Celeste Attempts To Be 'Cool'

I don’t like to rely on luck.

Luck is a variable you can’t control. It’s a chaotic element that ruins perfectly good plans. Instead, I like to prepare for things; I like making color-coded schedules, and I diligently keep track of whatever project I’m doing in a digital notebook. This is all well and good, but unfortunately, I’ve been told that this kind of thing makes me a bit…rigid.

I sighed. Keeping this ViewTube channel ongoing was hard work for me. Obviously, there are the parts where I have to research, prepare for videos, and plan for future content, but the most difficult part for me was figuring out how to be spontaneous and fun. I glance at Parker in my peripheral vision, slightly feeling jealous. He made it look so easy; he was the charismatic guy in our duo, and it worked because I’m the “straight” man who bounces off that, but I still couldn’t help but feel like I should do a bit better.

Currently, we are playing this horror game that’s popular on the Internet. I was definitely doing a terrible job at it, but Parker has been kind enough to help me out when I’m struggling (which is probably tiresome, since a surprise monster usually depletes my character’s health every 30 seconds).

I yelped involuntarily. There was a monster behind a bush! I quickly fumbled with the controls and steered my avatar to the right corner and—Oh, now I’m dead again. I groaned as the “Game Over” screen came up.

I tuck my head into my arms with shame. It’s annoying because I actually practiced this stupid game for the past few days, but I don’t think it made any difference at all. I felt myself starting to get into a bad mood.

Parker puts his controller away. I could hear him shuffling a bit and changing his sitting position. “There, there,” he says. I think he’s patting my head.

“Nope, don’t console me,” I say, my voice getting muffled. I was still in my awkward pose. I didn’t want the camera to see my face right now. My eyes were starting to slightly sting—I’m not about to cry, right? Ugh, that’s going to be so embarrassing.

“You’re overthinking the controls, Cee. That’s why you keep getting caught.”

“I’m not! I just suck.”

Parker attempts to put on his most reassuring and mature voice. “It’s okay to suck. That’s what I’m here for, you know.” (The voice doesn’t work because ‘Parker’ and ‘mature’ are located on two different ends of the spectrum).

“But I don’t like having you carry me the whole time! Isn’t it too much of a bother?”

“It’s fine, you weirdo. I don’t mind.”

I popped my head up. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He pauses and looks at my face. No, don’t say it, don’t say it—

“Wait, Cee, are you crying?”

“No, ew.”

“Okay, let’s pause this recording.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted. I lightly tapped his hand, which was about to turn off the camera. “Let’s just get back to the game.” I wanted to help make the conversation lighter, so I added: “You worry too much about me.”

I expected him to come up with a cheeky rebuttal, but he just agrees. “Of course I do.” He starts up the game again and focuses on the screen instead.

I was surprised, but it did feel nice. Most of the time, Parker just teases me about random things, so I liked the change. “Mhm. You’re my B1 after all.”

It was a very brief moment, but I’m pretty sure I saw Parker stop for a split-second. He recovers quickly, though, and gets back to the game. “Yeah, sure.”

Oh, I think I know what this is. He doesn’t know what ‘B1’ means. I get it, because I didn’t even know about the word until recently, and then suddenly it was all over my feed. Basically, B1 is the current internet slang that you use to refer to your best friend. I felt a bit proud that I knew a "fun" thing that he didn't. Way to go, me.

***

Parker was sprawled on my couch, legs dangling over the armrest, and inhaling a bag of potato chips. I shook my head. I don’t know how he kept his fit appearance when he clearly had the diet of an unmonitored teenager.

“Scooch,” I say, sitting on the empty spot next to him. I grabbed a handful of chips from his bag and then leaned my weight on his shoulders to bother him.

“Hey.” He complained, but his voice lacked energy behind it.

“Parker, you are way too comfortable in your position. This is still my apartment, you know. Guests are supposed to be a little more considerate.” I snatched another handful of chips. I didn’t even do anything exhausting, but I felt so hungry. Maybe it’s because the game was so nerve-wracking.

“What are you gonna do, kick me out?”

“Yes. Shoo, shoo. We’re done with making the video. I don’t need you anymore.”

“Wow, that’s so cruel…and mean…and awful…and—“

“I’m going to graciously stop you before you exhaust the grand total of four synonyms you know.”

He nods. “Yes, thank you.”

I get the random thought that our conversations can be scarily similar to how a pair of middle-schoolers’ conversations would probably go. It’s probably because we did meet at around a 'middle school' age. The backstory of how we started being friends is a long one, but the short version is that we played the two lead roles in this old kid’s movie called Sunset Heart, and we’ve been keeping in touch ever since.

Now, you might be thinking, “Wait, so these two are movie actors? They must be rich and famous already! Why are they even making a gaming channel on ViewTube?” First of all, it’s past tense. We were movie actors. Work has pretty much dried up for us two, mostly because we got our start as child actors, and we were cute and adorable, but then we grew up, and before we knew it, we had stopped getting roles.

I don’t actually mind it, since I had this realization that I don’t even like acting as much as I thought I did. My attention has shifted towards music through the years, and I’ve been wanting to switch into a full music career for a while now.

It’s different for Parker, though, because I can tell he really misses acting. He still goes on auditions from time to time, but he rarely tells me about them anymore. I think the constant rejections have been getting to him lately. It’s frustrating because I can easily tell how talented he is, but he just can’t get a break. It’s unfair.

Frankly, he should easily be a huge movie star. Even with his current casual appearance, he still had that effortless, brooding aesthetic that I’m pretty sure most girls my age would go crazy for. And when I say ‘crazy’, I mean it. They would be rushing to take pictures with him on the street and plaster his signed poster on their walls and everything.

Parker suddenly spoke up and interrupted my train of thought.

“By the way, Cee, what does B1 mean again?”

“I knew I wasn’t imagining it. You were confused earlier! Anyways, it means Best One. You know, like a term of endearment for your best friend. Bestie. You get the drift.”

He nods slowly. “I see. I must’ve confused it for something else.”

“Yeah. I was trying to be more trendy.” I admitted.

“You don’t need to do that. You’re already interesting enough.”

I make a face. “That’s cheesy, though.”

He sighs. “Okay. How about ‘you sound like a 40-year-old mother trying to blend in with her kids’?”

All my desire to learn new internet words evaporated from my body.
“That works.”