What kind of should Aiden face in the next chapter of his "career" as an internet stuntman?
"ItsGonnaHurt.com," he whispered, a crimson stain spreading across his teeth. "Upload that." ItsGonnaHurt.com - Aiden From Boston.mp4
Aiden reached out and clicked the remote. The machine hummed to life, a high-pitched whine that vibrated in his teeth. He braced his feet, hands clamped onto his knees. Thwack. What kind of should Aiden face in the
Aiden wasn’t a "stuntman" in the professional sense. He was twenty-two, worked a dead-end job at a pier, and possessed a terrifying lack of a self-preservation instinct. He leaned into the lens, his thick Boston accent cutting through the silence of the room. The machine hummed to life, a high-pitched whine
The basement air in South Boston smelled like old copper and damp concrete, but to Aiden, it smelled like an opportunity. He adjusted the ring light—a cheap thing that flickered if he breathed too hard—and checked the frame on his DSLR.
Aiden didn't scream. He just dropped. The camera kept rolling for three minutes—the silence of the basement only broken by the mechanical whir of the empty pitching machine. Just as the video was about to time out, Aiden’s hand appeared at the bottom of the frame, reaching for the tripod.