Live Stream Love

P Chidrupi posted under Flash Fiction QuinTale-60 on 2024-02-20



“I bet Mr Nerdy will be alone on Valentine’s Day.” “Yeah, who’d date him? What’s he doing on his phone?” “Watching porn, you think?” “Not on campus!” February 1st. My class’s mean, gossiping girls have found their target again — the bespectacled guy inhabiting the back bench, a transfer student who landed here last month. Messy auburn bangs cover his forehead as he types on his phone, and that funky outfit… These girls think what!? Are we in a prestigious NIT? Is being nerdy an issue? The lunch bell rings before I can tell off the girls. Mr Nerdy walks past my bench. He’s skipping math again? Strange namunas thrive on this campus, invoking mixed emotions inside me. I’m torn between confronting abusive students and staying impartial. I dust off my dungaree that evening, fix my hair, and bike to the girls’ hostel. I can relate to not fitting in. Friendless though I am on the campus, I own my tribe on social media. If only Mr Nerdy too had a friend… *** My complaint on the anti-ragging squad’s FB page calms the chaos. Maybe I overreacted? Mr Nerdy is unfazed as usual, glued to his phone in the back. Will he skip math again? Why is his name unknown? Does he even eat? Impulse leads me to him. “Hi, I’m Arohi...” “H-Harsh.” “Can I sit here?” “Sure.” I sit and ramble about my hometown, Howrah. He listens, pocketing his phone. Hazel eyes, through thick glasses, captivate me. I snap out of my stupor and stream my favourite YouTube podcast. “I love Mr Inspire on YouTube.” Harsh takes my wireless earbud when I insist. “He’s… uplifting. His voice has been my guiding light. Being different can make you feel alone. Try listening to Mr Inspire when you’re feeling down.” Harsh flashes me a brief, bright smile. I sense I’ve touched his heart, though unsure why. *** On February 14th, when the mean girls mock Harsh again, I commit to being his date. He’s a friend now, but how’ll he react? I walk the corridors in search of him, berating myself. I’m here to study, not date. Mr Inspire hasn’t live-streamed in a week. Oh, his livestream is ending! I enter an empty classroom and find Harsh on his phone, using a wireless mic. Mr Inspire’s voice… My wild ideas fade when we lock eyes. But Harsh admits he is Mr Inspire. “Harsh. I told the girls we had a date.” “What?” Harsh’s glasses are off, hazel eyes fixed on me. “I’ve always wanted to date Mr Inspire.” My feelings are suddenly sincere. Harsh laughs. “Are you the weird ISRO-girl in the comments? Whose popular channel features astronomy?” I laugh breathlessly at the precise guess. “We’re weirdos with online identities and a history. Can we go on our first friendship date?” “It can also be Valentine’s date...”