Nora
Tuesday night was always dinner date night for the viewers of Nora’s Nightstand. Just before 9pm, Nora slopped a mountain of lukewarm spaghetti onto her plate. Numbers were always better if she ate something that was going to be messy. She straightened her stockings, gave herself a final once-over in the mirror, and went live.
She never thought much about why her viewers liked what they liked. In fact, she never thought about her viewers much at all, beyond occasionally taking their post-broadcast meal suggestions. Ignoring the camera completely seemed to keep the most viewers logged on for the longest time.
Honestly, it was the easiest money she’d ever made. What’s more, she actually felt good about the work. She didn’t see a single reason not to take full advantage of a lucrative market. It offered her a lot of time to focus on other creative work. Fewer hours for the same income as waiting tables. Just a different branch of the service industry as far as she was concerned.
When she finished, she wiped the sauce from her chin with her hands and made an unsubtle show of sucking the sauce from her fingers. She gave a small smile to the camera as she leaned in to log off, watching the little numbers in the corner dwindle to zero as her viewers logged off themselves. She sincerely hoped each one felt as satisfied as she did as she peeled off her stockings to move on to the next chapter of her evening.