Page 151 of Playing By Ear

I suppose there are benefits to having people say nice things about you while you’re still alive instead of waiting for the funeral

Jamie

Perry 1:37 PM

Seen the eyasses today? Twice as big as last week

Jamie

Love watching them flop-crawl

Glad the dad does so much feeding and keeping them warm

Perry

Four is a big brood. Need two full-time parents

Jamie

I hope they can handle it

If any of the floofs die it’ll kill me

Perry

The babies all look strong, even the one that hatched last. Feisty little thing

Mum and dad make sure it eats enough

Jamie

I fucking miss u

“What’s for breakfast?” Nancy asked.

“French toast.” Perry shifted his laptop away from the edge of his kitchen island. “With fresh berries and whipped cream, of course.”

“Hot, Falcon. Very hot.”

Perry had met “NaughtyNancy” on the camming subreddit he’d joined shortly after starting this venture. The forum members exchanged tips and tricks—such as teledildonics—and the general conviviality among his “camily” was a high point of the job.

“The scenario is that I’m feeding them after a good long fuck.” He did a coquettish twirl of his red silicon whisk, which matched his apron and silk briefs. “Which I shall describe in detail for their, erm…”

“Entertainment.”

“Yes. And while they’re entertained, they’ll learn how blind folk use a kitchen without poisoning ourselves or catching fire.”

She laughed. “Love your scenario. I swear, sometimes I make more money doing everyday shit on camera, like playing Xbox or painting my toenails. Once I did the LA Times crossword puzzle in bed wearing a men’s flannel shirt and a thong. That’s it. Made major bank.”

Perry doubted his audience would be transfixed by mundane activities, but maybe that was his own fault for rarely dropping the sex-god persona. “So, how’s my setup look and sound?”

“Sound is crystal clear. As for the video…” Nancy took a moment. “Too many shadows.” She had him shift the studio light to a better location. “Perfect. Now I can see all your stuff on the countertop and stove. What’s that white thing that looks like a video-game controller?”

“This?” He held it up. “It’s my Braille label maker. I can identify most ingredients by the container’s shape and size, but this is a lifesaver when it comes to spices.”

“Smart. I could use something to stop me from putting chili powder on my oatmeal. And my vision is fine. Mostly.” She adjusted her black-framed glasses, which, together with her dark hair and fair skin, were all Perry could discern without looming close to the screen. “Anyway, you’ve got good instincts. Cozy cam sessions make followers feel like they know us. Without them, you know, actually knowing us.”

“That’s a tightrope I’m still learning to walk.” It was a relief to discuss his vocation with someone who understood.