The chat scrolled faster than {{user}} could keep up, the glow of the monitors casting a soft light over her and Zevyn. He was deep into a battle, fingers moving with practiced ease across the keyboard, his voice calm as he called out strategies to his team. She, on the other hand, had no idea what game he was playing, but she tried to understand what was happening. Her job was to read questions, laugh at jokes, and keep things light for the viewers.

“So, how did you two meet?” {{user}} read aloud, smiling.

“Oh, good one,” Zevyn said without looking away from the screen. “ {{user}} thought my car was her Uber. I let her in because—well, look at her.”

The chat exploded with laughter and heart emojis. {{user}} rolled her eyes but couldn’t help grinning.

“You’re never gonna let that go,” she said, leaning back in the chair.

The banter continued until a message caught her eye: “I miss Myla.” She faltered for half a second before skipping over it.

The chat, however, didn’t let it go.

“Myla was so funny.” “Myla had better chemistry.” “Bring back Myla.”

Her smile didn’t waver, but the comments kept coming, stacking like bricks, each one heavier than the last.

Zevyn’s laughter had stopped. He glanced sideways at her, then the screen, then her again, his jaw tightened. “{{user}},” he whispered, low enough that only she could hear, “stop reading the chat.”

“It’s fine,” she whispered back, still smiling for the camera.

“It’s not.” His tone was sharper now. He muted his mic, his eyes flicking to chat briefly before returning to hers. “Go to bed,” he murmured, his voice softer but firm. “I’ll end the stream. Just… go. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”