Page 1 of Tantrum Interrupted (Blue Collar Daddies in the City #10)

HUNTER

“Fuck you, Jimmy! Suck my entire ass!” My voice screeched slightly in the echoey box of my basement apartment. The ring light glared off my triple monitor setup, reflecting just enough of my face to make me cringe.

Though, looking at myself was better than looking at the comments. Even though they scrolled so fast I couldn’t catch more than the occasional word or two, the words I did catch were never nice.

Then I held up my jazz hands and waved at the webcam as my signature signoff.

It was cheesy when I started doing it as a newly out baby gay when I was just fourteen.

Eight years later, it was part of my gaming persona and wasn’t going anywhere, even though I felt as far away from “jazzy” as one could be.

My mom was stomping around upstairs, probably doing laundry and making dinner while one of her decorating shows played at max volume.

She had a busy and rich life full of reality TV and her little maltipoos that barked at me like they hadn’t seen me in my own house ten times a day for their entire lives.

My live feed was off, but the chat window didn’t slow down.

Hate, slurs, and suggestions to find a bridge to jump from continued to pop off my screen like I was royalty or something.

But I was just some dumb gamer who let strangers watch me play and smiled through their written attacks on my looks, my life, and my intelligence.

You’d think that at least a few of my four million followers would actually like me, but if they did, they were the quiet minority.

But I didn’t care. I could handle that as long as the cash kept rolling in.

Cash that had paid off Mom’s house and her car and would allow me to live in a penthouse apartment if I wanted to.

But I didn’t want to. I planned to die alone in this basement…

just like I lived. If I were in a building with strangers who didn’t give a shit if I ever ate again, I’d probably starve or die of gum disease, because once I started gaming, it took physical intervention or the wifi being turned off to get me to take care of basic human needs.

I’d even been known to slip on a diaper now and then for multi-day tournaments.

Though, those weren’t entirely to keep me in the game.

There was something comforting about being in a diaper that I was afraid to explore any deeper.

The last thing I wanted was my mom to come check on me and find me curled up with stuffies and a wet diaper with my thumb in my mouth.

I let the YouTube stream roll for another fifteen seconds, then hit the outro music and yanked off my hat. Fuck, my back hurt like a bitch. I was twenty-two and already had the lumbar health of a retired coal miner.

Once the screen was black, I peeled off my headset and pushed the floppy mess of my hair off my forehead. How long was I playing for anyway? Six hours? Seven? Fuck, I needed to take a piss. Instead of getting up, I flopped forward so my forehead touched my knees, like a bug folding in on itself.

I also needed a snack and a nap, not necessarily in that order.

My phone buzzed, but it took me a few seconds to grab it and see who wanted me. GameGalleria was one of my sponsors and they always had notes for what they wanted me to do differently next time.

I checked it and it wasn’t from Bill at GG.

The most recent message was in a group text of online friends who were all part of the Not-E-Boys-Club, which usually meant some petty YouTuber drama or an epic dick meme.

I tossed my phone onto my bed and ran to the bathroom.

Once I was back on my bed and comfortable enough to focus, I read the most recent text.

It was from Percy, my agent and best friend. Well, technically, my only IRL friend. Hunter Hayes, you’re an absolute animal. But you know you have a podcast interview in an hour, right?

Um, no, actually, I did not, in fact, know that. I do?

Don’t fuck with me, Hunter. We talked about this yesterday.

That was vaguely familiar. Unfortunately for me, that required putting on clothes and talking to people…two things I hated most. Send a link for today.

Sent. Agenda for tomorrow coming too. Don’t be late.

Being famous for gaming definitely had its pros and cons.

There were three trophies on my bookshelf that I used as personal motivators.

One was from a Fortnite charity tournament, one was a weird glass thing that just said “INFLUENCER” in all caps, and the third was actually a snow globe with a little guy in a suit holding a “SUBSCRIBE” sign.

I bought that one myself, but I liked it best. The only thing that really mattered were the subscribers, and it was easy to lose sight of that when the hate flowed so freely.

I checked my YouTube numbers out of reflex. The video was already trending with 56k viewers on the stream, comments at warp speed, and the analytics graph spiking so hard it looked like a cartoon erection.

I should have felt like a god or some shit, but I just felt…itchy. Like I was borrowing someone else’s life and it didn’t quite fit anymore.

My phone buzzed again with an email confirming a furniture store commercial I was scheduled to shoot tomorrow.

I didn’t do a lot of location shoots, but this one paid well and was close to my house, so I took the job.

Percy was good at his job, but that made me exhausted at mine.

Why did these things always happen back to back?

After today, I wouldn’t want to deal with people again for at least a month or three.

The job sounded good when he pitched it, but looking at the schedule, I immediately regretted agreeing to do it. I was not a morning person. I was an afternoon-to-midnight person. All the other hours were better spent in my bed.

Agenda for Filming:

9:30 AM: Meet at the Luxehaus Showroom

- Outfits provided on-site, hair/makeup by their crew, bring “comfortable shoes”

- Client wants a “playful, casual, natural” vibe

- Invoice to be sent upon completion. Net 10 Terms.

I tried to picture myself in a fake living room posing on a stiff couch and trying to sell people on the idea that I was a “playful, casual, natural” guy. My brand was all about authenticity, but the more real I acted, the more people seemed to think I was a character.

Before leaving, I responded to Percy so he didn’t have a panic attack. Jumping on the call now, and I’ll be at a shoot tomorrow. Don’t @ me unless you want pictures of me half-naked on a $4k couch.

His response was instant and exactly what I expected. Four eggplant emojis and a Yes, pix, please. Go find your daddy!

Why did he have to say shit like that? The word always did weird things to my insides. I tried to chalk it up to being raised by a single mom who was never home, but there was another reason. One I didn’t quite know how to explain, even to myself.

As it was, I had a persona to live up to.

People followed me because I was the most famous sad boy on the internet, living off microwave popcorn and Ghost energy drinks and secretly watching “caregiver Little” TikToks while wishing some burly, bearded guy would haul me onto his lap and tell me I was a good boy.

It made me cringe to even think about, but at night, with no one around, I would wrap myself in my weighted blanket and try to imagine what it would be like to be in someone’s arms. To be small and held and safe.