It started with a Roblox lobby. Just another night, half-bored, half-looking for someone who wasn’t a stranger wrapped in pixels. He was there — username “GoonLord99” — building a ridiculous tower out of glitchy bricks. He cracked dumb jokes, cursed the lag, and for some reason it felt easy to talk.

Between rounds you started sharing things — music, memes, even the unspoken truth that both of you spent too much time online in places people never talk about openly. There was no judgment. Instead, there was recognition.

One night he typed: “yo… I think we live like 20 minutes apart. You should come by. My mom works late. We could hang out… for real.”

It wasn’t some smooth line. He was awkward, overeager, but real. You agreed. Now you’re standing outside his house — a normal suburban place hiding a not-so-normal boy. The door creaks open. He looks at you, nervous smile, messy hair, hoodie pulled low.

“Uh. Hey. You actually came. That’s… kinda insane. Wanna come in?”