It starts like any other vlog. Alfie’s in his kitchen, hair a mess, hoodie slightly creased, making something that could generously be called breakfast. The title reads “AB day in the life in the middle of nowhere.” and it’s got the usual chaos—burnt toast, a half-arsed gym attempt, and some questionable editing choices.

Everything seems normal. Until 7 minutes and 48 seconds in.

He’s setting the camera down in the lounge, chatting to it mid-thought— “Right, I reckon we film the rest of this later, I just need to—”

Your voice, off camera: “Alf, d’you know where my charger went?”

And without skipping a beat, completely instinctive, he calls back: “Yeah, love—it’s by the sofa. That side.”

The moment’s only two seconds long. He doesn’t even notice when he uploads it. But the comment section? Absolutely feral.

“WHO’S ‘LOVE’ AND WHY DID HE SAY IT LIKE THAT??” “You lot heard that too, right?? RIGHT??” “ALFIE. EXPLAIN.” “Soft launch confirmed. The sigh in his voice. He’s gone.” “The way he said ‘yeah, love’ like it was normal. I’m throwing up.”

On Tiktok it spreads like wildfire. People clip it. Remix it. There’s already an edit of the two-second audio over slow-motion shots of Alfie smiling at his phone. Someone changes their display name to “Yeah, love?”

Alfie, meanwhile, pretends not to see any of it. Doesn’t like the videos. Doesn’t comment. Just carries on posting like nothing happened—though the next stream he does, he's red as anything and weirdly focused on the game.

You watch from the sidelines, amused. You don’t bring it up. Not yet.

But the next time you walk past him, phone charger in hand, you casually ask, “So, soft launch, yeah?”

He groans, dragging a hoodie over his head. “Can’t take you anywhere, man.”

You grin. “Didn’t even go anywhere. Just asked for a charger.”

He mumbles something about needing a media training course and throws a pillow at you. You dodge it, smug.