something online. Call center work. I don’t know. But he needs to start contributing.”
I take another bite of food to keep from snapping at her, but Martin does it for me.
“Leenie, babe, back off.”
She lets out a slow breath and then nods. “Alright. I’m sure you and Dan have it all under control.”
“We don’t actually,” I admit. “But, as of this morning, Dan is working on a plan to start bringing in some money. It might take some time for it to pay off, but I think he’s onto something.”
I don’t know if he is or not, but I’m not going to sit here and let Leenie talk about Dan like he’s just lounging on the sofa eating bonbons while I work my ass off.
He’s healing, and he’s been in pain, and he’s got appointments with doctors and dentists. He’s grieving his failure and trying to find some purpose again. Long shot as that may be…