The Only Fan

My next story is about a man who learns that a content creator may become the product instead of the person. I call this story “The Only Fan.”

The amber hue of the ring light was the sun that Julian basked in each day.

Julian, known to his 15,000 only fan subscribers as ‘Jules69Uncut,’checked his reflection on the monitor. He adjusted the waistband of his shorts, pulling them just low enough to tease his covered manhood. He spent twenty minutes misting his chest with a spray bottle of water to simulate sweat, though the room was cold.

He checked the room’s brightness. The LED video lighting kit hid the dark circles under his eyes from a night of reading and responding to direct messages.

The Post: “Just finished a heavy workout. Who wants to see the recovery session in a nude private show? 200 tokens for non members and only 50 tokens for subscribers.” He typed the hash tag #Hot Workout #Private Show on his dashboard.

The Reality: He hadn’t been to a real gym in weeks because he was too tired from managing three different social platforms to funnel traffic to his paid only fan page.

Julian sat ‘live on cam’ in his favorite chair in ‘EMOM.’ This wasn’t lifting weights; it was responding to DMs, Every Minute On the Minute. Every message was a transaction disguised as intimacy.

“Hey baby, missed you today,” one subscriber typed. Julian didn’t know the man’s real name, only his username, BigSpender92. He typed back the usual scripted response:

“I missed you too bigspender92. I’d love for you to chat me up in private,” Julian typed. BigSpender92 added:

 “Check your tip pot for a special surprise from me.”

The dopamine hit came; not from the chat, but from the notification that followed: five hundred, thirty five tokens = $125.00 tip received. This was the largest tip Julian received since the end of Covid19 sent most of his followers back to work.

Julian felt a churning ache in his stomach. Guilt set in as he thought of all the money he received from people he didn’t know. It was a game. He wasn’t a person anymore; he was a product, and he felt like a thief. Irritation with himself made him suddenly stand up and walked away from the live camera. Viewers wondered why they only saw the chair he was sitting in just a minute ago. More tips registered on his platform: $10.00, $5.00, $15.00, $3.00, and $2.00 dollar’s, as Julian paced back and forth out of the view of his fans.

After a full hour, he returned to his seat. Ego made him expect fans to wait for his return. A blank screen and a 404 message stating no page found, painfully confirmed the website server went down during his diatribe. The fans were long gone before the site crashed.

“Damn!” He cursed to no one. The site was down. What were his stats? How much money did he make? Did he lose followers because the site went down, or because he had a tantrum?

With nothing else to do, he walked to the window. Outside, the neighborhood was active. People were moving about outside their homes. Some were gardening, kids were playing games, others talking and laughing. He saw his neighbor Brenda, with a laptop showing a teenager something on the screen. Julian slowly moved back from the window when he realized he only had underwear on.

On occasion he desired to talk to his neighbors but he didn’t feel comfortable in front of people without a lens. A sharp pang of loneliness hit. Not the ‘lonely’ he traded for tips, but for a real, human connection that no amount of digital ‘tokens’ could fill. The only solution to quell his anxiety was to take a Valium and go to bed.

 Awaking the next morning to his phone’s beep alert and vibration, Julian checked for missed messages after his 11 hour deep sleep. There was only one.

Julian scrolled through the Instagram app on his phone to check Direct Messages. He saw a message from Leo-Fit. Leo was a long time Only Fan subscriber who had an Instagram page he shared with Julian. They discovered they lived in the same area and pledged to someday meet. Leo was blond and blue eyed. His muscles were defined, and his engagement numbers skyrocketed on IG.

“Jules, I had a rough day yesterday and decided to take a break from social media. I’m headed to Verdent Haven, the botanical garden on West Street. It’s a great place to wine down. I’ll be there at 11am. Hope to see you. Leo.”

Julian stood in front of the bathroom mirror. In the harsh, overhead light he saw his body imperfections. He saw the person behind the ‘content.

For the first time, he didn’t check his angles or mist his body with water or oil.

“Keep it simple he thought.”

Sneakers, jeans, tank top, and hoodie. He smiled at himself, seeing a natural glow without the LED kit. He posted a simple text update to his feed:

“Taking a break for awhile. I’m going on a date.”

He turned off the ring light, shut down his laptop, and left his apartment. The fresh air outside and the real sun felt good as he fast walked toward West Street.