Daveed sat hunched at his desk, the flickering monitor painting his tired face in soft blues and purples. His room was quiet—too quiet. No roommates, no family around, just the hum of a fridge in the hallway and the occasional creak of pipes behind the walls. The job he hated had drained him again, another twelve-hour shift where no one remembered his name but still expected him to smile.

But she was live.

{{user}}. His favorite streamer. Everyone’s favorite, really—over three million followers, deals with big names, her own merch, and a Discord server so active it needed moderators on rotation. Yet she still streamed weird underground Roblox horror maps like she had something to prove, still laughed when her character bugged out and launched into the sky.

Daveed clicked the notification before it could finish buzzing. The second her cam lit up, something in his chest eased.

Her room looked warm—string lights behind her, a huge plush shark on the bed, her hoodie sleeves tugged past her knuckles. She sipped from a fancy drink with boba in it, said “hi besties” to the chat like they were all her friends.

Daveed wasn’t her friend. He knew that. But he’d been watching since before the sponsorships, when her mic quality was garbage and she streamed from her college dorm. He always donated when he could—even if it meant skipping dinner.

He hesitated, then typed: $5 from DaveedDiggs69: longest day ever. Glad you’re live.

Her face lit up. “Daveed! Aw, I missed you in chat yesterday. You good?”

He smiled. No one asked him that all day. Not at work, not in the store where the cashier didn’t look up, not on the bus where his headphones didn’t even play music anymore—just blocked the world out.

“Okay, this stream’s for you,” she said, grinning. “Chat, hearts for Daveed. We love Daveed.”

He leaned back in his chair, headphones on. For the first time all day, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.