“Perfect acting”

Zoltan

Preparing for the interview was my worst nightmare. Even though I knew, Gellert wouldn’t be able to see me, suddenly my entire wardrobe (which consisted of only five sets of outfits) wasn’t good enough. I kept looking inside for a short moment, then ended up slamming my wardrobe’s door shut. The bang reverberated throughout the house, making me cringe.

Uh, what the hell was wrong with me?

Was it the fact, that not every day a famous LGBTQIA+ activist and blogger wanted to interview me? Me! Of all people in Budapest!

Actually… no. This wasn’t the problem. Nor was it the fact that he was gay, just like me.

What made me nervous were personal questions he would ask.

Apparently, that’s was what my viewers were most interested in. They’d already seen long documentaries about my most successful videos, I’ve published them on YouTube, of course without showing my face. I bet that they slept well, listening to my ultra boring voice… Talking to the camera in an engaging manner definitely wasn’t my forte.

I shook my head.

I couldn’t kept thinking like that.

It only made my stress worse.

I brought myself a drink, and sat back down in my computer chair. I tried to ground myself, by recalling reassuring phrases. Everything will be alright, Zoltan. You will do well. Speaking, how difficult could it be? You learned it at least twenty years ago!

I chose not to call Gellert on Skype, because I simply didn’t want him to judge me on how I looked. I knew he’d do it, cause, I always did it - I judged everyone at first glance. And once I’ve made my mind about a person, I seldom changed it. I was stubborn.

But then again, if I hadn’t been, I would have never experienced any creative success.

I looked outside of the window. The sun was already setting… I refocused on my computer screen. I had a document open, with some phrases prepared beforehand. I could use them, if Gellert’s questions turned uncomfortable.

And they definitely would. I never told anyone I was gay, mostly because, I felt like nobody would really understand it. Well, perhaps ‘nobody’ was an overestimation. People I knew wouldn’t understand.

It was so easy to hide behind a pseudonym. Being anonymous made me free. I could be myself, express my thoughts, I didn’t need to constantly bite my tongue or hide. I made my videos, and my whole world revolved around them.

All of a sudden, my phone’s ringtone brought me out of my ruminations. The screen showed Gellert’s name. Which was very old and grandfatherly, by the way… But then again, who liked their given name? I didn’t enjoy mine, either. It meant “sultan” - perfect for some spoiled brat, not me.

Even though I felt tempted to reject the call, and call off this interview, I knew it wouldn’t be right. I couldn’t waste Gellert’s time like that. I had to gather courage, and answer.

“Yes?” I said, a little too shyly than I’d like to. Oh, why was confidence so difficult to fake? Or rather: why didn’t I naturally feel any, even though, my YouTube channel had thousands of subscribers? It made no sense.

“Nice to finally talk to you, Silver Camera.” Gellert’s voice, deep and masculine, sounded surprisingly confident, as he greeted me. “I assume you know, who I am.”

It wasn’t a question, and yet, I laughed nervously, saying yes, yes, yes, of course.

God, I was even more terrified than I actually thought I’d be. Social anxiety, I really needed a good self-help book to fight it.

“I think everybody knows who you are,” I told Gellert, although actually, it was a lie.

I didn’t really know about him, until that e-mail he sent me. Yet, I wasn’t going to tell him, I wasn’t following his LGBTQIA+ news. I had nothing against him - or the news - but, it took me many years to toleratethe way I was born. ‘Tolerate’ was really the best word, it lay not far away from total self-hate, but not close to self-love, either. In between, I could say.

“Everyone knows who I am, just the way everyone knows who you are.” Gellert’s laughter resounded in the phone, making me shudder, bringing me back to the reality one more time. I really needed to stop being absent-minded! “That recent video of yours made quite the stir in our circles. What was it called again, Silver Camera?”

I closed my eyes, finally relaxing a little. I was so grateful for him not to ask any dreaded questions straight away… I exhaled sharply, and after a short pause, I replied:

“It was called Dear Past Self… I’m Really Sorry.”

I could practically hear him nod at the other end of the line.

“Yes, that’s a very moving title. Now, Silver Camera, why don’t you tell me, what life events inspired you to create a video with such a dramatic title?”

In that moment, my eyes snapped open. I was tricked, and didn’t even realize it! Now, it was too late… My stress kicked in once more. Gellert must have sensed it, as he lowered his voice and added:

“Look, we aren’t recording a podcast, this is just a phone call, ok? Nobody is listening to us. And also, you don’t have to tell me everything. Just the stuff you are comfortable with. I’ve read your bio, all your viewers have. What I’m looking for, is... a personal touch. I’d like to understand, what makes your inspiration tick, that sort of thing, how do you get these incredible ideas. So, don’t sweat, okay? I don’t bite, unless people consent to it.”

I was pretty sure that if I was sitting next to him, he would have winked at me. I kept feeling tense, but he was right. It was just a phone call. He’d write a blog post about it later, and publish it on his website after I gave him a green light. There was nothing to be nervous about, really.

With this brand new mindset, I ended up telling him quite a lot.

“Dear Past Self… I’m Really Sorry. was originally inspired by the song I’m so sorry by Imagine Dragons.”

“Is it your favorite song?”