(Just as a heads up, sex and sexual acts are mentioned in this chapter, but are not performed. Just thought I'd let you know. Enjoy the chapter. ~Amy)
Hate, so much hate. I roll over, trying to sleep. All their hateful comments echo in my head. I’ve lost all of them this time.
“Ew what a bunch of fags! They don’t deserve the kid.” One said. “I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL.” Said another.
What has society become?
When we uploaded the video, Anthony and I eagerly waited for comments for hours. And when they all came at the same time, we were quite shocked. Not as shocked as we were when we started reading them.
All of the comments were nasty. Every single one.
I started to sob uncontrollably at the thought of everyone hating me. Anthony notices and pulls me close.
“Don’t worry about it babe.” He says, running his hands through my newly-dyed jet black hair. “We can find regular jobs. Who needs those stupid homophobes anyway?”
“Not us.” I sob. “I can’t believe they’d hate us for being gay though.”
“Yeah, that’s the definition of homophobe dumbass.” Anthony says cheekily. He reaches down and grabs my right butt-cheek.
“I love you babe, don’t you forget that.”
“I won’t.”
“All-right.” Anthony says as he falls asleep in my arms.
In Anthony arms, I had never felt so wanted or loved in my entire life. And he’s right! Who needs those idiots on the internet?
The next morning I wake up to Ian jumping on the bed. “Wake up Sleepyheads!” he giggles, jumping straight onto my crotch.
I refrain from swearing because Anthony will get mad. I screech ‘fire truck’ instead. “What a lovely thing to wake up to.” I mutter to Anthony, who is laughing at me at the end of bed. He high-fives Ian. “You got him well!” He yawns.
“Didn’t I Daddy?!” Ian laughs.
“You did! Coffee Ian?”
“Two sugars please.” I groan, grabbing my sore man-bits and rolling over to the other side of the bed, in an attempt to get up without hurting myself further. It doesn’t work.
Anthony helps me over to the computer and puts a cushion down on the seat. He hands me a coffee. “Read these.” He says, scrolling down the page on our YouTube video. It’s back up again?
Sipping my coffee, I read comment after comment. All of them are supportive and nice.
“I knew you were both gay. Finally, you’ve found each other.” One said.
“Ianthony 5ever.” Said another.
I raise an eyebrow. “There appear to be more nice and supportive comments than the nasty ones.” I say, shocked.
“Yes.” Anthony says, rubbing my back. “There are more nice people out there than mean ones, y’know.” Anthony says.
“What’s Ianthony?”
“Googled it. It appears to be our Celebrity couple name, like Brangelina. It’s been around for a while.” Anthony opens a new tab, and opens a girl’s blog. It hasn’t been updated for a while. As I scroll down, I see all of these crude pieces of art, of Anthony and I having sex. I don’t know how to react. Should I be creeped out? Should I be flattered? I don’t know.
“Oh wow. People thought we were a couple all those years ago.” I say as I point to the screen. There’s me with my hideous bowl haircut receiving a handjob from Anthony.
“Look at my emo hair.” Anthony shakes his head.
“I know!” I laugh.
“The picture…It’s so… Well-drawn….” Anthony says.
“I agree.”
“So back on the subject.” Anthony says, smiling. “I’ve booked the crew. We’re filming a smosh video on Tuesday.” He hands me a script. “Better learn your lines!”
“Hold on a second! You expect me to learn all this by Tuesday?” I say, flicking through the pages.
“Yup! Get practicing, it’s a food battle.”