Vlog Depravity

She’d started recording us brushing our teeth in the morning because it made us look more relatable. Or something like that. The only reason why she wasn’t recording us now was due to an inconveniently-timed conversation with Dad.

“When did Mom say we were doing the live-question thing?” Braxton asked, pulling a T-shirt over his head.

I grabbed an elastic band and wrapped it around the end of my braid. “Thursday?”

Harper toddled into the shared bathroom with a stuffed bunny tucked underneath her arm. “Is this good?” She asked, pointing a finger at her clothes.

I sighed and knelt down. “No, Harper. Mom said we had to wear green today. Remember?”

She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t like green.”

“I know you don’t like green. But Mom wants us to wear it. Just today, and then we’re all done.” Harper’s bottom lip trembled, and I heard my mother’s voice exclaim something from the hallway. I smoothed out her hair with one hand and then grasped the stuffed bunny, lifting it and pressing the toy against her chest. “Harper– Harper, shh. It’s okay. Mom’s about to come in, and she’s going to record us getting ready. It’s just another day. We’re going to smile, and say good morning.”

“I don’t want to say good morning.”

I gently grasped Harper’s shoulders. “It’s just for a little bit. I promise. Can you do it for me?” She shook her head. I gently nudged the stuffed bunny upwards, making its face nuzzle her cheek. The edges of her lips twitched upwards into a smile but she fought it, not wanting me to see. “Fine, don’t do it for me, but– can you… do it for Zuzu?”

She paused and nodded her head. I sighed, gently turning Harper in the direction of her bedroom. “Thank you. Go put the green shirt on, please.”

Then came the whirlwind: my mother, in all her balayage glory. A monologue in mascara and high-waisted jeans.

“It’s another beautiful morning with the Allred fam! Now, as I’m sure most of you know, we’re going to be doing a live Q&A on the channel this Thursday at seven-thirty… eastern time? Eastern time, that’s it. Blah, total mom brain moment– but you try getting three kiddos ready to leave the house and tell me how you feel after that!” High-pitched laughter. “But anywho, please bring a ton of questions because I expect to see each and every one of you there. We are so, so, so amazingly excited to spend time with you guys and give you a little glimpse into our lives! We’ve got quite the busy day today with the sponsorship photoshoot, and then we’re doing a back-to-school shopping extravaganza and let me tell you, this Mama Bear is so not ready for all of those packs of crayons and tissue boxes but like we always say: whatever you do, do it for the fam! Speaking of which, Kylie– why don’t you say hello?”

I smiled at the lens and waved. “Hey everyone! I hope you’re having a good morning too! We are so excited to hang out this Thursday. I can’t believe we’re actually gonna talk with all of our followers, in like– actual real time, y’know?”

Mom laughed, kissing the top of my head and I grinned. “Kylie is ever the extrovert. I’m surprised she still lets me kiss her on the head, with her being a big thirteen-year-old! And Braxton? What do you think about the Q&A?”

She turned the camera to Braxton, who spit some toothpaste into the sink and beamed at her with more dribbling down his chin. “I think it’s gonna be epic!” He exclaimed, holding his toothbrush into the air like a sword. I laughed, Mom laughed, he laughed, and so would the viewers.

“Oh, Braxton. Always the comic relief– and if you’re wondering, yes, he definitely gets that from his father,” Mom said, ruffling his hair.

Harper walked back into the bathroom, this time wearing her green shirt– backwards, but still an improvement from before. She giggled as Mom brought the camera towards her, and she proudly showed off her clothes, patting her chest with both hands. “I’m wearing green today!”

“Yes you are!” Mom cooed. “Why don’t you do a spin and show us the whole outfit, silly girl?”

I watched, continuing to smile in the event I was still in the frame. Harper was a natural when she wanted to be. Harper stretched her arms out to either side once she stopped spinning, one hand leaning against the bathroom counter. “Woah! I’m dizzy, Mommy!”

More laughter. “I can tell!” Mom turned the camera back to her face and chuckled. “Can’t you just imagine what the Q&A will be like with all three of them? Pure chaos. You do not want to miss it. See you all soon!” She slowly moved her closed hand towards the lens and splayed her fingers out in a mock explosion gesture– her current transition in videos– then freezing for a couple seconds and lowering the camera. She turned to me.

“Why is your hair braided?”

Braxton grabbed a washcloth and wiped his chin clean. Harper looked at me. I looked at Mom.

“I… woke up before the alarm and had extra time to get dressed.” My fingers went up and fidgeted with the end of my braid. “I was just trying to be ready for the recording.”

“Kylie. I told you not even two days ago that I wanted you to start wearing your hair down in the mornings. You’ve got such beautiful long hair, why hide it? People are noticing, and worse, they're commenting about it on our latest videos, like, ‘There goes Kylie with that iconic braid’, and ‘Mama Allred, does that girl even know how to brush her hair?’ Please, honey. Help me out a bit. Little girls are obsessed with braids, are you a little girl?”

“No… but I just–”

“Okay then. So we don’t need to keep wearing little girl hairstyles then, hm? Oh! That reminds me. One of our Patreon supporters commented about experimenting with pin curls, so I definitely want to try that sometime this week. Also, Harper– where is she? Harper?” She sighed when her youngest daughter re-entered the bathroom. “Sweetie, please try to have your clothes on correctly before Mommy starts filming, all right?”

Harper’s bottom lip decided it was time for an encore. “But I was cute, Mommy.”

“Honey, I never said that you weren’t cute, but we can be cute and have our shirts facing the right way, can’t we? And Braxton, the toothpaste? Hilarious. I think that–” her voice cut off when her phone rang. “Who is… oh, I’ve got to take this. Listen. We leave in twenty minutes. We’ll pick up breakfast on the way to the shoot so– and Kylie, could you please fix Harper’s shirt so we look the tiniest bit put-together? Okay... yep– meet me downstairs!”

The whirlwind left. I removed the elastic band from my hair, and another day began.

~

After breakfast came the photoshoot and then the commute and the school supply shopping and the school supply unpacking and the First Day Outfit Ideas and the midday chore session followed by trying out a viral enchilada recipe for dinner and after brushing our teeth again it was eventually 11 p.m. and I had gotten out of bed to go see my mother in her bedroom.

“Um. Hey Mom.”

She turned around in the computer chair. “Kylie,” she glanced at the screen, “honey, it’s practically midnight. What are you doing up? Are you sick?”

“No– no Mom, I’m fine, I just… I wanted to ask you a question about something. But we were really busy today and we didn’t get the chance to talk so, can I ask it now?”

Mom’s phone vibrated, and she picked it up to look at the home screen before setting it back down. “Well, I– sure. Sure. Have a seat.”

I sat on the edge of the bed. The downstairs TV faintly hummed with the murmurings of a late-night news broadcast. That’s probably where Dad was. My fingers played with the hem of my shirt.

A pause.

“So… Mom–”

A sigh. I shifted my weight on the bed and tried again.

“Well– you know how I’d asked you about playing volleyball? I, uh– I saw that they’re having tryouts this week, at the community center. On Friday. And don’t worry Mom, I checked the times and it’s not gonna interrupt recording at all. I promise. I even– well, I even thought that I could film some stuff with you early that morning so then we’re not behind, and I think Dad can probably drive me there and I can come back as soon as it’s over.”

I tried reading her face as I always did. Examining every feature for… something. A hint of emotion. Of recognition. The computer started playing a screensaver of old family photos, back when Braxton was only a baby.

“Kylie, I think that is a wonderful idea.”

I blinked. “You– you do?”

She smiled, and I smiled, because hers was an off-camera smile. I leapt up from the bed and tackled her in a frenzied attempt at a hug, wrapping my arms around her neck. The computer chair creaked under my weight. She smelled of vanilla and hairspray and her embrace was warmer than I remembered and I wanted to stay there. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The words tumbled out of my mouth and over her shoulder and fell onto the carpet below us. My mother’s hand cradled the back of my head, stroking my hair, and my eyes closed, and for a moment I was five years old again living in the suburbs of Tennessee with that screen door that never latched properly and rooms that’d never heard the word ‘filming’ before. It was sunny and windy and messy back then, a gorgeous popsicle-stained existence that my heart ached for.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, Kylie,” she repeated.

My face buried itself in the crook of her neck. “I’m so glad, Mom. Really.”

“Of course. Joining the volleyball team will do wonders for the channel.”

I froze. My eyes opened. The Tennessee suburbs and the screen door and quiet bedrooms and the Mom that used to be all flitted back into the recesses of my mind where they would remain until I was stupid enough to think of them again. “The– channel?”

My mother leaned back just enough to look at me, her hands cradling my face. “The channel, sweetheart. That is such a smart idea! You’re old enough to start, and of course don’t worry about recording early, at least not yet. You’ll need to sleep to get all your rest for the games you’ll be playing– oh, the games! We could film at the practices too, maybe even do a little ‘Mom and Daughter’ date when we pick up your uniform, what do you think? And when we know the team colors, Braxton and Harper can dress up to cheer you on! Oh, the viewers will love it, they’ll just love it! So,” she stopped to catch her breath, smiling up at me and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, “what time are the tryouts on Friday?”

I felt my heart pounding in my ears.

“One to four that afternoon, I think.”

I can’t really remember what she said after that. Eventually I was dismissed and I went into the bathroom. My reflection stared back at me. An orange-yellow glow from the nightlight seeped across the mirror, through my hair, over my face. I recalled a pair of scissors tucked away in one of the drawers, and briefly, I entertained an all-too-dangerous idea. A stupid, nonsensical, appealing idea.

I wouldn’t, of course. She knew that. I knew that.

My hands trembled as I braided my hair to the side and secured it at the bottom with an elastic band. I stepped into the enclosed room where the toilet was and grabbed the roll of toilet paper, unrolling several sheets and folding them together to create a makeshift pad.

Mom made me swear to let her know the moment I’d started my period. She had several ideas to celebrate the occasion, like throwing me a period party, and starting a ‘Girlhood Themed’ series of videos on our second channel.

I don’t know why I didn’t tell her when it first happened. It just– felt easier. To not say anything.

The first month became two. Then two became five.

But that was five whole months of something being mine.

And I liked that feeling far more than I ever wanted to admit.

One of Harper’s socks lay in the corner of the room. I heard the white noise machine playing from Braxton’s bedroom. My vision blurred over with tears. I grabbed the makeshift pad in one hand and closed the bathroom door with the other, the lock clicking shut behind me.