Blogbuster - A comedy-laced blogger sci-fi thriller

24 - Shuttle struggle

Next day, early. Like, too early.

The Stax Media bus shuttle halted at the front door to Violet’s studio space. She expected a personal taxi, or at least a luxury limo liner. Come on, she was one of only eight vloggers. Won against thousands of applicants, and all she got was a shuttle bus ? 

Stax better not save money on the wrong end. 

The driver walked up and helped her stash her rucksack. Violet turned to her right and saw the sun just peeking up from the horizon. This was the first time in five years she’d seen the sunrise. Not bad. She tilted her head back to the bus and inspected it up close. The Blogbuster logo shone from the rear with flamboyant colors. The tagline was visible, no matter what angle you viewed. Even the driver’s uniform boasted the logos and matching brand colors. At least the visual branding was consistent. 

Violet yawned while covering her mouth.

The driver smiled.

“Too early for you ?”

“I can handle it.”

He nodded and ushered her inside the bus. Violet passed through the seat line and counted five persons. She knew three but recognized the other two from their blog pics. The black guy was Trigger, a popular video blogger who 3D printed his own firearms. Although Violet never dove into the world of guns and rifles, she enjoyed the quality of his vids. Fun and informational, shot in 3D high res. The guy also possessed a great speaking voice and spoke from a vast knowledge pool of technology. When she passed by his seat, he dropped a silent salute and nodded. Violet shrugged. Should she greet him, or anyone for that matter ? They were all rivals, competing for Stax’ massive position. She decided to go for the passive aggressive silence stance and passed another row of seats. To her left, she recognized Fitnessy, a well-known fitness vlogger with the build of a horse and the looks of a model. Peroxide blond, snowy-skin and emerald eyes shining through the dim light of the buses interior. Violet let her gaze lower and noticed Fitnessy’s proud rack. Pure glitterati. That girl looked so perfect she must have been genetically engineered. Whatever. Violet sighed and moved on, till she reached the back seats. Right there, with the window at her back and the view of everyone in front, she could analyze her competitors without looking like a stalker. Très bien. She placed her rucksack next to her feet when a guy with short-trimmed hair peeked out from the seat before her.

“Heya Violet.”

“Hey.”

“You waddled like a dopey penguin through the bus, I feel like waking you up.”

“Well, you accomplished that.”

She ignored the guy, took out a digital drawing and started a new black and white raw sketch. Because it was early morning, she chose to finger paint on her eScroll. A few wipes her, a few swipes there, and voila, black and white turned into a sketch design for her new camouflage collection. Creativity on the fly. No matter how long this shuttle ride took, she could still crank out some sweet designs and inspect her rivals. Double-win or what. The bus roared its way through the morning streets. Little traffic. Violet lowered her head and created two more sketches. Five minutes into the process, her hands practically moved by themselves. Thick lines turned into slender ones, sharp edges mixed with soft curves. To Violet, it always felt like magic, to create something out of nothing.

“You really dig fashion and that stuff, eh ?”

Violet looked up from her eScroll. The guy with the bloodied bandaids grinned again. D’uh. She shot him a scowl and grumbled, semi-subtle Violetspeak for Leave Me The Hell Alone, but it was in vain. The guy kept pestering her.

“I’ve seen the video where your model went aflame.”

“I think everyone has at this point.”

“Was that part of the show ? It looked pretty cool actually. I never watch fashion shows, but your video was fun, well, till that jacket blew up.”

Violet clutched her teeth. 

“The jacket didn’t blow up, the modeI dropped the flare grenade instead of throwing it. And for the record, I paid that girl a small fortune to act. It turns out she was incapable of doing a professional job.”

“Or maybe she wasn’t used to wearing inflammatory clothes.”

If this guy said one more word, Violet would go inflammatory on his stupid face.

“Or maybe you should turn around and mind your own business,” she said instead.

“Done,” he said, “I already sent twenty updates to my community today. They wish me good luck.”

Good for you, idiot. She ignored him and turned her attention back to her digital masterpiece. Every spoken word with that sucker was a waste of oxygen. She continued to finger-paint on her display, diving deeper into the creative mode with every swipe of her finger. If she was to able to stay in creative flow, she would be able to create three new concepts before the shuttle bus reached its BBB destination. Well, she would, if it wasn’t for the guy with the loose mouth.

“You know who I am ?”

He pointed his finger towards his bandaid-blanketed nose which looked like a clown on a child’s birthday.

“Yeah,” Violet said, “you’re the guy who prevents me from being productive.”

He brushed off her comment.

“I’m just making conversation.”

“You are aware we’re competitors from now on ? There’s no need for chitchat.”

“Heh, I like your style. Just as brash as your videos. At least you’re authentic.”

He reached out his hand.

“I’m Bam, by the way.”

“I don’t care who you are. Once I’m in the show, I’m going for first prize. And when I do, crashing into drones will be the least of your concerns.”

Bam put on a grimace, but he joked about it.

“Ouch, you bite. Good thing my skin’s tough.”

He winked at her and moved back to his seat. Finally. If the competition turned out to be as useless as this faux pas, Violet was going to win it laissez-faire. She smiled, cracked her knuckles and surrendered back into her daydream. 

Deep inside, she hoped the other vloggers weren’t as annoying as Bam.