Chapter 4
Magnus
I find it intriguing that the first video on our fan site garnered fifteen subscriptions since last night.
I haven’t told anyone but Dr. Marconni about the site yet, and I only sent her the link so she would understand that I was serious about my threat to leave the university if the ethics board decided to get involved.
Oh. Hmm. Interesting. One of the subscribers is the chancellor of the university.
I wonder what he thinks of this side-hustle.
I’ll schedule a meeting with him today or tomorrow, that way I can ask if he’s joined in order to stop me or if he’s perhaps a closeted gay or bisexual man.
Considering his prodigious wife, I would suspect closeted, at least to the general public—I doubt he has secrets from his wife.
Amani would be very supportive if Mehcad was queer, and she would probably encourage him to seek a paramour if he wanted a male companion in addition to their relationship.
Regardless, fifteen subscriptions to a brand new account on a platform with stiff competition is far better than I expected before I had a chance to email the link to a student who will spread it like wildfire.
I haven’t decided which student yet, because I have to make sure it isn’t one currently in any of my classes, and I have to ensure that the email cannot be traced back to me.
Not that that’s hard. I’ve sent emails from the accounts of senators before…
Bored Magnus shouldn’t be making decisions, because now I’m really tempted to hack into the student union’s email to send my link out. Honestly, it would take me two minutes.
Yep. I’m going to do it. Not right now, obviously.
We first need to post a video more along the lines of the format that we’re going to be using henceforth, and I really ought to make sure the chancellor is on the same page as me.
He knows where the money comes from, and as long as I keep bringing in the funding that currently exists because of my work, he’ll make sure everyone bends over backwards to accommodate me.
Money talks louder than ethics, unfortunately.
I purchased and have been practicing with the camera equipment and editing software I bought for this business venture, so I check the charge on the camera and then the time.
Our amended calendar has a short adventure scheduled every Saturday morning.
We’re supposed to leave the dorm and go spend some time together out and about.
This is the part of the video that our viewers are eventually supposed to see as our dates.
They’re supposed to be invested in us falling in love, so while the format is different than the usual tease and fuck that most channels have, I think it will appeal to romantically inclined women, and that’s our target audience.
I’m trying to get a subscription base of working women who have the surplus income to spend on long term subscriptions to our channel.
It’s a sustainable business model, and it will make for an interesting view into the sociology of women in groups united for a purpose.
I’ll be downloading and using the comments on each video as data for my potential research.
I don’t know if there’s something worth writing about yet, but I think there will be.
We only have one comment, and it’s from the chancellor’s account. It’s simply a well-wish: Good luck with your research, Magnus.
Of course, I will have to figure out a way to organize the comments, but I don’t have to do that yet.
Statistically, fewer than ten percent of our audience will comment, though significantly more will participate if it’s a live stream.
We aren’t scheduled for that until we reach five hundred subscribers.
“Magnus,” Trent calls as he walks into my room. “We’re supposed to be vlogging about a trip to the farmer’s market, aren’t we?”
Grinning, because once Trent decided he was in, he committed to it, I push record on the camera and point it at him, walking backwards as we head out of our first floor dorm suite. “Farmer’s market bro-date is a go. What are we hoping to find today?”
Trent uses his middle finger to blow the camera kiss. “It’s a farmer’s market. I’m hoping for produce.”
I giggle at his deadpan delivery. “I’m hoping one of the farmers has the time, skill, and wherewithal to bring baked goods. Homemade baked goods are provably the best kinds of baked goods.”
“Provably? Is there scientific research backing up this claim?” he questions, taking the camera and pointing it at me.
I give the camera the professor-smile I use with my students.
“I think a poll done world-wide would present enough data sets to prove the truth of that claim. Homemade is better because humans are amazing. People in happy homes tend to have at least one recipe that they claim is better than what you can get anywhere else, and even if it’s not a universal truth, what actually matters in opinion polls are the opinions of the participants.
And I think it’s nice that families create recipes that are unique to their own family.
Those are the kinds of things that make up the roots we talk about when we say a person is putting down roots. ”
I didn’t expect to get philosophical about baked goods, but these are the kinds of low-stakes conversations that I get to have with Trent.
They don’t matter, except that they do because this is what real friendships are built on.
Catching them on camera for our business plan is just the icing on the cake, so to speak.
“I don’t think we need a poll. Your assessment validates your claim, and even if it doesn’t, it does. I think we all want roots like that. Actually, we already have that root in the bag.”
We’ve made it to his car, so I take the camera back, get in, and point it back at him after I’m buckled. “Ok, I’ll bite, what are you talking about?”
Trent shoots me a smirk through the camera lens before turning to back out of the parking space. “Our movie night snack mix. We made that up together.”
“For the curious, it’s puffed corn cereal, Cheetos, and M&Ms mixed up in a bowl and consumed with water or a coke,” I say from behind the camera.
“And it’s the best movie night snack ever,” Trent winks.
I stop the recording and save it, turning off the camera to save the battery. “Even though this is for an audience, it’s fun. I’m glad you decided to go ahead with the project.”
Trent shrugs as he takes the turn out of the parking lot. “I was a little worried it would be weird between us, but everything feels normal. It’s just another thing we’re doing together, except this time we’re going to make some money from it. Did you upload the video from last night?”
“I did. We have fifteen subscribers already. One of them is the university’s chancellor.”
Trent opens his mouth, closes it, glances over at me, and then returns his attention to the road. “Are we going to get kicked out of school?”
“No. I’m far too valuable an asset for the university.
At this point, not only am I drawing in grants, I’m also a draw for students.
My classes are in high demand and students are beginning to come to the university because they’ve heard about me and want to take my classes.
I’ve also been approached for several speaking tours during spring break and the summer, and unless they want to lose all that, they’re not going to kick me out because I have a porn account.
And if anyone so much as breathes the wrong way toward you, you tell me so I can shut that shit down.
” I learned that phrase from Trent, and I think it’s a wonderful way to express my very real ability to stop someone else in their tracks.
Trent shoots me a side glance with a half-smile on his lips. “I’ll let you know. Are you signing up for the speaking tours?”
I like how he trusts me to keep him safe academically.
I think another person, and probably most people, would be inclined to try to deal with it themselves instead of relying on others more qualified to do the work.
There are many, many reasons that Trent and I get along, but his incredible attitude toward his ego is one of the most attractive things about him.
Does Trent Bressler have an ego? The size of Jupiter. Does that mean he can’t see past it? Nope. He’s not humble, but he isn’t an egotistical asshole about it, and since I also have an ego at least as big as his, it makes our friendship comfortable.
“We have a business trip planned for spring break. It’s supposed to be the first time we trade handies, and we are supposed to be ‘making a drunk video.’ Obviously we can be somewhat inebriated for the video and should be, as long as we stick to the script we have planned.
So, no, I won’t be taking on a speaking engagement unless there’s one in Cancun during spring break. ”
“We’re doing the Cancun spring break thing?” he asks, surprised.
“I hope so. It depends on if we can get two hundred monthly subscribers this month. Otherwise, the business won’t have the money for the expense.”
“Better work that marketing plan you have going,” he laughs. “I’ve never been to spring break in Cancun, but I’m not going to say no to it.”
“If it’s with you, I think I would have fun taking a destination vacation targeted at our age demographic.” I’d have fun with Trent anywhere, but I know he would really like Cancun.
Trent chuckles and shakes his head the way he does when something I say or do amuses him.
I used to be concerned when he would do things like this, because I knew it meant I’d done something out of the ordinary.
I asked him after a week of living with him because I couldn’t take the pressure of trying to figure out what I was saying or doing wrong.
“Why are you laughing at me like that? What did I say that was wrong? I can’t learn to be better socially if you just laugh at me instead of telling me what I need to fix.”
Trent gave me a quizzical look and frowned.
“I wasn’t laughing at you, Magnus. I was expressing my affection for you.
I like who you are. You don’t have to change to become more palatable to me, and anyone in your life who thinks you need to before they can be happy with you is toxic as fuck and you should shut that shit down.
Be happy with yourself and who you are, and fuck anyone who doesn’t value you as you are right now. ”
And that conversation cinched his status in my life. Trent Bressler is going to be my best friend for the rest of our lives, and this might be two friends starting a business to him, but to me it’s a gamble on the future I want to have: me and Trent, together for life.