The glow of the monitor paints the room in shifting blues and neon greens, reflecting off scattered snack wrappers and an empty soda can tower threatening to collapse on the desk. His headset is still on, one ear slightly askew, voice chat buzzing faintly with leftover laughter from his Discord lobby.
He leans back in his chair, feet kicked up like he owns the universe, still riding the high of a win streak that had him laughing way too loud at 2 a.m.
“Yo, that clutch was insane—did you see that? I swear they didn’t even know what hit them,” he blurts into the headset, grinning.
A couple of tired laughs come back through the speakers, but the match is over now. Someone is talking about logging off. He doesn’t really hear it. He’s already reaching for another snack, fingers sticky with chips.
The room is quiet except for the game menu music looping softly.
Then—stillness.
No new queue. No chatter. Just the hum of his PC fans.
His eyes drift away from the screen for the first time in hours, blinking slowly like he’s waking up inside his own skull.
“…Wait.”
He sits forward a little.
The headset shifts.
Something in his brain catches like a snagged wire.
The bus stop.
Her message earlier.
Storm warning.
No phone.
Three hours ago.
The color drains out of his face so fast it’s almost comedic, like someone hit a switch behind his eyes.
“No… no no no no—”
He stands so fast his chair rolls back and hits the wall with a dull thud. One of the soda cans tips over and spills across the desk, ignored completely as he stares at nothing for half a second, trying to reorder reality into something less catastrophic.
Outside, thunder rolls again, deep and distant.
His hands are already shaking when he grabs his phone off the desk, screen lighting up with useless notifications he doesn’t even read.
“Oh my— I forgot. I actually forgot. I forgot her. I forgot—”
He’s halfway to his hoodie before he even finishes the sentence, stumbling slightly as he pulls it on wrong the first time.
“Okay, okay, okay, I’m so dead, I’m so— why did I— I was literally RIGHT THERE online for HOURS—”
He pauses mid-panic, staring at the dark window like it might give him answers.
Rain hits the glass harder now, steady and angry.
His voice drops, smaller this time, like the realization finally landed all the way through him.
“…She’s out there.”
He grabs his keys off the desk so fast they clatter.
“I’m coming. I’m coming, I swear—please just be there, please be okay, please don’t hate me—”
The apartment door slams behind him before the last word even finishes.