Fiona didn't let the topic slide this time.
She put down the rag in her hand, walked right up to Shane, and put her hands on her hips. Her expression was serious as she interrogated him:
"Shane, look at me. Tell me the honest truth. These muscles, and all this 'research'... is it really just from self-study? You... you didn't touch anything you shouldn't have for quick cash or quick results, right? Or... is there someone we don't know about 'sponsoring' you behind the scenes?"
This time, Shane didn't use vague excuses to brush her off. He looked Fiona in the eye with complete candor, and his words began to outline the blueprint he had been constructing for a long time:
"Fiona, trust me. No illegal drugs, and no shady 'sponsors.'"
Shane first firmly refuted the suspicions, then continued:
"Listen, shooting videos costs almost nothing. The money I scraped together from taking tests and writing essays for those rich kids was just to buy some basic filming equipment. It didn't cost much."
"And Kevin—he's the starting point of my promo plan. The Alibi Room has a lot of customers, so he can help me advertise. Plus, filming his journey from 'beer belly' to six-pack abs will be the best material! That's way more convincing than any empty bragging."
Seeing the doubt in Fiona's eyes begin to dissipate, Shane struck while the iron was hot, revealing his core business model:
"Also, I'm not just counting on video views to make money." (In 2010, YouTube income was just ad revenue splits; you needed a million views to make a grand or so.)
"I plan to rely mainly on selling electronic fitness plans in the early stages. I'll take the training and diet plans I've researched for different body types and turn them into PDF files. Selling one for twenty or thirty bucks—that's pure profit with zero overhead! I can also take offline clients and charge by the hour. It's way easier and more lucrative than writing homework for a few dollars a pop!"
Finally, Shane concluded with an infectious enthusiasm:
"Look, this way I get to work out, learn new knowledge, and make money. There's literally no downside!"
Fiona's furrowed brows gradually relaxed.
Shane's plan sounded much more reliable than the worst-case scenarios she had imagined. The logic was clear, the reasons were sufficient, and it actually made her feel like... this might work?
Catching her softening attitude, Shane threw out the reason that would move Fiona the most.
His voice dropped lower, filled with sincerity:
"Plus, Fiona, if this succeeds and I have a stable income..."
Shane looked around the dilapidated kitchen as he spoke.
"We won't have to worry about the electric and gas bills every month. We can buy better formula for Liam. We can replace all these damn appliances that go on strike every other day!"
Finally, Shane looked straight into Fiona's eyes and said, word by word:
"I just want to do something for this family. To make it better. Just like you've always done."
This sentence touched the softest part of Fiona's heart.
She had sacrificed her youth for this family, shouldering burdens that shouldn't have been hers. The bitterness and grievance of it all—no one could truly empathize.
But now, hearing her brother say he not only understood her sacrifice but wanted to shoulder the family with her, Fiona's nose stung, and her eyes turned red.
"Oh, Shane... my little Shane..."
Fiona's voice choked up. She couldn't voice any more doubts. She stepped forward and hugged Shane tightly, patting him on the back.
After a moment, Fiona let go. She quickly wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand and put her tough face back on, though her eyes remained soft.
She looked at Shane and said solemnly:
"OK. I agree to this plan for now."
But... Fiona held up a finger, emphasizing to Shane:
"Remember! If there's any trouble, or if you need help, tell me immediately. Tell Lip, tell any of us! Okay? We are a family. Don't think you have to carry everything alone."
She poked Shane's chest hard with her finger. "We might not be able to give you much help, but at least we won't let you fall into a pit alone. Promise me..."
"I promise," Shane replied seriously.
After getting Shane's affirmative answer, Fiona let out a long sigh of relief.
She turned around and looked at the family members who had stopped what they were doing to listen to their conversation.
Clapping her hands, she returned to her usual loud volume: "Alright! Stop dawdling! Hurry up and clean this place up! Do you want to live in a garbage dump tonight too?"
---
After breakfast, the Gallaghers scattered like dandelion seeds once again.
Fiona took a shower and went out. It was her rare day off, and she had agreed to go thrift shopping with V—maybe she could find a decent coat.
Ian had his mandatory ROTC training at school on the weekend.
Lip most likely went to use his "magic hands" to fix a pipe or unclog a toilet for some "kindhearted" housewife.
Carl and Debbie had nothing to do today, so they nestled into the old sofa in the living room to watch TV.
It was just another ordinary weekend.
Shane returned to the basement. It was time to prepare for the video shoot.
He dragged a cardboard box out from under the bed. Inside was the first batch of "gear" he had prepared for his fitness influencer plan.
First, he carefully took out a camcorder. This wasn't some "futuristic" high-tech device; it was a Canon VIXIA HF R-series (specifically the R38 equivalent) that he had carefully selected on Temu.
Choosing this camera was the result of careful deliberation.
First, it was the right size—not much bigger than a phone—so it was inconspicuous to keep in a pocket or stash away quickly.
This would allow him to film on the streets of the South Side without looking like he was hauling professional gear, which would instantly make him a target for thugs and robbers.
Moreover, the image quality was sufficient. It supported 1080P Full HD recording. For the YouTube platform in 2010, this quality was quite competitive and enough to show off his muscle definition and training movements.
Most importantly, he didn't dare buy any advanced shooting equipment from the future.
If those devices embedded encoding or metadata in the video files that contained anachronistic information, and some bored tech geek dug it up, he wouldn't be able to explain it.
Although the System likely wiped that information, he didn't dare to gamble. The consequences of losing that bet were unimaginable. This was a Shopping System, not a Stat-Boosting System.
This VIXIA model was a product that existed in this era (or close enough to pass). Its origin was clear. Safety first.
Next was a stack of paper covered in dense handwriting. This was the persona positioning he had created for himself, along with the script for the first video.
Shane placed the stack of papers on the table and reviewed the character tone he had written by hand:
A mixed-race kid struggling to survive in the South Side of Chicago (using identity to increase memorability and storytelling).
The People's Fitness Coach for the working class!
Of course, the relevant storylines and character background were all ready to go.