Work Text:
There had once been a time when Gabriel had felt at the top of the world.
“That kid’s so talented”, she had often heard. Painting and fishing and fencing and a plethora of other hobbies that had been barely enough, along with all the friend circles she had been in, to canalize that boundless energy she had. No doubt, whatever she wanted to do while growing up, she would manage it with gusto.
She had wanted to be a singer, at first. Not so much because she liked performing arts, but because it brought so much joy in people’s lives. Then she had thought of being a teacher, or a pediatrician, a career that would aid people. Children, in particular. So many innocent souls out there, needing someone to make a change for the better in their lives.
Gabriel wondered how this past version of her would feel about the exhausted waitress looking numbly at the bus driving away without her.
Of course, her job at the Heaven’s Hall was a form of helping people, she wasn’t devaluing her work! Plenty of poor folks came to seek comfort and warmth within the rows of used fake leather seats and free coffee refills, and she would not let them walk away without feeling a little better. But... between the long shifts without a chance to sit down, the lack of coworkers during rush time, the surprise schedule changes... It was hard to feel like the small change she was bringing to people’s life was worth the amount of effort she was putting in.
But one could not pay rent on a streamer’s donations alone, and her options were limited. She had forgone college after high school for monetary reasons, and for a while that had been alright, as she had had a job lined up at the Wreath of Life association. But as it closed down, and she had little to show for it, well. She managed.
As Gabriel walked in the chill, dark evening, trying to see the benefits in not taking the bus (she needed to get the blood going after being up still for hours, and she only used individual tickets on her transportation card as it was cheaper for her than the monthly fare), she checked her phone. Another mail from Keith Publishing, no doubt about that copyright claim on one of her videos. A case that was going nowhere, and made her wonder if that wasn’t the point, making it last till her willpower was grinded to dust and she gave up. That would explain why they kept spelling her name as Gabrielle after correcting them multiple times ; yet just one little detail more to frustrate her.
Rather than click the mail notification, she looked at her messages, hoping for better news.
Francis:
Sorry, won’t be there for stream tngt, at the hospital rn
Ntng too bad, broke glass and cut my hand, need stitches
A sigh escaped the woman’s lips. Of course. Francis was a dear friend and had been there from the start, doing moderation in the chat of her streams, but sometimes she couldn’t help being slightly frustrated at him. The man was rather accident prone, and he made bad decisions on top of his bad luck ; she suspected he might have tried to collect glass shards by hand. It wouldn’t be the first time. At least now she knew better than to let him draw the thumbnail art for her VODs, even if he did it for free.
She would reply to him once home, Gabriel thought, when her focus wasn’t split into catching up news and making sure she wasn’t running into another passerby or crossing the street at a red light. Good heaven, what would her subscribers think of her, if they saw her as she currently was. They knew her as Angel Gabby, always collected, always mature, rarely unkind, all with the inviting smile of a bunnygirl 3D model with wings. Not the kind of person who would miss her bus, or scroll idly at her phone to not miss an important information, or who even was wondering if she should skip dinner to be on time for her stream.
Zag had more than once made sharp comments about the use of angelic imagery. How it was inviting parasocial relationships, and might come off as arrogant. Perhaps he had a point. Then again, her fellow streamer had no sense of aesthetics and cared little about learning how to implement the technology behind such models, even if Cam had been willing to show him.
Right, Gabriel was supposed to contact them to see if they could schedule a livestream together. South Patch had released another season of Angel Dino out of nowhere, and her subscribers have been begging her for live reaction ever since. How would she find the room to cram said stream in her busy schedule, she had yet to know.
...Constantly running around, scrapping as much energy as she could muster... She liked to stream, to give people a respite after a long day. But, was it all worth it, she wondered?
Gabriel remembered, two years ago, when she had started to pick up in popularity, way above her expectations. At the time, she had been streaming every day for hours on end, with special events for Easter season, while trying to fix a faulty new model and still going through her shifts at the Heaven’s Hall. She had been so burned out she spent a week in bed, unable to find it in her to move or even answer phone calls. She had legitimately thought it would be the end, back then.
...What was it, again, that made her decide to go on...?
Her phone rang with a new text message.
Jonah:
Francis texted me, I can do the moderation tonight if you want.
Oh, I also got my new mike, do you still want the old one? I can pass by this weekend to give it to you.
She smiled with fondness as she read the message. Gabriel remembered, now. Back then, it was this very same Jonah, then only an enthusiastic subscriber, who had messaged her. Telling her it was alright if she needed to take a break, that they would all wait for her- and that if she needed help, many would be willing to give a hand.
There were limits to what she could ask from fans that were, ultimately, strangers, but it had touched her all the same.
Gabriel copypasted the same message on her various social medias, all already open in various tabs on her phone.
The livestream will be delayed tonight, join me in an hour for a fireplace chat!
There, that would leave her time for dinner and a break. Her community would understand. And then she would be able to still talk to them tonight with an actual smile on her face, greeting them all with the very same message she used every time.
“Hello, chat, I love to hear you call!”.