"Lets Ask Chat"

“No, Chat, don’t clip that.” Too late. Clip saved, and 998 viewers are watching.

Smiley laid on the floor for a few seconds. He had landed hard on his back, and wanted to groan in pain, but he got up, and took out his phone from the chest cage to look at Chat instead.

SimplySteven14: a full flip?

expiredtacosauce: somebody clip it plz

RickDiggler9: slowed and chopped

As security, his job was to ensure that “all assets of the venue are secure.” Smiley didn’t care all too much about that. He mostly cared about the hourly pay, and the thrills.

There’s a group of skaters trying to hop the main entrance stairs. Smiley’s on it. He didn’t even call out when he saw them—he knew these punks—and sprinted after them. This time, he almost caught one of the chubbier kids, but his foot caught a crack. He nearly fell, but with almost inhuman reflexes, he lunged forward, stretching his right leg two steps ahead. The move strained his hamstring, forced his pelvis to tuck under his torso, and tore the muscle just above his knee.

The skaters skated away with their fingers out towards Smiley as he slowed his run back to a walk. By his own estimate, the athleticism cost him his “patrol walk”, and his stream to shake and blur. Smiley thought to himself, no one saw it.

Chat told him that his camerawork was “Baghdad 2001 now,” but Smiley argued that his chest cage will keep the camera still.

As a way to prove the capabilities of his new equipment, Smiley approached the main entrance stairs of the Coin Arena. Each step on the stairs had to be about as tall as a soda can, and as wide as a pizza box. At most, Smiley would be jumping four feet. With his leg healed, Smiley could have easily hopped over the five stairs. With his leg healed, Smiley could have easily extended his right leg out over the last step and 360 over it while skipping.

But his leg was still hurt. His heel caught the last stair—and with the new chest camera strapped on, Chat watched the world flip upside down.

It would have bothered Smiley more that he fell, but the 998 had gone to over a thousand, and Smiley couldn’t help but smile. With six hours left to his shift, and six hours left to his stream, and it being close to midnight, he knew that if this became the highlight of his stream, his streaming persona would be set. They would call him StumblingSmiley, or InsecureSecurity, or maybe just Stumbly. Smiley had a legacy for himself to begin, and he wanted control over it.

“Chat chill with the clips. I almost made it. My knee is hurt is all. I can make the jump.” Smiley made his way up the stairs again.

HugeHotDogs: fail part 2

Mr.NiceMen: Don’t try it.

TheBabbler9: Stumbly gonna try again?

At the top of the stairs, Smiley took one last look at Chat and grinded his teeth before putting his phone back in its cage. This time Smiley took a few steps back from the stairs. Before he began to run, he looked out past the stairs towards a single street light illuminating Hudson Street. During the day and early evening, the street would flood with cars and people rushing into the Arena, and hundreds of lights and horns and chants would fill the air. But at this hour, the streets were dark and silent.

From Chat’s point of view, the streetlight flared the lens of his camera with a bright yellow. When he approached the first step, he made sure to push off with his left foot. Chat got a quick view of the streetlight in stillness before the view suddenly went back to the stairs, and over again to the streetlight. As he landed, the view shook the stream again.

“Clip that chat!” Smiley wobbled on his knee as he spread his arms wide over his head. The streetlamp hummed behind him. Look at the show, Smiley thought to himself, and quickly took out his phone from the cage.

Mr.NiceMen: Great job

Uhhitsjacob: 360 over the stairs?

TheBabbler9: How’s the knee?

It had gone back to 980. Smiley stood looking at Chat flood with more messages about his content.

Mr.Nicemen: What’s next?

DevilMayType666: do a flip over the stairs this time

HeroSandwich7: where is this?

ChronicDreams: Smiley get yo ass to work

“Chill Chronic, I’m working right now. Perimeter secured. Not a skater or homeless or 51-50 in sight.” Smiley began to put his phone back into its cage. “Chat, don't listen to him. Chronic work with me. But he has lunch indefinitely. Right C? Unless you want to come out here and walk with me.”

ChronicDreams: I’m still on my 10

Smiley laughed at his phone, and kept looking at the messages.

HeroSandwich7: Meta stream is crazy wya?

ChronicDreams: We at the Coin Arena

TheBabbler9: Shouldn’t be streaming while working

“We got cameras all around the venue. I’m just an extra live camera. Technically, I’m doing two jobs right now.” Smiley couldn’t help but laugh at his bluff. He diverted the attention away by saying, “C, you shouldn’t be saying we’re at the Coin.”

ChronicDreams: Big ass sign on stream not obvious enough

TheBabbler9: We’ve known

Currently, the phone had been pointing at Smiley’s feet, but while on patrol it's more than highly likely that the large red “Coin Arena” neon was in the background of his stream as he patrolled.

Smiley had never had this many viewers before, and now the small virality exposed hundreds of strangers to his exact location. Chronic knew this, but Smiley had only been thinking about how if at least 50 of these viewers subscribed that could lead to about five hundred dollars of monthly revenue. With that, he could probably start working part-time. Reaching over a thousand views was accidental, but maintaining them would require legacy. Smiley couldn’t help to think: what would it take?

Then a thought reached Smiley, and he put his phone back into the chest cage, and began his patrol again. During the day, these patrols would consist of checking the arena’s blind spots for homeless, crackheads, smokers, couples... Every type of person that wanted to hide in public. During Smiley’s shift, it was mostly crackheads and homeless.

But there was this homeless man, who liked to sleep by the office tower just to the left of the main entrance. These offices were connected to the arena by a bridge. During the day, security used the breezeway under the bridge as a way to get guests in line out of the sun, but at night the breezeway lacked furniture and made for unappealing accommodation for most, but for Well-Fed Fred, not having the fear of rain made the concrete a king mattress.

Smiley found him curled up hugging one of the pillars beneath the bridge with his belly hanging out of his shirt. “Chat, Well-Fed Fred here can eat anything.”

Smiley let Fred sleep under the bridge because Fred asked if he could. When Smiley first started working at the Coin, he would politely ask the “in-need” to get off the property. Most of them would argue with Smiley that the sidewalk was not the Arena’s property, but Smiley’s supervisors told him to respond to any push back with, “Coin Arena owns all surrounding sidewalks touching the venue”, but neither Smiley and the homeless knew if that was a fact, and these conversations made the 25$ an hour not enough. Soon, Smiley stopped politely asking and only demanded. Anytime any of them gave him any lip, he chirped his radio for back-up, and most of them left after that.

Fred didn’t argue like the others. Drunk and sweating, he said, “Hey man, I know I’m not supposed to sleep here, but… can I?” and burped.

“No. Get off property.” He could smell the alcohol in Fred’s breath, and see his belly hanging from under his shirt, and read the name Delialah tattooed on his neck, and hear the whistle from his missing tooth with every wheeze, and Smiley couldn’t help to sigh and say, “Where are you going to sleep here?” While looking around at the empty breezeway.

“Right there.” Fred pointed at one of the pillars at the corner of the bridge. “It’s away from the cameras.”

It was, and that made Smiley mind up about it. “Alright, but you got to get out of here by sunset. My shift ends, and they got office people coming in, and they don’t want to see any homeless people around here. Got it?”

Fred nodded his head, “Of course, sir thank you.” He bowed quickly, and began to rub his belly, and asked, “Do you have any food?”

“No, I don't got any food, and don’t start asking me for shit.”

“Come on. Please? I’ll eat anything.”

“All I got is this melted chocolate in my pocket.” Smiley took it out and Fred snatched it from his hands. “Damn, I saw some half-sandwiches in some of the trashcans too if you're that hungry.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” After eating the chocolate, Fred took out a bottle of whiskey, rinsed his mouth with it, and swallowed. “Where did they get the sandwiches from? Mikey’s or Daisy’s?”

“Man, I don’t know. I was only half-joking”.

“Tourists always throw out the Philly’s from Daisy’s because they can’t handle the jalapenos. The to-go boxes are these nice containers, and I just take them out. No trash on it or anything” Fred looked around towards the planters. “Which one was it?”

“I’m not gonna lie, I think it was Mikey's.” Smiley shoulders relaxed, and he felt more comfortable with letting Fred stay there. “It should be the one right by the intersection.”

“The pastrami got too much mustard, but you gotta let it soak into the sourdough, but these tourists, man. Impatient.” Fred shook his head at the thought.

“You well-fed huh?”

“Homeless, but never hungry”. He held his stomach like Santa Claus as he giggled.

Smiley couldn’t help it and joined him, and ever since then, Smiley let Fred sleep there, and he was always gone by sunset.

“Fred. Get up. I got you on stream.” Smiley was at Fred’s feet tapping at his ankles. He took the phone out of the cage, so he could look at Chat. From their point of view, Fred was gripping tightly onto the bridge’s pillar.

HeroSandwich7: is that guy okay?

HugeHotDogs: hes dead.

ChronicDreamer: that just Well-Fed Fred. He be sleeping

TheBabbler9: get him out of there. He cant be living rent free.

DevilMayType666: call the cops

“Nah Chat, you got it all wrong. This is Well-Fed Fred. He can eat anything.” Off camera, Smiley kicked Fred’s ankle a bit harder. “Ain’t that right Fred?”

“Huh.” Fred’s eyes were bloodshot as he blinked them open. “Why you waking me up for?”

“I got you on stream Fred. The people want to see you.”

On camera, Fred was struggling to turn his neck away from the pillar to look towards Smiley. The bloodshot in his eye made him look like he was suffocating just to talk. “You got me on camera man?”

“Only if you want to Fred. Chat wants to see you eat. Ain’t that right, Chat?”

TheBabbler9: Yes, make him eat.

HugeHotDogs: he don’t look hungry

DevilMayType666: make him eat concrete

expiredtacosauce: feed the homeless

“Look, they want it.” Smiley turned the camera toward Fred so he could see the messages from Chat. His eyes widened from the brightness of the screen, and he could barely make out the words, “make him eat”.

“What am I gonna eat?” Fred got himself into a sitting position, and Smiley turned the camera back toward himself.

“I don’t know. Maybe C can bring you some of his lunch. How about it C?” Smiley looked at Chat for Chronic’s response. His real name was Chris, but he had told Smiley before that he didn't want his real name out there on the internet. Smiley didn’t care too much for that for himself, but he started calling him C after that.

ChronicDreamer: I’ma bout to start my 30.

TheBabbler9: Didn’t you just take a 10?

HugeHotDogs: make him eat trash

DevilMayType666: Concrete!

TooTurntTimmy: Feed Fred

At the corner of his screen, Smiley could see that his viewer count had gone up to 1,200, and now 1,208, and then 1,210, and all he could think about was the time Fred told him about Daisy’s to-go containers. Smiley scratched the back of his head as he said, “Damn,...Chat wants to see you eat garbage Fred.”

Fred's eyes frowned. “I had a Philly earlier, and the lid was only half-closed. I’m not in the mood for that.”

“But you Well-Fed Fred. You telling me you ain't hungry Fred?” The view count stayed at 1,210. “I tell you what Fred. You eat something from the garbage, and I’ll buy you a fresh sandwich. Your choice?” 1,215.

Fred wobbled to get himself up. Smiley didn’t help him. For Fred to get up, he had to hang his gut over his knees a bit before setting himself up straight. “A Pulled Pork from Daisy’s?” Fred’s lips salivated and he licked them quickly while rubbing his chin. No one ever buys him food. It’s always advice and coins. “Alright, and just one little thing from the can?”

“Yes, Fred, you can choose what you eat from there too.”

Both Fred and Smiley made their way to the corner garbage can on Hudson street. Fred looked inside and saw half-eaten hot dogs, peeled bananas, soda cans, broken chains, bags of dog poop, but under a greasy pizza box, Fred saw a torn piece of deli paper wrapped around a pastrami sandwich from Mikey’s.

Before lifting it from the pile, Smiley stopped him, “Hold up, Fred, let Chat see what’s in the garbage.” 1,299

TheBabbler9: fake till we see inside

TooTurntTimmy: Fred’s not really homeless

Snakeboots98: what’s he doing by the trash?

1,342. Smiley took his phone over the garbage hole, and Chat could see the piles of discarded food, but they couldn’t smell the sour milk and molding cheese. They couldn’t hear the fruit flies buzzing. They couldn’t feel the stickiness of the deli paper over the pastrami as Fred picked it from the pile. 1,532.

“Over 15 hundred people watching Fred. You got to do it. Chat, let's give him a chant.” Smiley fist pumped the air, and started chanting, “Well-Fed Fred, Well-Fed Fred…” Across from them, a car slowly drove on Hudson, and went under the streetlight in front of the main entrance, but quickly disappeared into the darkness again. 1689.

TooTurntTimmy: Well-Fed Fred!

Snakeboots98: Well-Fed

HugeHotDogs: Fred!

DevilMayType666: Eat IT!

TheBabbler9: Eat it.

Fred did not wait for Smiley to show him the chat, and he bit the pastrami. He could taste the mustard, but the smell of spoiled food engulfed his tastebud, and he gagged a bit, and threw it back into the rotten pile. “There, can I get the Pulled Pork now?” Fred was whipping his hands on his chest. 1888.

TheBabbler9: He has to eat all of it. Wth.

DevilMayType66: All the trash!

HamburgerHarold99: tell him to find a burger next

SimplyStanley14: that was kind of lame.

1850. Smiley frowned at the sudden loss of views. “Chat wants you to eat all of it, Fred.”

“Ah come on now. You didn’t say anything about that.” Fred looked angry, but all he could say was, “A deal's a deal?” and extended his hand out like he was asking for money, but then pulled back.

“We’re almost at 2000 viewers, Fred, but they’re leaving now because they want you to eat the whole thing.” 1845.

“What’s that got to do with me?” The back of Fred’s head itched fiercely. “Look man, you gonna get me my Pulled Pork?”

TheBabbler9: No, don't. We said one whole thing, not one bite.

Mr.NiceMen: Aw come on he took a bite.

DevilMayType666: Make him work the hour for it.

“Chat is saying you got to eat the whole thing for that Pulled Pork”. Smiley stood half a foot taller than Fred. 1,703.

Fred rubbed his belly, and said “I already feel my stomach hurting, Steve.”

Smiley and Fred never exchanged more than a few words a night. He might have told him his real name during one of those nights, but he never heard Fred use it before.

“How about you just give me a dollar. I’ll save some for the Pull Pork tomorrow. There’s this one lady who comes in early before I leave that always gives me a dollar. If I work the 5 exit tomorrow, I can probably get enough for a combo.” Fred smiled, tongue poking through his missing tooth. 1,689.

Smiley’s chest tightened. He looked at Fred, then at his viewers. 1,500.

“No, that's okay Fred. Come on, let's get that Pulled Pork.” Smiley ended the stream at 990.