This is ends today's video, hope you liked that. I'm Riley and stay cool, my friends. Subscribe, like, and share it on your social network of choice because that would so cool of you? I fail at everything except talking. Westwood's resident genderqueer...
Ditching class, counting solely on a old hall pass they’ve kept crumpled in their old pocket and the laziness of the hall monitors from keeping them out of detention’s hands, Mars kept a hand on the crinkled neon paper as they sped through the hallways in the hopes that it’s blinding color would be proof enough for those who watched down the hall. But their attempts to get out of the school unnoticed were foiled by the harsh clanging of metal on something, distracting them from their escape. Their steps hastened at first, expecting the worst, but slowed as they took in the scene. A hand flying towards their mouth to stifle a smile, their head tilted just the slightest bit in concern for the one at the center of the action. But at the words, they couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Shaking their head reassuringly, they held out a hand to gesture for a moment so they could collect themselves before speaking up. “Not even close, Universe. Mine’s down the other way; way, way down, at that.”
Piecing the scene together slowly, when the realization finally hit them their lips quirked up knowingly. “Is that — That isn’t your locker, is it?”
Gently lifting their hands off the chunk of metal they’d been grappling for the past twenty minutes, Riley turned round to the responder. Their initial panic subsided and their body relaxed, glancing down the hall where they’d indicated. Considering they’d been so frustrated for a while, it was a real juxtaposition to hear the other’s much more...jubilant tone. They continued to move slowly, taking a while to turn around, moving their feet with care, especially with more effort that usual. “Well,” they replied with a slight smile, but ever so quietly they were almost mouthing their words. “I’m desperately hoping it is because I’ve been giving the damn thing a good shake for who knows how long.” Leaning on the locker for emphasis, they huffed. It sure was not worth the effort to pry it open just for something as frivolous as class.
Breathing in and out, eventually slower, their smile grew to a more amicable expression with features softened. "So, wild guess, you're not out of class with a jammed locker, are you?"
Spending an entire period trying to wrench a locker open wasn't too bad. It wasn't like Riley gave a shit about their lessons in the first place. If they bothered to go, being without materials rid them of distractions and forced them to listen. They'd been trying everything from their lock's code over a dozen times to kicking it like a broken vending machine. Their exasperation was audibly evident when their loud groan accompanied the bell for class dismissal. Nevertheless, they continued kicking and pulling the locker door. The flood of people not helping their efforts.
"Oh, fuck," Riley uttered as they heard approaching, slowing footsteps. The doubt had been in their mind from the beginning but the possibility was only settling now. "Please tell me this isn't your locker."
That's a good question, a really good question. The thing Riley hates most is structure. Their videos can be distinguished into certain types, but they do overlap.
Some don't even fit at all—including the twenty seconds of them screeching into their camera after getting their hair dye wrong in freshman year. Somehow, that went viral. (Both their hair colour and video making game have improved since then.)
GARDEN VARIETY VLOGS;
To them, their life is interesting as fuck. Most might not care, and it's not necessarily an escape for anyone, but Riley will take their viewers on some goddamn adventures.
Summer '13 was a wave of city travel videos. Did people get bored of that? No worries, Autumn '13 was a whole bunch of cliff diving ones. Even then, it's not seasonal—just whatever pops up, changing it up to stuff that's still relevant.
Even then, exploring Heffes is pretty darn exciting.
LEARN MOTHERFUCKER LEARN;
The original title of a series now called "Social Justice Warrior Training", to comply with YouTube community guidelines, of course.
Most go for Laci Green or whatever to learn about feminism, but she's a little problematic. Clicking the playlist means a dozen videos explaining feminism, racism, homophobia, transphobia and privilege, to name a few topics. Riley gets straight to the point and doesn't waste time. The theory bores them, but god, some motherfuckers need to learn how to not be problematic.
SPECIAL GUESTS;
Riley hates being alone. Whether it's a collab with another YouTuber or just dragging someone into the video, there's a different person in each of their videos. Whether the poor person has to participate in dares or have a serious conversation, they're there.
There are classic "sitting alone in bedroom" types as well, but those are more reserved for updates and such. Each video is like a conversation and the camera doesn't make the perfect partner to talk with instant response.
MUSIC;
Notoriously untalented Riley's videos do indeed feature music. They practice their ukelele a lot, and their fingers are often in the wrong position—not forgetting the lack of rhythm Riley possesses. Singing is completely out of the question, but a few times, they've tried to jam with some YouTube based artists, usually the latest it-tune from SoundCloud just to double promote. Unsurprisingly, said artists' views and subscribers do skyrocket after featuring as well.
I’m sure he’ll get another one eventually. He’s never gone this long without one in his life. Seriously, if we see one when we’re out he stares at it like a puppy stares at his treats. You had me at idiot proof.
It’s totally worth it. I just have to train my parents to act decently enough to get away with it. You’re never too old for it, right?
I've always wanted to try one out, so don't blame him for doing that. Don't think I could own one because fuck that responsibility. No worries, the technology side of videos took me a while, 'specially if you wanna make it look nice.
They're boring kids so I hope not. It's good that your parents are chill about it. The real horror on Cherryhurst Street, eh, raisins.
Precisely why we need it. Nothing worse than the Pep Squad working their assess off for negativity. I'm not about that. Not getting into college with my academics so this is probs the next best thing for me.
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