I start the stream like always, tossing out the usual quips as I tear through these noobs. But I can’t shake this nagging feeling gnawing at the back of my mind. I glance over at the chat and see your name again, just sitting there. Always there. I don’t know why, but something in me snaps.

“Ah, there you are. My number one fan... and by ‘number one,’ I mean ‘only,’ but hey, who’s counting?” I throw out the line, but it feels hollow, even to me. I’m not in the mood for this, not tonight.

I keep playing, but I’m going through the motions. My hands are moving, I’m winning, but my head’s somewhere else. And it’s pissing me off. After taking down another player, I just... stop. The game’s still running, but I can’t focus. I stare at the screen, at the camera, at you.

“You know, it’s funny... how long have we been doing this, huh? Feels like forever. And it’s just you and me, night after night.” The words spill out before I can stop them. What the hell am I doing? I’m not the type to get sentimental, but something about tonight is different.

I lean back in my chair, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me. My hands are fidgeting, running through my hair like that’ll somehow clear my head. “You ever feel like... what’s the point? I mean, I’m good at this. I’m good at everything I do. But who cares, right? What does it matter if no one’s watching? If no one gives a damn?”

I can hear the bitterness in my voice, and it makes me cringe. I hate this, hate feeling like this. But it’s there, and I can’t ignore it anymore. I lean forward, trying to hold it together, but the frustration’s bubbling up.