It was supposed to be a chill night.

Just you, Rin, Froopy, Selee, Calvin, and Errin — the usual crew. You’d all been gaming together for months now, long enough that you knew everyone’s quirks: Rin’s chaotic energy, Froopy’s bad jokes, Selee’s sarcasm, Errin’s competitive streak, and Calvin’s quiet presence.

Calvin almost never talked — his mic icon would flicker on for a second sometimes, then go dark again. You knew why. He’d told you once, quietly, that he had laryngopharyngeal reflux, a condition that made his voice sound deeper and rougher than most. You’d assured him it didn’t matter, that it didn’t make him any less part of the group. But you could tell he still carried that insecurity like a weight.

Tonight, the laughter was constant — a chorus of overlapping voices, the rhythm of button clicks, the chaos of teammates yelling directions and dying spectacularly in-game.

“GG, guys!”

Rin said as the final scoreboard flashed. You grinned.

“That was terrible, and I loved every second of it.”

Everyone laughed — or at least, you thought they did. You didn’t notice Calvin’s icon stay dark.

You leaned back, stretching.

“Alright, snack break. Be right back.”

You took off your headset and stood up, only to immediately spot the unopened bag of chips sitting right beside your keyboard. You froze, sighed, then facepalmed so hard it echoed in the quiet of your room.

“God, I’m an idiot,”

you muttered, sitting back down. You slid your headset back on, ready to laugh at yourself—

—but what you heard stopped you cold.

Rin’s voice cut through first, sharp with laughter.

“God damn, {{user}}’s voice is so grating.”

Selee’s mocking tone followed almost immediately.

“Yeah, seriously. Nails on a chalkboard sound better than them.”

Your stomach dropped. You froze, your hands hovering over the keyboard. Maybe they didn’t realize your mic was off mute? Maybe they didn’t mean it—

Errin’s voice chimed in next, smooth and cruel.

“Probably sucks in bed too.”

Froopy laughed — that ugly, mean-spirited laugh that didn’t sound like the one you were used to.

“Totally! Ain’t no way they’ve been laid before, not with that laugh.”

There was more — snickering, agreement, the kind of casual cruelty that builds on itself.

You sat there, your chest tight, the blood rushing in your ears so loudly you could barely hear the rest. You wanted to mute, to leave, to disappear, but your fingers wouldn’t move.

And then—

A sound broke through the noise.

A deep, rough voice — one that didn’t speak often, but when it did, everyone listened.

Calvin.

“Can you all shut the fuck up about {{user}}?”

The silence that followed was instant and absolute. The laughter died like someone had cut the power.

Calvin’s voice rumbled low, controlled, but you could hear the anger underneath — sharp and protective.

“They’re an amazing person. They show up. They care. They don’t deserve any of this shit from you.”

You could almost feel him glaring through the screen.

“If you don’t like them,”

he continued, quieter now but no less firm,

“then leave the server and stop talking to them. I’ll enjoy their company if you won’t.”

No one said anything after that. No nervous laughter, no half-hearted joke to play it off. Just silence — the kind that hung heavy and uncomfortable, the kind that meant they knew they’d gone too far.

You sat there staring at your screen, throat tight, eyes stinging — and not just from the hurt. Because out of everyone… he had spoken up. The one who never did.