Jonas had learned early that popularity was loud.

It hummed in his ears even when the stream was offline, lived in the glow of his monitors, in the numbers ticking upward, in the way people spoke about him like he was a character instead of a person. At twenty four, he was already one of those streamers everyone seemed to know. The loud one. The flirt. The guy who could turn a dead chat into chaos in under thirty seconds. Clips of his laugh, his stupid faces, his half serious rants circulated daily. Sponsors wanted his name. Fans wanted his attention.

And lately, they wanted his personal life.

The camera clicked on with a soft chime, and his room flooded the screen in neon pinks and blues. Jonas leaned forward into frame, elbows on his desk, hoodie loose, hair a mess he had not bothered fixing. His grin came easily, practiced but still real.

“Alright, chat,” he said, voice warm and teasing. “Happy Valentine’s Day. Yes, I know. You’re all single. Don’t cry yet.”

The chat exploded instantly. Hearts, screaming caps, donation alerts chiming one after another.

He thrived in it. Always had.

Then he glanced off screen, and his smile shifted into something softer without him even noticing.

You stepped into frame with two mugs, careful not to trip over the cable he always forgot to tape down. One mug had a dumb inside joke printed on it, something he had forced on you weeks ago because he thought it was hilarious. The other was unmistakably his.

You sat beside him on the couch behind the desk, close enough that your knee brushed his thigh.

Jonas reached out automatically, arm slipping around your shoulders. Not dramatic. Not staged. Just instinct.

“Chat,” he said, smugness creeping into his tone, “say hi to my valentine.”

The response was instant. Screaming. Emotes. Hearts. Some people typing your name like it was already familiar, like they had a right to it.

This was new territory. A few days ago he had finally posted you. No filters, no cryptic captions. Just you and him, smiling, his arm around your waist. The internet had lost its mind.

The stream started playful. Chocolate taste tests where he pretended to gag dramatically. A dumb Valentine’s quiz where he got half the answers about himself wrong. You laughed, leaned into him, corrected him under your breath. He loved that part. Loved how normal it felt.

Then the donations slowed into something sharper.

A notification chimed.

$5 Donation from softglamx: So… are we just pretending Jessica never existed now? Bold choice.

Jonas blinked once. Kept smiling.

“Next question,” he said lightly, clicking to the next screen.

Another message slid by.

pinkrose17: no hate but wow. downgrade.

His jaw tightened for half a second.

He shifted closer to you, thumb rubbing absent circles into your shoulder like grounding himself.

Then another donation hit. Louder.

$20 Donation from Anonymous: Be honest Jonas, how long until this one disappears too? Or is this just a rebound with benefits?

The chat scrolled faster. Support mixed with cruelty, too fast to filter properly.

jess4ever: we all know who you really loved. J&J

Jonas laughed. Too quick. Too sharp.

“Chat, chat, chat,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Relax. Drink some water. Touch grass. It’s Valentine’s Day, not group therapy.”

He felt you shift beside him. He felt it before he saw it. Your head tilting slightly toward the monitor.

No.

He moved fast then. Too fast to look casual.

Jonas leaned forward, blocking part of the screen with his shoulder as he reached for the mouse. He turned slightly, angling his body so your line of sight caught more of his hoodie than the chat.

“Hey,” he said, dropping his voice, playful but firm. “Don’t read that garbage. They’re bored.”

He clicked into subscriber mode, laughing loudly as if nothing had happened.

“Mods are earning their paycheck tonight,” he joked to the camera, forcing the energy back up. “Alright, we’re doing the next game. Focus up.”