The studio is a converted garage behind our house that Evie sometimes traps artists inside when they’re on deadline for a show. It’s not in use right now, which means I’m living here. Yes, I have an actual room in the house, but the studio has everything I need: a loft space with a mattress on the bare wooden floor, a collapsing sofa, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. And of course, a fully equipped, climate-controlled, spectacularly lit artist space with more leftover supplies than a kindergarten class could use in a year.

Evie doesn’t care that I live out here for months at a time. I don’t think she really notices. She probably likes the quiet for the few nights a month that she’s actually home. I think she knows, vaguely, that I’m making cosplays out here, but so long as I keep my dirty little hobby a secret from her, she keeps her temper in check. So I’m careful to clean up and to never mention this stuff around her or her art friends.

But, because I guess I love danger and irony, I also set up a camera and record myself crafting for the entire internet to see, twice a week. What can I say? Some kids do drugs. Some kids start fires. I embroider in the dead of night, for the attention of strangers.

I use Ion for streaming. Everyone uses Ion for streaming. It’s sort of like this massive digital forum full of people talking into their cameras as they do their weird hobbies. But are they still weird if thousands of people watch and comment and subscribe? Not so much.

Some people eat and review takeout. Some people give personal updates while they polish silverware. Some people stream their latest virtual conquests in whatever games they’re playing. Some people watch scary movies with their jumpiest aunts.

On my channel, I create stuff.

Or rather, I create cosplays and narrate what I’m doing. And then I open up the stream to Q&As at the end. I’m not a huge deal, but I’ve got a few thousand subscribers and tons of return views from other cosplayers looking for tutorials. Mostly people lurk on my channel, keeping their comments to themselves. It’s hard to tell if people care, since users come and go and screen names change. Still, it’s comforting to spend time with these random strangers. It makes the long hours of crafting feel not so lonely. And on the plus side, if my mother ever discovers what I’m up to, my most loyal watchers will have a live viewing of me being incinerated by her laser eyes. What could be more special than sharing that?

I adjust my camera, then turn it on. I give myself a moment before starting the stream.