About Family, Money and Beautiful Girls: Part 2

3 weeks later.

— This is ♂finger♂ .

P-Sch-U-U-U-U-H!!!

— And this is ♂anal♂. Your cost is ♂three hundred♂ and ♂three hundred♂ is Money!

Raising the enemy by stun and thrusting an ult into him while he is still in the air, I hum an impudent plagiarism of one cheerful gachi song from the old world. However, I'm definitely not ashamed. The fifteenth stack of the finger in the pocket, we go on. Lyon, although he got a pair of boobs, otherwise remained the same. An angry inscription pops up in the chat line: [I'll come home and ride your daddy, you stupid bitch!]

"I went, as they say, to meet a girl! I drove up myself, I inserted it myself, and she is also dissatisfied!" — I say into the microphone in a cheerful voice.

What am I doing here? I'm streaming. The number of viewers, the first one for 30 thousand and the top donation of 1200$ warm my black, gold-hungry heart. How did it happen? It's very simple. After a little digging in the network and finding out that the boys selling their faced have gained a lot of popularity, I decided to try to get attached to a common feeder. But it makes no sense for me to compete with all sorts of models and Instagram bloggers because of their number, heaps of funds that they, or rather their faithful, spend on maintaining their appearance. Well, you shouldn't forget about my reluctance to get into this shit either. So I decided to look at the question from another angle. The entertainment and computer games industry in particular is developed here in the same way as in the old world, everything is fine with the Internet too. It follows from this that streamers are also popular here. Going to the existing and here Twitch, to my surprise, I did not find a single streamer guy who would focus his efforts exclusively on games. All sorts of reviews, reactions, reviews of reactions and other talk — please. Pure gamers are not. No, they played, but more for show. Having sensibly reasoned that it was better for me to have fewer competitors, I began to act.

It was not difficult to register an account, create and link an e-mail. There were no problems with hardware either: Jane had a pretty good computer that could pull all the necessary software. It remained only to find a suitable game. After a short search, I felt my heart flutter in anticipation, because I saw HER badge. Yes, it was Dota 2, practically no different from the one I knew before. Yes, many heroes changed their gender, the items were slightly different, and the patches were not 1 in 1 copies "from there", but it was her. And that was fine.

I really love this game and was very happy to meet its alternative version here. While still a students, the boys and I gathered in the same room in five laptops, and played from morning to morning, maintaining an indescribable atmosphere with jokes, banter, cries of rage and joy. And when that time passed, I continued to go to a match or two from time to time. I was not a professional and compared to 11k mmr bisons, my 4k did not look at all, but I was satisfied.

It was a jackpot. After running a couple of test games to get used to it, I got down to business. Literally on the very first day I managed to collect 10 thousand viewers and almost two thousand dollars of net profit.

And so, to date, spending three seven-eight-hour streams a week, I have collected almost 30 thousand. A complete success.

Jane continues to work as a dispatcher, having refused part-time jobs, and after the consequences of the chitauri invasion were almost completely stopped, spends much more time at home. Several times we even went out to the city together, collecting envious glances for my sister and greedy ones for me. The ladies were probably terribly jealous of the lucky girl, but we didn't care — we weren't in a hurry to tell anyone that we were relatives. No one touched us — and that's fine.

There were no problems with the allowance either. The trip to a private psychiatric clinic named after some honorable lady turned out to be quite simple. Do not consider a few simple tests as an inconvenience, but an hour of waiting until all the necessary documents are prepared? So now I will be a happy recipient of monthly payments in the amount of two thousand US dollars.

A funny incident happened last week when I decided to show Jane my success in the financial field.

***

"Where did so much come from?" — the girl looked at the number on the wallet from my phone with round eyes.

"I earned money on streams." — i replied.

"S-streams?!" — she jumped away from me, as if doused with boiling water, tripping over the sofa on the way and falling on it with her fifth point. Cheeks were burning red with might and main, and a rather big chest was swinging up and down, like a pendulum, due to frequent breathing.

"What?" — I didn't understand such a reaction from my sister at all.

"But you can't! Just... just can't do that!" — Jane suddenly jumped up from the sofa and grabbed my hands. A look determined to "hide" (it is unclear what exactly), frowning brows and pouting still red cheeks made her face very cute. So much so that I wanted to hug this miracle and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze... but I restrained myself. Instead, I freed my hands from the grip and dragged the girl into the room with the computer.

:It seems that we misunderstood each other. Here, look," — I point my sister to the monitor, where the page of my channel on twitch is open.

"Twitch? So you stream games?" — Jane's voice was a mixture of surprise and relief. The embarrassment, however, only intensified. — "And I thought that…"

— "I am moonlighting as a webcam model?"

"Idiot." — said the sister and turned away, folding her arms under her chest. And with a leg like that, top-top, for greater persuasiveness of universal resentment.

Laughter rang out in the room. I laughed heartily, it seems even tears flowed from my eyes. I never would have thought that someone could tie up a streamer guy and ass-shaking on camera. The features of new world in all its glory, damn them. After I've finished laughing, I hug my still sulking sister from behind.

— "You gave the heat, sis."

***

— "Thank you all very much, I'll see you in 2 days at the same time. Bye!"

Turning off the stream, I go out to the kitchen, where Jane has already prepared dinner. Today is her day off.

"What do we have today, sis?" — I sit down at the table, on which there are already plates with something delicious-smelling.

"Mushroom soup and steaks." — my sister answered me. — "By the way. I found your sweetheart's number. Look into the messages later."

"Oh, that's great news," — really great, but it's too late today. I'll call tomorrow and hope she agrees to meet. — "and she's not a sweetheart."

Tomorrow promises to be interesting.

***

The next morning.

Catherine Walker.

A corporal of the US Army National Guard on vacation and just a beautiful girl.

Katherine was born and raised in the Bronx. In a small family of three people: Herself, the eldest (for 3 minutes!) Sister Susan and mother Martha. There was no father, the mother used artificial insemination and gave birth to two beautiful babies. Unlike Sue, who graduated from high school and university with honors, Kat could not succeed in education — somehow completed college was her limit and the girl had to spin. The family, of course, helped and supported, but the girl was categorically not to her liking to sit as a freeloader on her mother's neck. After a couple of years of unsuccessful attempts to get a more or less normal job, the girl decided to enlist in the army. And this time luck smiled on her. It was very prestigious in itself to be assigned to the National Guard unit stationed in her native New York after training, so the fact that Catherine did not have to go somewhere to Afghanistan or some other hot spot was also a bonus.

After a year of impeccable service, the girl, beaming with contentment, came to visit her mother, showing fresh corporal stripes — the result of her hard work.

For the sake of such an event, even Susan was able to break away from her work as a lawyer and came to congratulate her sister. A spontaneous family dinner that day was held in a warm atmosphere with funny jokes about "all the guys are yours now".

And a month later, the Chitauri invasion happened. And if it hadn't been for that guy, Catherine would have been dead by now. When she returned home, after she was discharged from the hospital and sent on a two-month vacation, handing over the insurance for the injury, her mother and sister did not let her out of their arms for a good two hours. And then there was a drinking party, where all three women released their fears and worries along with tears. It became easier. The loss of comrades no longer hurt the girl's soul so much, and the army psychologist, whose weekly sessions Kat never missed, knew her business.

Thoughts of Connor, the guy who saved her that day, could not leave the girl's head.

[If we survive, I'll ask you out] — she remembered the words he said at the meeting. It's been a month since then and he's probably already forgotten about her. Such a brave and determined young man is unlikely to be interested in a weak girl. Namely, Catherine showed physical and moral weakness then. So much so that Connor was forced to make a promise that he would never fulfill. Most men, as a rule, are looking for partners with a higher income, and although Connor did not look like a timid, simpering boy, the girl doubted that he would be interested in money like her. There is not much to offer for a soldier's salary.

But despite the realization that this was impossible, there was a timid hope in Kat's heart. Stupid, irrational, but she was and made Katherine's thoughts periodically return there, to the streets of the city, where the two of them were trying to survive and get to a safe place.

[He called me Katya. As I later found out, in the Russian manner] — The girl thought, sitting on the couch watching the news. There was a report on TV about the restoration of the Stark Tower and its renaming into the Avengers Tower — a team of heroines that were able to stop the invasion. — [Does he have Russian roots? Damn it! What am I thinking about! It's like a damn prince in a tower waiting for his maiden knight! Forget it, Katya... a-a-a-argh!.]

The irritated girl turned off the TV and was about to go to the shower when she was stopped by a phone call. Picking up the phone, Catherine noted that the number was unknown and pressed the "accept" button.

— "I'm listening."

"Hello. You are concerned about the Oriflame company. Don't you want to buy a vacuum cleaner and talk about our Lord Jesus Christ?" — the speaker sounded suspiciously familiar voice.

"Excuse me?" — The girl could not find an answer.

"Katya, have you really forgotten me? And this is after everything that happened between us..." — they stretched out from the tube in a now definitely familiar voice. Oh, goddess! It's him!

"Connor?!" — a whole school of butterflies suddenly exploded in my stomach with flapping wings, and my heart suddenly asked for an exit. — "And... and what kind of company is Oriflame?"

"Never mind." — the guy answered. — "This is a difficult joke and it's not for everyone. I wanted to ask, well, would you like to meet in Central Park?"

"Yes! I'll be there!" — the girl was ready to jump on the spot with joy.

"Great! Then see you soon." — The phone was dropped from the other side, and Catherine tapped on the keys with the speed of a sewing machine, keeping contact in the phone book. Having finished with the important business, the girl skipped to the kitchen, where her mother was preparing breakfast, not paying attention to the pain in her leg that still hadn't gone away to the end.

"Mom! Mom! He called!" — Rushing into the room like a hurricane, the girl jumped around the table.

"The boy you were talking about?" — The woman asked, looking up from cooking.

— "Yes!"

"Then what are you waiting for, run to the shower, and then get ready!" — Martha immediately developed a vigorous activity after hearing the news.

He didn't forget! He found her number and called her to a meeting!

If it's not a miracle, then what is?