Chapter 2
Keith's 'About Me' section simply read 'I like hovercycles and going fast.' It was probably pretty lacking and he should change it, but he didn't see the point. If it were more comprehensive, it might say that he was twenty-four, that he'd been the top pilot at his garrison but was kicked out because of 'bad attitude,' or that he worked at a bookstore now.
As he picked up the erotic romance novel someone had left in the children's section next to the Magic Treehouse books, Keith wished he'd kept his mouth shut more often in school. From ace pilot to this?
"Excuse me."
Keith turned at the voice and saw a teen standing behind him. "Yeah?"
The redhead shrugged one shoulder. "Where could I find college textbooks?"
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They weren't the college affiliated bookstore, but so many people came in asking for textbooks that the store had actually started stocking some. "Far wall, next to the bathrooms."
Which was actually the opposite answer to when people asked where the bathrooms were. 'Far wall, next to the textbooks.' Life's little oddities, he supposed.
"Thanks," and they wandered off in search of their textbooks.
Keith made his way toward the erotica shelf, picking up a few other books that had been left haphazardly on the wrong shelves as well along the way. He found the space where the book belonged and slid it in, then glanced at the two others he'd found to figure out where he was heading next. Young Adult Literature it seemed.
He'd only gone one shelf over when there was a rather loud crashing noise that made Keith jump. Flipping around, he saw a small mountain of a man waving his arms around in mild panic.
"Oh my gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh," he was saying as if one of the repetitions would rewind time and make him not knock over a display full of mini flashlights, animal pens, and slinkies.
The large man then knelt down on the ground to start righting the case and picking up the strewn items, as did his much thinner friend beside him with a teasing, "Underestimated your wingspan there, buddy?" Well, at least they were trying to fix their own mess.
"Sh-shut up," the big one said with a frown as Keith headed over to them. That just made his friend laugh.
Keith didn't say anything as he knelt down and also began to pick up the scattered items. Both men, about Keith's age it seemed, jumped at his sudden presence.
"Oh my god," the thinner one gasped. "You need a cat bell or something."
When Keith glanced up at him, he saw blue eyes, a long face, short hair, and warmly tanned skin that was rapidly turning pink. Keith had to admit he was kind of cute. He was also familiar, but not overly so. He'd probably come to the store before, maybe even asked Keith how to find a book.
"Why?" Keith asked at length. What would a cat bell do for him? "I don't have a cat."
The man's face was crimson now, and he got jerkily to his feet. "N-no reason. Nope. I'm gonna-" He pointed to the left with his right hand and to the right with his left hand, then turned 180 degrees and walked away.
Keith spared him a moment of confusion before going back to the task of picking up slinkies. The bigger young man had his arms full of stuff that he was attempting to put back into the rack in the same slots they'd been in before. Keith…actually really appreciated that.
They worked in semi-silence for several minutes as they collected the items and put them back in the display. The big man apologized every few seconds, though whether it was to Keith for knocking over the display or to the items he'd knocked over, Keith wasn't sure.
When it was all back in place, they both stood back and admired their handiwork. "I'm seriously super sorry about that."
"So you've said," Keith said. "About twenty times. I believe you."
The man motioned to the table of books next to them in a very controlled manner, eyeing the display warily as he did so. "It's just-This!" he exclaimed quietly.
Keith looked at the table. It was the New Release table. The one that had this guy so excited seemed to be a cookbook about Native American cuisine, 'including recipes from across the nations', by someone with a name Keith had difficulty reading, let alone pronouncing.
"Uh…"
"I didn't know I needed this in my life until now," the guy said. "But you have no idea how much I need it now that I know it's a thing."
He had a beaming smile on his face and was looking at Keith like Keith should be as excited as he was. Keith glanced around but none of his coworkers were around to take over for him. He'd applied for this job because he liked reading, but dealing with people wasn't his strong suit. That's why he was trying out Tumblr for social interaction, for goodness sake!
His eyes landed back on the guy, who seemed to get that he was making Keith uncomfortable, and did his best to smile. 'Customer Interactions' was always something on Keith's quarterly review that his managers said he needed to work on.
"That's cool," he tried. "You should totally buy it then."
The smile returned to the guy's face, though less overpowering this time. He nodded with a determined look. "I will totally buy this book."
Without waiting another second, the guy eagerly snatched a copy of the cookbook from the table. Then he marched off with a big smile on his face, like a proud little toy soldier in a Christmas musical or something. When he was passing the next shelf over, a hand shot out and dragged him out of view. He let out a small gasp but no yelling followed it so Keith assumed he was okay. Besides, the arm was wearing a green jacket, just like that guy's friend had been wearing. Keith didn't get why his friend seemed to be hiding rather than helping them clean up, but whatever. That wasn't his business.
Before someone else could come up and ask him for help, Keith hurried to replace the books he'd found in their proper places.
He caught sight of the two friends walking by the windows outside a few minutes later, but they didn't see him. The smaller friend looked frazzled, running his hands through his hair roughly. The big friend said something with a teasing smile. The smaller friend immediately tried to look suave and cool, or that's what Keith supposed he was going for, and missed by about a mile. Then they were out of sight.
Keith had just long enough to shake his head before someone tapped him on the arm for help.
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PilotKogane
I never wanted to work in a bookstore. I just ended up here.
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It's the first personal post Keith had ever made, and it looked pathetic and tiny surrounded by the content filled posts of Shiro, Allura, Hunk, and Pidge on his dash. He almost deleted it four times, before throwing his hands up and going to make dinner. While the water was boiling, he sat back down at his computer.
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PilotKogane
It's not that I don't like my job. I'm just not good with people.
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The knowledge that he had two posts out there, personal ones, about himself, nagged at Keith the entire time he was eating dinner. It wasn't so much that he was embarrassed. It was that Keith wasn't good at putting himself out there. He'd been on his own for so long that he didn't know what was okay to say and what was considered weird. Was what he'd said acceptable on tumblr? Or was it just pointless whining?
He had no followers to answer that question.
After setting his plate in the sink, Keith found himself sitting before his computer once more.
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PilotKogane
I never know what to say. I open my mouth and nothing comes out. I insult people and it's an accident but I don't know how to apologize. I hurt people and I can't make it right because I don't know what I did until they're gone. I've started to think staying quiet causes less problems. In the long run. Maybe.
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With that post, it felt like a bit of weight had come off Keith's chest. Like he'd finally gotten to say his peace, even if no one would ever read it. He logged off the computer and headed for the garage to work on his bike.
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Yawning, Keith logged onto his computer the next morning. The intention was to see if savethefood_savetheworld had any drink recipes to wake him up that weren't coffee. He hated coffee. Then Keith saw the notes.
Notes.
His last post had notes.
It had three notes.
When people liked your post, that meant they agreed with it right? Or, that they felt the same? There were three people who'd somehow seen what he wrote and felt the same way.
Something in Keith's chest snapped open and he had to press the heels of his hands into his eyes to keep from crying. Maybe it was exhaustion after a too late night working on his bike, maybe not. All Keith knew was that his chest was bursting with relief.
He'd posted something personal – something about his inability to communicate with other people – online, and found other people who were just like him.
Shit. Maybe this was why so many people were on this stupid site. Keith laughed and it came out sounding wet and a little hysterical.
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After receiving his first notes, Keith began to post his own stuff regularly. He made one post every one or two days. It was never anything intentionally deep or very long. He would just post about his day, as if Tumblr were his online diary that anyone could read if they just happened to look in the right place.
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PilotKogane
Had to replace the magbelt on my hovercycle. There was a friction hole in my old one. I got a good deal on a new one down at Hardigan's. There was damage to the fastener, but it was just cosmetic. I got the belt for half the regular price though so I'm not complaining.
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PilotKogane
Overheard a coworker get yelled at today. The customer brought a book back four days too late for the return policy and blamed us. She wouldn't even take the store credit for the return, just yelled a lot and then walked out. I don't get it. We were offering her credit for what she wanted to return. If she didn't want the book, and she wanted to be able to spend her money on something else, why wouldn't she take the store credit?
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PilotKogane
I rode to the beach today. Found a place where no one else was using the beach and just parked my bike. I watched the sun set over the waves of the Gulf and then drove home with the stars. Had to outrun a cop though cause I wasn't wearing a helmet. That sort of ruined the night. Do cops use Tumblr?
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About a week later, Keith noticed that everyone he followed had these little notes in grey at the bottom of their posts. He'd seen them before, obviously. He read them like they were part of the post. But on that day, it suddenly hit Keith that the reason he'd found any of these people in order to follow them was because of those mini notes – those "tags."
That was how you got followers. You tagged your posts and people who agreed with you found those posts through those tags. If they liked enough of your posts, they followed you.
He went back through his personal posts and gave them tags like "work" and "travel" and "my bike." They weren't the most expansive tags he'd seen – Hunk sometimes wrote whole novels in his – but he figured he had to start somewhere, right?
The change was immediate. Not huge and overpowering, but immediate even in its simplicity. Keith's posts started getting notes. He still had no followers, but people had begun to notice his existence on this site. Maybe he wasn't too awkward for the internet after all.
Keith got a thrill every time he saw one of his posts get a note. It was only one or two notes for every five posts he made, but it was something. His post about always saying the wrong thing had fifteen notes within the next three days. And each and every note made Keith feel like maybe someone was listening. Maybe someone actually gave a shit about things Keith had to say.
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tbc…
