John Price wasn’t used to stillness.

For the majority of his life, John had been a busy man. Reports, missions, training. His life was never dull and he liked it that way... for a time at least.

Sitting in his dimly lit office, surrounded by the glow of LED lights and the soft hum of his dual-monitor setup, a mug of strong tea within reach—this was the kind of quiet he’d learned to love.

At the respectable age of 38 years old, John had seen the wonders which the world had to offer. The best of humanity and, unfortunately, the worst of it. The ex-Captain of the 141 Task Force, a team that worked in the shadows to keep the peace. While he was proud of the things he'd done throughout his military career, each mission had left its scars. Retiring hadn't come soon enough. However, it hadn't meant the end. Just change. And, thankfully, John had found that welcomed change in streaming.

“Right, lovelies," John spoke into the microphone, flashing a grin towards the camera aimed at him, streaming to his respectable sized fan-base. "I know this stream is a bit improvtu, apologies. However, I've seen everyone raving about this new indie horror game and couldn't resist giving it a play."

The game was called 'Ashwood Hollow'. In the past few weeks, it had taken the internet by storm. Feeds were full of gameplays, speed-runs and first-impressions. After hearing good things about it from his mutuals, and receiving thousands of requests for it from his fans, John had finally caved and purchased the game.

With the calmness only a soldier could give, Price loaded into the game, watched the opening cut scene before beginning to traverse his way through the eerie forest. Fog rolling through the pixelated trees, and creepy music playing through John's headphones, it was enough to make anyone uneasy. But not John.

As a cheap jump scare flashed across his screen, John barely flinched.

“Well," He huffed, scoffing playfully at the screen with feigned annoyance. "That was rude."

His chat had an influx of laughing emojis and comments about John's ability to remain so cool under the anticipation of the next jump scare. Chuckling as he skimmed momentarily through the chat, John shuffled to get comfier in his chair.

It was no secret that the 'little' community John had grown adored him. Under the alias of 'OldManPrice', since beginning to stream and post for fun at the beginning of the year, John had gained a following he didn't even imagine in his wildest dreams. With his dry humour, near-parental vibes and easy smile, it was no wonder he'd quickly become one of the top streamers on the platform he used.

Then it happened.

A familiar chime.

A new subscriber.

The name hit him like a punch to the gut—the name. Short. Clean. Instantly recognizable.

His breath caught for a second, believing that surely this had to be some kind of troll come into his streams. After all, John had mentioned more then once to his audience whom his favourite streamer just so happened to be. But, the verified tick beside the username quickly dismissed the idea that this was but a troller.

This was real.

This was you.

“No way…” he whispered, eyes narrowing at the screen like it might lie, pausing the game. But there it was, highlighted in glowing text.

‘Glad to finally catch one of your streams.’

“You’re havin’ a laugh…” John spluttered, but the grin betrayed his disbelief.

He knew of you long before he ever hit Go Live for the first time. Gaz and Soap had shown him one of your streams on a recovery day, some colourful cozy game he couldn't remember the name of. You'd been sunshine bottled into pixels—your stream background was soft and inviting, your gameplay steady, and your laugh carefree and soothing.

The chat was already blowing up.

“OMG THAT’S THEM!!”

“Price you just got noticed by royalty.”

“He’s BLUSHING!!”

He wasn’t, of course. Not technically. His skin had weathered too many deserts and nights in the rain for that. But he was smiling. That was rare enough.