Page 99 of Playing By Ear

“They’ve guessed it,” Jamie said.

Perry gave a warm chuckle. “You’re right. So without further ado.” He moved forward to lie on his stomach, chin on one hand, looking every inch a Calvin Klein model. “This is me. Hello there.”

Jamie tore his gaze from that entrancing face. It would be a right challenge to monitor the chat, the technical aspects, and the performance all at once.

“Unsurprisingly,” he told Perry, “they all think you’re hot.” He scrolled through the torrent of comments, blocking the typical miscreants: an arsehole making a homophobic remark, a drive-by spammer offering work-at-home riches, and a randomer yelling about Brexit. “CuriousLaForge wants you to take off the sunglasses.”

“Sorry, Curious, can’t remove these.” Perry tapped his glasses’ frame. “I’m not trying to hide from you. In fact, I’m here to share more of myself than ever.” He took a deep breath. “I need these because I have a condition called retinitis pigmentosa, or RP for short. Some people with the condition are sensitive to bright lights like the ones I use to film.” Perry adjusted the glasses, then swiped a self-conscious hand over his forehead. “RP has also made me blind.”

Jamie watched the comments flood past: disbelief, sympathy, and a few claims of having figured it out long ago.

Perry described the basics of his condition, then said, “You must have loads of questions, so fire in. My screen reader will speak them to me.” He turned his head and tapped his earpiece. He and Jamie had agreed to pretend Perry was alone, to maintain the illusion of intimacy. “I’ll answer what I can in ten minutes, then we’ll get down to business as usual.”

Most of the questions were standard, and Perry fielded them patiently: No, he didn’t have a guide dog. Yes, he could operate computers and smart phones. No, there was no cure or treatment.

Jamie started feeding him more interesting questions, which Perry repeated aloud before answering:

What’s the most annoying thing about being blind?

“Definitely public toilets,” Perry replied. “They’re all laid out differently, and while I can see people right in front of me, it’s hard to know whether they’re in a queue. The worst is when the wall is white, so I have to actually touch the urinal to avoid missing the mark.”

What’s the second most annoying thing?

“Not knowing where spiders are.”

Jamie started to scroll past the next question to avoid upsetting Perry, then stopped. This viewer was on the Always Read list.

“You don’t have to answer this,” he told Perry, “but I_am_the_Eggplant wants to know if it makes you sad.”

Perry hesitated. “Does it make me sad?” He looked down at his fingers as they smoothed the wrinkles on the sheet beneath him. “In a word, yes. I miss the things I can’t do anymore. I miss how easy my life was when I didn’t have to plan every wee jaunt, when I didn’t have to ask for help with the stupidest things.” He paused. “Most of all, I miss the stars.”

Something twisted in Jamie’s chest. Why had he never asked Perry this question? Had it felt too intrusive, or had he just not wanted to know?

Perry lifted his head. “I once had a Siamese cat called Chloe. Siamese are very talkative. They talk when they need attention, and they talk when they simply want attention. The key is to figure out which meow is an important signal. Is it supper time, or are they just being bothersome?”

Jamie tilted his head. Where was this going?

“Sadness is like a chatty cat,” Perry continued. “You can’t ignore it all the time, but if you react every time it pipes up, you teach it to be more insistent, and next thing you know, it’s running your life.”

Jamie gazed at him, the chat and its questions forgotten.

“It might sound strange,” Perry said, “but I’m not entirely sorry this has happened to me. My condition makes me see the world in a unique way, and it’s made me who I am. If I wasn’t blind, I don’t think I would’ve started camming, and then I wouldn’t have met you all.”

Jamie forced himself to check the comments. “They pure love you,” he told Perry, then said it again slowly, emphasizing each word.

Perry’s smile was bashful and genuine. “Anyway, I think there’s time for one more question.”

Jamie found one that expressed a common theme. “Why didn’t you tell them sooner?”

Perry’s smile disappeared as he repeated the question. Then he said, “I was afraid to lose you.”

His followers reassured him with words—and more importantly, with tokens.

“Here4theD says, ‘You could never lose us,’” Jamie told him. “God, these guys are sweet. By the way, it’s been eleven minutes.”

Perry clasped his hands together. “Question time over. You’ve been so supportive, I’d like to show my gratitude. So for one night only, I’m taking requests.”

Jamie scrolled through the barrage of comments. By singling out requests, he could steer this session close to the scenario they’d rehearsed. “Touch yourself through your pants. I assume Cann0n_b@lls means trousers.”