He had always perceived Sam Seder as a cucky soy boy, but not anymore. Seder's tempting liberal ideas shook his very inner core. They evoked something in Steven Crowder that was long forgotten, something that he never dared to revisit. His compassion and his feelings, they began to surface again.
"Let me break this down. You know - trickle-down economics don't work. They never worked in the first place much to the distress of many people, especially those with ethnic background", Seder continued. Slowly but steadily the audience turned to Sam's side.
"Also your appreciation for Reaganomics is hilariously unfounded. Everyone knows that there were higher tax rates than today."
And with each knockdown Crowder was thrown further back in time to the moment when the incident happened. The incident that dictated his whole life, the moment when his heart turned into stone, the reason why he was a racist die-hard conservative in the first place. It wasn't your fault mother...
Crowder could literally see people putting their MAGA hats down, ashamed of how they have been fooled by Trump's propaganda campaign and the whole Republican Party.
After an excruciating amout of time the first part of the debate was finally over. Sam didn't even break a sweat and Crowder was already destroyed. Defeated Crowder stood up and walked to the toilets, his face frozen in a lethargic expression. His most devoted individuals tried to cheer him up, but he walked past them without taking a notice. Under his mask his very essence was squirming.
Am I crying? What is wrong with me? What are these emotions?
At the men's room he hid in one of the cabins. Soon it will all be over. I will just make up a silly story how I was blackmailed by a crazy sjw. Or Mexicans. That will show them. At the same time he asked himself why Seder's words had such an impact on him. Some of his ideas really resonated in him, but he would never admit it, because socialism is for figs.
Son, you are a disgrace for this family. I've told you that you can't win against those cheating jews. Stupid fag!, the shrill and outlandish voice of his father resonated in his head. He had disappointed him once again.
"Enough, father! Make it stop!", cried Crowder and ran out of the stall. On the way out he bumped into Sam Seder. Quickly he wiped his burning tears away and apologized while avoiding eye contact. Please don't make this moment worse. He winced when Sam got a hold of his arm.
"Wait, Stevey." His grasp was firm and determined.
"What?", Crowder asked.
No one but his closest friends called him Stevey. Real tension was in the air. His stare was so intense that for a moment Crowder thought that Sam was mentally undressing him.
"This was not personal, I guess."
Sam released his hold. Maybe Crowder expected something different from his mouth. Maybe an apology. But this nonexcuse triggered him.
"Yeah, so? You humiliated me in front of my whole fanbase." His voice became over the top dramatic, a sure indicator that Crowder was riled up and angry. He shoved Seder against the wall, but instantly regretted that. Instead of being triggered or afraid Sam Seder came close to his ear.
"I want to ask you something - Uhm. Why do you hate liberals?"
"Easy. Liberals are responsible for 9/11. Liberals are the true racists. Society would flourish without them."
"Well, isn't it internationally agreed that the 9/11 incident was triggered through military foreign intervention of the Bush administration?"
While he spoke in his typical slow paced fashion to explain him very basic facts about history, Crowder had only eyes for his lips. They look so soft. I wonder if he uses lip balm. But he quickly collected himself when someone entered the toilets and walked past them. "Enough with your nonsensical ideas. I will not get humiliated or destroyed by you in front of an audience again. Mark my words!"
"And without an audience? In my hotel room upstairs?"
Face to face and discreetly smiling this middle aged jewish man put his hand on his shoulder. Crowder gasped. Never before had someone flirted with him so openly. Was he?
"I - I don't know ... I mean, of course not! Dude, I'm not a fag. I'm married", he muttered and showed him his wedding ring, but his objections were so unconvincing that Seder broke out in a laughter, then gently slapped his face.
"I'm just kidding, you fool." He left Crowder standing with shaky legs and an enormous high blood pressure.
Like he was fleeing from a crime scene Steven Crowder rushed out of the building where he was greeted by the night. His breathing was heavy, the fresh air filled his lungs and the oxygen helped him to process what just happened. This had been too intense, it was obvious that there was some kind of chemistry going on between them. But he had never been attracted to men or was he?
There was no denial that Sam Seder had attractive features. His well-groomed graying hair was certainly a highlight, but nothing was as beautiful than his sparkling eyes accentuated by the frame of his glasses. Though he was not attractive in the usual sense (he was neither a Dan Crenshaw nor a Richard Spencer) he emitted something that Crowder has never seen in his life. Intelligence. This made him stick out from his hot, but braindead competitors. Together with his attitude, his work ethics and his perfect paced line delivery, he was truly a gem. A dangerous, 10 out of 10 gem, but still very hot while being eloquent and liberal. Sam was lighting in a bottle. Too bad that I am 100% straight. But there was no way that he would return to the debate stage.
The following days Steven Crowder didn't dared to use the internet. They would make fun of him nonstop anyway. At least he had something to look forward to, because all would be forgotten after the next mass shooting and everyone would jump on NRA. But one thing stayed longer on his mind than he wanted. His craving for a "platonic friendship" with Sam Seder grew stronger every day and with it his confusion. People around him began questioning if there was something wrong with him. Usually he ignored these questions except when his wife asked. On a good day he would tell her: "Shut the fuck up, Hilary. Are you on your period again? You are useless." But most of the times he ignored the approaches from his wife.
There was only one person besides Sam Seder that would understand him. Someone equally as humiliated and confused - someone that went through the same phase. Though that person never had a reputation in the first place. He needed someone to talk to. He needed Dave Rubin.
