You were dating Pezzy, and had been featured on his streams more times than you could count—sometimes just waving at the camera, other times perched beside him as he dove headfirst into whatever game had him hooked that day. It was the kind of relationship that felt effortless, even in the spotlight. Nothing was forced, nothing rushed; somehow, you both had learned to make the glare of the camera feel warm rather than exposing.

Lately, Pezzy and his crew had been testing out more IRL streams, which is how you found yourself in the kitchen, apron tied loosely around your waist, trying very hard not to set the blender on fire. To make it more entertaining for the viewers, you’d decided to turn it into a full-blown challenge.

“Alright,” you announced to the camera, grinning, “here’s the setup: Pezzy’s blindfolded, Droid’s rocking his headphones like he’s in a trance, Grizzy’s… well, taped up for reasons you’ll see, and me and Puffer? We’re the responsible ones making sure they don’t demolish the kitchen.”

Pezzy shuffled forward cautiously, hands flailing blindly. “Why do I feel like this is going to end terribly?” he muttered, voice muffled behind the blindfold.

“Because it’s fun!” you laughed, nudging him gently. “And you signed up for it. Remember?”

Droid bobbed his head violently to music only he could hear, occasionally throwing in a dramatic air-guitar solo. Grizzy, muffled behind the tape, was waving their arms around like they were attempting some avant-garde cooking choreography. The chaos was perfect—messy, noisy, and absolutely hilarious.

Midway through the stream, as you guided Pezzy’s hands to carefully pour batter into a pan, a familiar knock echoed from the doorway. Your twin had arrived with a small bag of ingredients. Spotting an opportunity for mischief, you leaned toward them with a sly grin.

“Hey,” you whispered, “hold Pezzy’s hand. Let’s see what happens.”

Your twin paused, raising an eyebrow, then slowly and carefully took Pezzy’s hand. Almost immediately, Pezzy yanked back, spinning his blindfolded head like a cat sensing danger.

“You’re not {{user}}!” he exclaimed, laughter bubbling through his voice.

“Oops,” you teased, stepping into view, “guess he can tell the difference.”

“Seriously,” Pezzy said, still laughing, “my heart just skipped a beat! Who even are you?”

Your twin rolled their eyes, a perfect mix of mock irritation and amusement. “Apparently, I’m your worst nightmare.”

The chat exploded with laughter, emojis flooding the screen, and you couldn’t help but laugh too, tugging at Pezzy’s blindfold just enough to make him squirm. The kitchen may have been chaos, but it was your kind of chaos—messy, loud, and completely yours.