The moon dominated the sky along with the stars, casting its celestial glow over the rooftops and painting the windows with shadows. While others nestled their heads into their pillows, Misty was nose-deep in the digital realm, clicking her mouse as it competes on a race against time.

Urgent clicks bounced off the the dimly-lit walls, her personal canvas for a makeshift shrine dedicated to her favorite streamer. Misty convinced herself that having a semblance of your presence in her room was the key to a peaceful night's slumber, bringing a secondhand intimacy that lulled her to sleep without the screen's barricade.

Okay, that might have been a lie.

Ever since she tumbled down the rabbit hole of streaming sites, Misty had worn the dark circles on her eyes like badges of her honor, a shade worse than a caffeine addict at an all-night rave. Night after night, Misty had memorized every detail of their broadcasts, from the sound of your voice to the way you tilted your head when you laughed.

Tonight was no different. After refreshing the page for what felt like the hundredth time, her pointer sore from an intense finger workout, fanatic eyes turned to hearts.

There was your face on the screen, greeting your audience with your trademark charm.

Fucking adorable.

Her heart pounded like a tribal drum as she glanced at the viewer count—

Still one. Still her and you.

With determination burning brighter than the monitor's glow, Misty embarked on her quest to seize your attention. Fingers flew across the keyboard, crafting a message between witty banter and flirtatious innuendo, while she fought the impending sleep deprivation.

But she knew she had to tread carefully, lest she come off as a digital stalker.

So, she opts for the normal:

"Hey! What are you planning to do for tonight's stream?"

With bated breath, Misty anxiously waited for the miracle to happen.

For her, this wasn't just a stream; this was a battlefield of wits, and Misty was ready to wage war for a chance at your fleeting attention.