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  Another issue that was freaking me out about telling my parents was that there was going to be a legitimate problem aside from my disappointment and frustration if my parents said no and tried to force me to come home. O2L had booked a minitour for that October, and if I got stuck in school back in Alabama it would ruin the opportunity for the rest of them.

  Connor Franta had recently told his parents that he was staying on the West Coast and they accepted it, which gave me hope. I’d watched all of Joey Graceffa’s videos about his decision to drop out of school and move to pursue his dreams. Both of them came through the same experience unscathed and with the full support of their families, and I prayed mine would have the same reaction.

  I think it was about three weeks before I was supposed to head home that I decided to finally get it over with and tell Dad my plan. Connor and Jc were both home, so I went out to the backyard and dialed my dad’s number. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he picked up and I suddenly had to talk.

  I blurted out my plan to him really fast so I wouldn’t chicken out, and squeezed my eyes shut tight while I waited for him to respond.

  “Well, I can’t say I didn’t see this coming,” he said, and I felt my whole body relax.

  “Seriously?”

  “It’s obvious you’ve been putting a lot of effort into YouTube,” he said. “And I’ve suspected for a while that this was the direction your life was going in. Your mom and I could both tell how unhappy you were at school last year, and really at the end of the day we just want you to be happy.”

  I was very relieved, and also filled with gratitude that I had a family who understood me and loved me unconditionally. I told him I didn’t expect any handouts, and that I was able to support myself financially. But there was still one last hurdle.

  “What about Mom?” I asked.

  “Let me talk to her,” he said. “I’ll help her understand. It’s all going to work out, and if for some weird reason it doesn’t, you always have a place back here at home.”

  I felt like crying with joy. I went back inside and threw myself facedown on the couch while Jc and Connor demanded to know how it had gone. After I told them, the three of us went out to dinner to celebrate and toasted to my new life.

  CHALLENGE

  #CONFESSFORRICKY

  Confess something to your parents or a friend that you’ve never told them. Keep it light, though. I don’t want anyone actually getting in trouble! I’m thinking more like that time you broke a vase when you were five and blamed it on the dog.

  CHALLENGE

  #STRANGERSINGFORRICKY

  Sing a song to a random stranger.

  SOCIAL

  Like I said earlier, when I first started watching YouTube, Shane Dawson was everything. (I mean, he still is, but you know what I mean.) He was the undisputed king of YouTube—funny, irreverent, random, sarcastic, but above everything else, TOTALLY relatable. I think all of us early YouTubers aspired to be like him, in that he was so incredibly unique and yet so universal. He said all the self-deprecating things we felt inside but were too afraid to admit.

  So when he contacted me out of the blue and asked me to collab with him, I freaked. I’d already been living in Los Angeles for around two months working on my channel, and I knew this was a huge opportunity. But much more important, I was going to meet one of my idols. And HE had asked to meet with ME! I mean, imagine you’re a huge Lady Gaga fan and you get an email from her out of the blue asking you to collaborate on a project. My head was basically exploding.

  I had actually met him once before at VidCon, but it was part of a huge meet and greet, so I knew he would have no recollection of the moment.

  He wanted to film at his house, and I was terrified for days beforehand because I knew his brand of humor. He could be pretty vulgar, and well, not mean, exactly, but pretty blunt. I was scared that he was going to be like that in real life and make fun of me.

  He didn’t live all that far from our place, so the drive went by really fast. My hands were all sweaty when I rang his doorbell and I half expected him to swing it open and immediately start critiquing my outfit or make fun of my hair.

  He didn’t, but one of the first things he said to me was, “So what the heck is O2L? Are you guys like the YouTube One Direction? Explain it to me.” But he didn’t say it in a mean way, he sounded genuinely curious. He’d heard a lot about us but just didn’t really understand the concept.

  He led me inside as I explained what we were about. I tried not to be obvious as I scoped out his place—everything was very clean and modern. I also had to keep myself from acting like a total fanboy. I couldn’t believe I was actually talking to Shane in person, in his own private territory.

  We sat down on the couch and ended up chatting for over an hour before we even started filming. It was definitely scary at first, but pretty soon I relaxed into it and before long we were talking like we were old friends, laughing at all the same stuff and bonding over how weird it could be sometimes to be a YouTuber.

  He had tweeted to his fans that I was coming over to collab and asked them for suggestions about what we should do. A lot of them knew who I was and knew I was a pretty innocent and clean guy. So of course he chose “sexual Mad Libs.” All the stories were themed around sleepovers. It was definitely a departure for me, but also sort of freeing. Since it wasn’t going to be on my channel, I felt like I could be a little more risqué than I usually am. My adjectives and nouns were nowhere near as gross as Shane’s, but I definitely branched out and tried to keep up without being too offensive. (I’m not going to repeat any of it here, but you can easily go watch the video if you’re curious.)

  Since that collab ended up being so raunchy I dialed everything down several notches for the collab that would appear on my channel. I chose to do the Jenga Challenge, a game invented by Joey Graceffa where a bunch of the Jenga pieces have different condiments and liquids written on them, stuff like horseradish, mustard, and baby food. You have to eat a spoonful of whatever you pull, and whoever knocks the tower down has to combine ALL the ingredients listed on the blocks into a blender and drink it. I was doing pretty well (and keeping things G-rated despite Shane’s best efforts to make everything sound sexual), but unfortunately I got a little too excited and hit the table. The entire tower tumbled down, and here’s the final recipe I had to drink:

  clam juice

  beef baby smoothie

  tartar sauce

  mustard

  horseradish

  powdered lemonade

  mayonnaise

  hot sauce

  chocolate syrup

  FREAKIN’ SARDINES WITH THE HEADS STILL ATTACHED

  We blended it all and topped the nastiness with whipped cream. Guys, I tried to drink the whole thing. I really did. I wanted to impress you and Shane with my bravado, but I spat out the first mouthful almost immediately. I sucked up all my courage, held my breath, and took an actual gulp, and that’s as far as I got. It tasted like toxic waste mixed with diarrhea and rotting fish, and while I love my viewers, I have my limits. Remember, I used to have a vomiting problem.

  By the time we cleaned up and I left Shane’s house I knew I’d made a new friend for life. We started texting a lot, and as my channel grew I constantly asked him for career advice and he always gave wise answers. I still consider him someone I can turn to whenever I have questions or need someone to talk to if I’m feeling upset. The whole experience was just like meeting Colleen for the first time—I was terrified to meet my idol, but not scared enough to feel like I had to change who I am.

  I wish I’d had that same self-confidence back when I was in high school. There were plenty of people whom I thought were really cool and I would have loved to be friends with, but I never had the guts to talk to them. I know this scenario with Shane is a little different because he is the one who actually invited me over, but I think no matter what, if you have people up on a pedestal, chances are they won’t be as hard to reach
as you think. Whenever I talk to someone about meeting Shane for the first time I tell that person how pleasantly surprised I was at how nice and down to earth he is. Not that I expected him to be a bad person or anything, it’s just that he’s honestly one of the nicest people I’ve met from YouTube. Even though we’ve gotten to be close friends, I still really look up to him as both a person and a content creator. He’s one of the coolest guys I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know. Hi, Shane! If you’re reading this, I hope it isn’t too awkward. But hey, read this in one of those videos you do where you make fun of YouTuber books! I’d be honored.

  CHALLENGE

  #NASTYSMOOTHIEFORRICKY

  That’s right—re-create this exact same drink and take at least one real sip. No cheating, I want to see you blend it!

  CHALLENGE

  #HOTSAUCEFORRICKY

  Gather up as many different kinds of hot sauces as you can and try them all. (Here’s a tip for after—milk works better than water for getting rid of the burn!)

  HEALTH

  For professional athletes, there’s nothing more terrifying than a career-destroying injury. For fifteen-year-old Ricky Dillon, there was nothing more terrifying than a bunch of seniors thinking I couldn’t deadlift as much weight as they could.

  See where I’m going with this?

  After I’d finally made the varsity tennis team my sophomore year of high school, we had about a month to prep before the season started, and a lot of that time was meant for weight training to help build up our arms. I remember walking into the gym after school and seeing a bunch of buff senior dudes grunting and picking up two-hundred-pound weights as if they were feather pillows.

  Since I’d had such a hard time making the team, I felt like I needed to prove myself to these guys. Never mind that no one had ever taught me how to lift correctly, or even told me that you were supposed to have a spotter. I just wanted to show these total strangers that I was worthy of playing tennis alongside them. If that meant defying gravity by picking up a hunk of lead that really didn’t want to move from where it was already resting comfortably, then I was going to go for it.

  I don’t remember how much weight I tried to lift. All I can recall is standing over the barbell, sneaking a glance in the mirror to make sure people were watching, and then bending over. Next came the searing pain in my back as a hunk of muscle tore away from my spine.

  I went straight to the school’s trainer and told him what had happened. By then the pain was already fading, but it was replaced by the horrifying sensation of strained muscle rubbing up against bone with every step I took. Every tiny movement reminded me that something INSIDE MY BODY had come loose.

  I was fully healed a month later when tennis season started, but only barely in time. I had to do a full month of physical therapy, including gentle workouts on this weird machine that made my arms spin around like legs do on a stationary bike. I also had to constantly swap out cold compresses throughout the day. It was so embarrassing. I couldn’t decide whether I felt more like an old man with my bad back, or like a child because of my dumb thought that I could do anything the big kids did.

  I’m very, very careful now in the gym. Almost to the point of paranoia, but the good kind that means you’re watching out for yourself. As soon as I was able to pick things up again after the accident, I made sure to learn the proper form and technique for every kind of lifting out there. And now I never, ever do any sort of really heavy lifting at the gym without a spotter by my side.

  I almost threw away all my years of hard work and practice to get onto the tennis team because I was scared about making an impression on some total strangers. It’s horrifying for me to think about now, but I also still understand why that self-consciousness exists in teenagers and adults alike. I used to have tons of gym anxiety. Gyms can be scary, intimidating places, which sucks because the whole reason they exist is so you can feel good about yourself. Whether you’re dealing with machine hogs or scarily beautiful people who look like their bodies are sculpted out of marble, you have to remember that they do not matter. When you are at a gym, you are the only one who matters. You’re taking positive steps so you can live a longer and fuller life. You have to find a way to not see the people that make you uncomfortable. Don’t be jealous of the person with abs you could break a nail on. Ask the person how he got them! In my experience people who aren’t wearing headphones at the gym are usually more than happy to talk or answer any fitness questions you have. You might even make a new friend. But leave them alone if they have their headphones on; that’s usually a good sign that they don’t want to be bothered.

  CHALLENGE

  #SPOTFORRICKY

  Go to a gym (or the gym, if you’re in school) with a friend and take turns spotting each other while lifting weights. If you’ve never done this before, make sure to ask a staff member or your gym teacher to teach you the proper techniques first, and go light!

  CHALLENGE

  #AUTOGRAPHFORRICKY

  Go up to a stranger and freak out, pretending the person is a celebrity. Ask for a selfie and get his or her autograph. Extra love if you get a friend to film it, and even more love if the person actually looks like a celebrity.

  SELF-EMPOWERMENT

  After my dad gave me the go-ahead to remain in L.A., I knew the next step was finding a real home. Sharing a room in Westwood with Connor was fun but the setup was basically a dorm. Plus at that point both Kian and Jc had moved into the living room. Four boys, less than five hundred square feet, and one bathroom doesn’t stay fun for very long.

  My lease on the place was up at the end of July, since that’s when my dad originally thought I’d be returning to Alabama, so we had to move fast since I’d waited so long to get permission to stay. The only place we could find on such short notice that had room enough for all of four of us was all the way out in Encino, almost a full hour away from all the best parts of L.A.

  This was right when the O2L channel started really blowing up, and the place quickly became known as the O2L house. Trevor and Sam didn’t officially live there, but they were over all the time. That house was the background for many of our videos, had its own Twitter account, and Jc posted a sixty-second tour that racked up over a million views.

  Connor and I both really liked our alone time after a long day, while Jc and Kian were super social. Jc loved to have people over and throw parties, and they were both also really, really into playing pranks. And not just for videos to post. One day I woke up to find that they’d tied my bedroom’s outside doorknob to another one in the hallway, so I was locked in my room. It was funny at first, then annoying, then really annoying when I realized I was going to be late for an important meeting.

  The entire year is sort of a blur in my memory because everything was happening so fast in terms of our career. Thank God most of it is on YouTube so it’s chronicled. When our lease was up we knew that we wanted to live closer to L.A., and that’s when Connor decided to move out and get his own place. It wasn’t anything dramatic—he was like me and just preferred a quieter environment. He was ready to step out on his own, but I wasn’t quite there yet. I needed a little more time to adjust to my new life, and I liked having the support of roommates. Jc and Kian made me feel safe (even with the pranks).

  Our next place was weird. The house itself was cool—it was located in the Hollywood Hills, had an awesome pool and hot tub, and even a secret little room hidden behind a huge mirror near the kitchen. There were only two problems with it. The first was that my bedroom was located right off the front door, so I’d hear everything and not be able to sleep any time Jc and Kian had friends over. The other problem was our landlord. He was nuts. He’d show up at random times and yell at us about nothing. There was also a huge freak-out when the guys dared me to jump off the roof and into the pool. Apparently the neighbors filmed it and called the landlord and he bugged out, saying that it was against the law (it isn’t) and that I was trying to hide it from him (I wasn’t; it was a
lready posted online).

  I’d been living in L.A. for close to two years at that point, and I finally felt brave enough to branch out on my own. I could be just as social as Jc and Kian, but I’m the kind of person who very much needs an equal amount of quiet time. Living in a house with other guys made it hard sometimes. I love them all to death, but sometimes I just need to be completely alone after a long day. It helps me stay productive and sane.

  That being said, I don’t know whether I would have lasted had I moved to L.A. by myself. It was so good to have roommates to help me adjust and grow comfortable in a new city, especially ones as amazing as Jc, Kian, and Connor. They gave me the confidence to grow and finally head out solo.

  I knew I wanted to live in a loft, and it didn’t take me long to find the perfect one in Venice, near the ocean but not too far away from the city. It was the perfect escape, a nest I could come home to after a long day of shooting collabs, recording music, or having important meetings and just chill out on the couch. I could watch all the TV in the world I wanted without worrying that a party was about to roll through the door at any moment. And no one tried to lock me in my bedroom anymore.