Chapter 01 RUNE
Rune’s metal is better than your metal: The fact of the matter is, Dreadful is overhyped, lacks consistency, and with their new “guitarist“
entering the fold whilst simultaneously selling out with Kingsport Records, I find it all to be a cash grab. You can’t change my mind. Dreadful is shit.
Headless Angels had more heart.
I hit send, grinning ear to ear, and watch the comment appear on my arch nemesis’s video.
If I had more time, I’d pop open a cold soda and wait for his reply. Behold Thy Horns has been the bane of my existence since I started my music review YouTube channel two years ago. Sure, the guy has been in the scene longer, but he’s got trash taste. You have to know what you’re talking about to be taken seriously in this line of work—or hobby. For a while, I was scared to show my face on camera. In a perfect world, no one should care how you express yourself, but I’ve been at the front lines of prejudice before, so I hesitated for a while.
It wasn’t until I finally stopped giving a fuck, showing my stunning face in all its glory online, that people started to listen, and my channel exploded.
The viewers love me and agree with my exceptional tastes.
Everyone except this asshole.
Sliding away from my PC, I rise from my chair and fish my purse out of my laundry hamper. It’s always where it ends up, no matter how much I try. My life is chaos in the best way. Not that anyone ever sees it, that would require trusting another human in my space. I’m not keen on doing that for some rando off Grindr. Dodging an empty perfume bottle and miscellaneous shoes, I hurry to the bathroom to check that my makeup is still intact after my near meltdown over that fucking video.
We are at war, Behold Thy Horns and I. He knows I post on Tuesdays and Thursdays, while he posts on any other day. It’s like…an unspoken agreement. However, because I have plans, he has taken advantage of my lack of posting. Now everyone will watch his garbage content instead of my perfect comeback video that I’m almost done editing. The fact that he posted his response video to last week’s internet brawl today has me nearly ready to cancel my plans.
But I won’t do that to Sadie.
When I saw the Instagram ad looking for queer folks to participate in stranger sessions, I almost kept scrolling. I have unrealistic expectations when it comes to dating and love—I know that I do. I want a partner who likes what I like while also being comfortable with how I look and possessing a cock. Long hair, big, strong arms, maybe even some of those sexy camo pants all the guys in bands wear. I want that, but queer.
Dating apps only go so far, and seldom have a candidate who fits the bill. I settle just to ensure I don’t get cobwebs on my nether bits. I know appearances aren’t everything, so that’s why I bit the bullet and applied for this…photography session. Going in blind, meeting a stranger, and essentially being matched based on shared interests seemed…nice. Perfect actually.
I won’t have to rely on my terrible picker and the monotony of swiping based on physical appearance. Doing this, I might have a real shot to meet someone I’m genuinely compatible with. The possibility has me rushing out of my little apartment. My online war will just have to wait until after the photoshoot.
The location where it’s all taking place isn’t too far from where I live, but I still drive faster than the speed limit. Initially, I thought about asking Sadie to do a beach shoot. After some consideration, though, I realized it was a bit cliché, and I really don’t enjoy sand. Plus, the closest beach to me is Redondo, and that place is a dump. So we settled for a park. I didn’t request any fancy getups or themes; I just asked that we keep it during the day. Sadie prefers to shoot during the golden hour.
After perusing her portfolio, I can see why. The lighting is stunning, but I have astigmatism and prefer to stay safely locked in my apartment at night. Driving into blinding light is a bad idea. It takes longer to get to the park than anticipated; traffic is always the worst in Southern California. And with our version of winter in full swing, people forget how to drive. Thankfully, it isn’t raining, just colder than usual.
I find a spot in the lot, tucked under a big tree, and hesitate. Excitement has given way to nerves and dread. This isn’t a date or anything, but these sessions are geared toward intimacy. What if my partner hates how I look or is freaked out? Sadie assured me that wouldn’t be the case and that there is zero possibility of hate in her sessions. With a shaky hand, I reapply my lip gloss and fluff my long teal curls. At least my eyeliner is pretty and makes the color pop.
Stop stalling. Get out there. The love of your life could be waiting. I nod along with my inner mantra and get out of the car.