Page 64 of Holly Jolly Heat
The accusation that our connection was fake, that I was exploiting her for views, made my hands still on the keyboard.
"That's not—" I started, then stopped. How did I defend this without revealing too much? Without putting Michelle in an impossible position?
"Michelle is an incredible manager," I said carefully. "One of the best in the industry. I'm lucky to work with her. And yes,she's been gracious enough to let me and my team stay with her family while we create holiday content. That's not exploitation, that's collaboration."
Another cutting message came through, and the worst part was the tiny voice in my head that whispered,What if they're right?
"Lucas." Michelle's voice, sharp and clear from across the room. "Can you pause the stream for a second?"
I looked up to find her standing, laptop closed, moving toward me with purpose.
Oh no. This was it. She'd heard the accusations and realized?—
She walked directly into frame.
On camera. In front of seventy thousand viewers.
Deliberately.
"Hi, chat," she said, her voice pleasant but with steel underneath. "Michelle here. Lucas's manager. And I have something to say."
The chat exploded with excitement and support.
"First," Michelle continued, "to the anonymous donor suggesting Lucas is using me, you're wrong. Completely, categorically wrong. Lucas is one of the most genuine creators I've ever worked with. He's here because his content is better when he's relaxed and happy. He's here because my family offered hospitality. And he's here because I invited him."
Her hand landed on my shoulder, the same gesture from two nights ago, grounding and possessive and completely intentional. It was still just as awkward given that I was taller than her even when I was sitting on a stool at her family’s kitchen counter.
"Second," she continued, "suggesting that our professional relationship is somehow exploitative shows a fundamental misunderstanding of how creator management works. I fightfor all my clients. I defend all my clients. And yes, Lucas and his team are currently guests in my family home, because good management means understanding that creators are human beings who need support, not just metrics to optimize."
"And third," Michelle said, her voice softening slightly, "Lucas isn't hiding from 'real life.' He's living it. He's creating content he's proud of. He's building community. He's being authentic. And if you can't see the value in that, then maybe you're not part of this community."
She looked down at me, and something in her expression made my heart stutter.
"You okay?" she asked quietly, just for me.
"Yeah," I managed. "I am now."
She squeezed my shoulder once more, then straightened. "Chat, be kind to each other. Lucas, sorry for interrupting your stream. I'll let you get back to building."
She started to move away, but I caught her hand.
"Stay?" I asked. "If you want. No pressure. But... stay?"
In front of seventy thousand viewers, Michelle looked at our joined hands, then at me, then seemed to make a decision.
"Okay," she said. "But I'm sitting at end of the counter. I still have actual work to do."
"Deal."
She brought her laptop over and hopped up on a stool at the end of the counter, just like she said she would. She was close enough to be in frame if she wanted, far enough to maintain some professional distance, and reopened her laptop.
But she was there. In my space. Choosing to stay.
The chat celebrated wildly, and I tried to refocus on the game with Michelle sitting three feet away.
"Okay," I said, trying to gather my thoughts. "Where were we? The logs for the fireplace, right."
But my hands were shaking slightly, and my chest was tight with emotion.
