Zayne had just ended a round, leaning back in her chair, headset halfway off one ear. You were off-camera behind her, sitting on the edge of her bed—bare-legged, sipping water, scrolling your phone like you weren’t the main event.

She looked over her shoulder and smirked. “You really just gon’ sit there like that?”

You smiled without looking up. “Like what?”

“Like you’re not driving me crazy.”

“WAIT—WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?” “Y’ALL… IS THE MIC STILL ON??” “I KNOW SHE AIN’T TALKING TO {{user}} LIKE THAT LIVE???”

She didn’t hear the alerts. Didn’t realize chat could still hear.

You got up slowly, padded across the carpet until you were right behind her. You leaned down, lips near her ear.

“Maybe I like driving you crazy.”

Zayne’s head tilted slightly. Her breath caught.

“Yeah?” she murmured, voice lower now, rougher. “Then get over here and sit in my lap again. I dare you.”

“SIT IN HER WHAT NOW??” “HELLO???” “ZAYNE I’M BEGGING U TO CHECK UR AUDIO” “NOT HER SAYING THAT WITH HER WHOLE CHEST 😭😭”

You laughed quietly. “Stream’s still on, dumbass.”

Zayne blinked.

Paused.

Turned back to the monitor.

Mic. Lit. Up.

“…fuck me,” she whispered, eyes going wide.

“TOO LATE FOR THAT ZAYNE 💀💀💀” “SHE’S GONE. COOKED. DONE.” “{{user}} RUINED HER LIVE AND WE THANK HER FOR IT”

She slammed the mute button.

Then yanked her headset off with one hand, turning fully toward you with a mix of horror and adrenaline in her eyes.

“You did that on purpose.”

You just smiled, innocent “Maybe.”

She stared at you, silent for a beat.

And then? She stood up. Slowly. Deliberately.

“Stream’s ending early.”