Page 144 of Stream Heat
“Victoria Smith and Nexus Management?” I said, and if there was venom in my voice, well, so be it. “They’re just the start. The entire industry needs cleaning up. They target young Omegas, non-trad Alphas, anyone who doesn’t fit their picture of ‘marketable.’”
Theo, never one to miss an opening, cut in, “Meanwhile, Quinn’s numbers as a fully claimed Omega are blowing up. Make it make sense.”
“It’s never made sense,” I shot back. “Management companies always claimed designation expression was bad for business. But it’s outdated. Audiences connect to authenticity, not fakes.”
Ash had enough stats to keep an accountant happy for years. “Since Quinn started streaming as a claimed Omega, engagement is up 347 percent. Retention’s up 89 percent. Subs nearly doubled.”
“In human words,” I summarized, grinning because for once the numbers were on my side, “being open is actually good for business. The exact opposite of what Nexus and their friends have been pushing on young Omegas for years.”
After that, the conversation just found its rhythm. We discussed tournaments and whether or not I was still competing, thanks to Ash’s adaptive gear for my sensory stuff I could say I was, then we talked content plans which was going to be a mix of solo and full-pack stuff, and finally the legal case against Victoria now with multiple creators adding their voices.
It all went smoother than I’d thought possible. Reid gave structure. Theo brought energy. Jace dropped wisdom like bombs, quiet but thunderous. Ash had the receipts and the plans. Malik made even the hard parts feel less sharp, more bearable. We were, I had to admit, a real pack, in every sense.
As we hit the two-hour mark, I glanced at the clock, and realized something had shifted. “Before we wrap,” I said, “I need to set one thing straight. Being pack hasn’t erased me or made me weaker. If anything, these bonds made me stronger. For the first time, I feel like the person I’m supposed to be.”
“Pack doesn’t erase individuality,” Malik said. “It’s fertilizer for it.” He smiled. “If I can use your garden metaphor, Theo.”
“Say what you want, Quinn still wipes the floor with me in one-v-ones,” Theo chirped. “Heartless.”
I smirked. “No mercy.”
Reid leaned in, voice like gravel but gentle. “The marks aren’t about possession or control. They’re about connection. Support. Chosen family. Every mark is a real relationship, unique in the larger dynamic.”
“And each one was my choice,” I said, staring down the lens like it was the only thing between me and the world. “Not because of designation, or heat, or biological imperative. Because I wanted these people. These bonds.”
The chat went nuclear.
THIS, this is rep we needed
quinn being omega and a literal pro is so badass
love how they all support each other, no stereotypes, just real
never seen poly pack explained this way before
I felt lighter. Like dropping a weight I didn’t know I was carrying.
“We’ll be addressing some of the more technical questions in future content,” Reid wrapped, already moving on to planning the next step. “We’re working on a series for designation health, recovery, and industry reform.”
“But for now,” I said, “we wanted to open the door. Yeah, we’re pack. Yeah, the bonds are real. No, this doesn’t mean our content’s turning into designation porn.”
“Though you should see the offers,” Theo snorted. “You wouldn’t believe what companies want to pay for exclusive heat content. There are entire attachment catalogs.”
“We’ve turned them down, for clarity,” Malik jumped in, dry as dust.
“Obviously, but the thirst is real,” Theo agreed, grinning at my expression.
I couldn’t not laugh. “Point is, we’re figuring it out as we go. We’re not selling out our privacy just for metrics.”
Jace’s voice was almost a whisper when he spoke, “It’s a balance. Authenticity, but not exploitation. Representation, not voyeurism.”
“Exactly.” I nodded. “And we’re figuring it out together. Stream by stream, one day at a time.”
The last announcements were a blur, honestly, I think Reid mentioned content schedules and maybe a tournament, Ash dropped some final numbers, and then the cameras went dark. I let myself slump in the chair, chest heaving with a kind of relief I hadn’t felt in years.
“That went well,” Malik said, always the first to collect himself.
“Better than well,” Ash replied, already glued to the analytics. “Engagement is off the charts. Execs will probably have a meltdown and a champagne toast at the same time.”
