A/N: Summer of 2015, so, the future for me at this time. But if you're reading this in the summer of 2015, and some facts are off or something, that's why. I don't know how things'll have changed by then, like in Toby's life or whatever. Actually, if I'm honest, I don't watch Toby's videos anymore and I haven't since, maybe, iJobuscus, so if this is all wrong, I apologize. I don't watch him anymore, I don't like him all that much anymore, but I can't not write about him because as far as appearances go, he's flawless, and totally the kind of guy you write about. Plus, if I don't like him in real life, I can write him to be someone I like, which is cool.
Also, sorry for the long Author's notes. I do apologize for them. The long author's notes. The ones that I apologize for. I am so sorry that I write such long author's notes that no one probably reads anyway. I'm eating pop-tarts at school in an empty classroom. I like pop-tarts, but only the brown sugar ones and the cookie dough ones. I skipped lunch because I have no friends in that lunch wave. Wait, what was I saying? Oh, yeah—sorry for the long author's notes.
My friends knew about Van.
The Audience did not, though.
It wasn't like I wanted to keep her a secret, necessarily, but just that the story was complicated. I was a kid. I was stupid. I didn't know how to deal with what was going on. I didn't even really like kids, and I didn't know how to talk to them. They were weird. They said weird things. Half the time they looked weird. I was better at it now, since most of my viewers were kids, but at fifteen I just didn't know how to handle it. So I decided not to handle it. It was wrong, but there was no going back.
They would all make assumptions and I didn't know how to even explain something like that to them all. So I just didn't. I took the easy way out.
But it was a week before Van was getting here for the summer.
So I had to make a video. Telling the Audience. That I have a child. A fifteen year old daughter. The result of a teenage pregnancy. And they didn't know about her because I only saw her twice a year. And I'm a shit dad. And everyone will hate me. And unsubscribe. And then I'll run out of money. And then I'll have to become a male prostitute or something. Then Van will hate me even more.
I put my phone in my little phone tripod that I bought off the internet for about thirty dollars. I hadn't used it yet because I always just held my phone to make videos. I bought it almost a year ago. I was only going to use it because I was making a serious video and when I thought about serious videos I did not imagine the camera shaking all over the place because I couldn't keep my hand still.
But then I took it off the tripod and just held it because I found the idea of the tripod very awkward. And although the video was serious, it wasn't that serious. I wasn't telling them I had two weeks to live or anything.
If I had been telling the Audience that I had a five year old daughter whose name was, like, Katie or Hope or Daisy and I didn't know I had her until a week ago when she showed up at my door, well, they would probably adore the idea of that. Me taking her in, asking where her mother is. She'd tell me 'My mom died,' in a tiny little high-pitched voice and then I'd adopt her and at first it'd be difficult, but then I'd become an awesome father and we'd bond and it would be just like a fucking movie. They would be excited.
But that wasn't the story. It wasn't a fucking movie. It was just life, and it was shitty and the story was shitty. And I wasn't an awesome dad. I was a horrible one. And I hated myself for that.
So I decided I wouldn't even tell the whole story. I would just tell them the basics, and let them wonder about all the details.
I tapped the red button and started recording.
Basically: I said I had a kid. I said I knew it was shocking, and maybe they wouldn't believe me, but I was not kidding. I said she's fifteen and she's coming to stay with me for the summer because her mom was on a trip. I said she would fly in on Monday of next week. I said I might be slacking on my uploads at first.
And that was kind of it. I went a little bit more into detail, but not too much, and the video was barely three minutes. I uploaded it. It was nine at night in LA, so in Norfolk, Virginia it would be twelve. Van was already asleep there. Or at least I hoped so, because it was exam week for her. After today, it was two down, six to go, I believed. And when she was done with those, she'd be done with freshman year. She'd probably spend the weekend saying goodbye to her friends (she told me she only has four friends, and one lives in Missouri, and only two go to her school, so everyone thinks she's a loser). Then she and Lauren would get on a plane.
Lauren had the thing planned out already. She was going on the plane with Van, because it was Van's first time flying and she was really nervous. Then we'd eat lunch together. Then Lauren would come back to my house and see that Van's stuff got situated. Then she'd go back to the airport, get on her plane, and meet up with her church group at the airport there.
After she explained all that to me, I said, 'All right. Sounds good'.
The comments were a mess. There were multiple wars going on, and because of the way YouTube sorted comments, I saw them all first. Barack Obama (probably not actually the president) started one by saying that I clearly don't care about the audience because if I did, I would have told them about Van a long time ago. Then Meagan Buscus replied and said that I was probably trying to keep my daughter safe, and maybe I didn't want her all over the internet. The other replies were just cut in half, with 50% siding with Barack and 50% siding with Meagan. Some Guy (his actual username) said that Meagan and all the people agreeing with her were just blinded by their obsession with me and couldn't see that I was a total asshole because of it. That started a completely different argument. There were 214 replies and I read them all.
I stopped at eleven, closing my laptop angrily and laying back on the couch. It was exactly what I wanted to avoid.