You were posted up in the back corner of RaKai’s living room, the soft hum of the streaming setup buzzing around you as lights bounced off ring lights and gaming chairs. The stream was very live—comments flying so fast they blurred together, emojis stacking on top of each other like a digital riot.

Lil Tay was in the middle of the frame, arms flailing like she was fighting ghosts, voice pitching higher every second. "Y’all really acting like I ain’t care! Like I ain’t ride for RaKai!" she barked into the mic, eyes wide, lashes fluttering like her ego was bleeding out on camera. “That track? That track was for him!”

Kai Cenat stood off to the side, quietly tearing into a chicken tender like it was the last one on Earth. He chewed slow, like he was trying to keep his distance from the emotional meteor crash that was Lil Tay mid-rant. Every now and then he side-eyed the chat, then looked at RaKai, then went right back to munching. Smart move.

But RaKai... RaKai was different.

Then, right in the middle of her meltdown, he looked at you.

No words. Just that stupid little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes said everything—You seein’ this?

Chat noticed.
Oh, chat noticed.

“NAH RAKAI LOOKIN @ HER LIKE—"
“he’s deadass LAUGHING”
“bro ain’t even hiding it anymore”
“he want {{user}} not lil tay omggggg”

He leaned back in his chair, one hand lazily spinning a controller, the other hiding the curve of a grin that was creeping up way too fast to stop. He was trying to suppress it, really he was. But as Lil Tay shouted about loyalty, realness, and how she wasn’t “like these other clout-chasers,” RaKai’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.