behind the streams | dnf

one | bitter

SAPNAP

Evening dim slants from the slip in the curtains with an unfortunate flare on the corner of one monitor. The artificial glow of each screen slopes over my silhouette, slowly driving me to flinch as the contrast between the glare and the room becomes increasingly extreme. It spills on the dark desktop as the edges of the surface dig into my forearms.

With one hand I tilt my microphone up, farther away from my keyboard and mouse as the clicking increases in both volume and fervor. There's attacks from all sides, I catch on fire several times, but eventually I manage to weave through the mobs in this particularly troublesome plain of the Nether.

I take a few moments, blocking myself off, catch a break to eat some food and regain, looking over at the stream to see that my entire chat's practically screaming at me to do just that. After some light-hearted reassurances, poking fun at their panic, I'm on my way again. Breaking through several layers of rust-colored blocks, the fortress comes into view across a sea of lava, and the stream erupts into exclamations of victory and floods of emotes.

Mid-bridge, a series of notes emits from another monitor. I pause my character and look over, even though no one can see my head turn anyways. My face cam's off, as it has been for a while now.

"Hello?"

My eyes just make out the profile picture in the voice channel as he speaks. I smile warmly as my hand returns to the mouse. "Hey, Georgie. I'm live."

He murmurs acknowledgement, clearing his throat. "What are you doing?"

"Speedrunning."

"Oh. How's it going?"

"Actually," I muse. "I just found the fortress. Right as you joined the call."

"Wow," he drawls, enthusiasm as dry as a desert. "You're welcome. I must've brought you that luck."

"For sure." I match his tone, his typical snideness, but it breaks when he laughs and I let myself as well. The next half an hour or so descends into tranquil, light conversations with the typical, occasional bickers, enough to keep the viewers interested. He comments on my gameplay, I fire back, but it's all in good fun as the rest of the Nether goes relatively smoothly. Before I know it, I'm on my way and fueled by the respectable time displayed in the top left corner.

We're still silent for most of the stream, the only audible noises being the mouse clicks and the keyboard clacks during the off periods. I don't notice it at first, but as the silences stretch longer and the conversations drop sparser, even the chat picks it up.

"You're quiet today," I observe evenly. Another mob hacks off half a heart.

"Am I?" He asks. Even his tone is dismissive.

"Yeah," I answer, briefly glancing over at the Twitch window. "The chat's asking me to turn you up but you aren't even talking, so."

He laughs at this but it's shallow and short-lived. "I mean, I'm just here on your stream. You're the one speedrunning."

"I know." I throw another pearl. "But you could be, like, interesting."

"Are you not interesting enough?" The sarcasm is heavy and I roll my eyes but not without a smile.

"Shut the hell up. You joined the voice channel on your own accords."

"I'm... multitasking."

Scrunching up my face, I lean slightly back in my chair. "What does that mean?"

"I'm texting someone."

My hand makes its way back to the mouse and moves my character out of immobility. The intrigue is weak but how does he not expect me to question it? "Who?"

"Dream."

I blink several times, at a loss for words. "Um, okay. Well, that's getting clipped."

Another only half-genuine laugh. "I know."

One hand rises to scratch my cheek. "Why did you have to make it sound so... secretive?"

"I mean, you asked."

"I'm sure I'm speaking for everyone, when I wonder what you guys are talking about."

"Nothing important."

Shaking my head slightly, ignoring the pang in my chest, I drag my attention back to the game. "Okay." The word's singed with stifled bitterness, and immediately I feel guilt for even feeling like that. 

I shove it away furiously. But it lingers. 

After another few minutes of undeniably tenser silence and unsettled curiosity, I finally let myself look at the chat. Biting back a sigh, I smooth myself out, for the sake of the viewers, and speak with practiced evenness.

"They want you to ask him to join the stream."

"Oh."

Pressing my lips together, I spend a few seconds scrolling through the chat room. The ones who urge the vast majority to settle down, gratitude flickers for them but they're few and far between and practically lost in the overwhelming pleas.

"They're just.... asking for him. Yeah."

I hear a short, stiff, inhale, just barely concealing the identical feelings we all have when something like this happens. "Dream's busy, guys," he brisks with remarkable patience.

I swallow. "You heard him, chat." Watching the messages trickle to a reluctant stop, my hands hesitantly jump over to the keyboard.

Is he actually?

Dots appear at the bottom of our direct message, before a singular word appears. yeah

My fingers hover over the keys, slightly stung.

i didn't know that

I bite my lip, staring hopefully at the window as each idle second drops my spirits and it's replaced with faint annoyance.

Is he not going to say anything?

He's not.

A questionable period of silence follows, without any further clarification, by texts or by words. Reluctantly I drag my attention back to the stream, eyeing the game distastefully with trampled motivation. A brief glance at the top left corner confirms that I've wasted a few minutes as the run becomes less and less impressive, but I can't really find it in myself to care. 

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