chance meeting,
love lasting.
on a seemingly normal night, a famous creator raids a smaller streamer and sets off a chain of events that lead him to his dream girl.
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"You know, I'm still getting questions about your grad tweet."
I laughed, setting a stack of folded shirts in the dresser drawer. "Really?"
"Really really. I swear, I have the nosiest fanbase."
"That's because you're faceless," I said, gathering the stack of bottoms in my arms. "They want to know everything to fill in that gap."
"Well, it can be exhausting," he sighed. "I can't go anywhere with Nick or our friends because someone would recognize us."
"You poor baby," I mocked.
"I'm serious, Nala."
My smile turned sympathetic, even though he couldn't see it. "Then face reveal, Clay. If you're this miserable, maybe that bit of privacy isn't worth it."
"I can't, not yet. I'm not ready to give up the mask."
"I hate hearing that you're upset, though."
"I'll be fine. As soon as George is here, it'll be worth it." He left little room for argument, not that I was prepared to. I knew how important George moving in was to him.
I was quiet for a moment before declaring, "I'm gonna send you pictures and videos now."
"Huh?"
"So you can see the outside world." I padded over to my window, snapping a picture of Nemo running around the backyard. "Such a shame that you forgot what grass is."
"You're annoying," he said, but his tone said he was anything but irritated.
"I'm amazing," I retorted, flicking my tangled hair over my shoulder.
"Yes, you are."
I buried my face in his hoodie, letting his words wash over me. He had no idea how he affected me, and I was getting close to telling him.
"So," he said, clearing his throat, "the weirdos on the server want to meet you."
"Why?" I sat on the edge of my bed, surrounded by the rest of my unfolded laundry.
"They saw the tweet and wanted to know what it meant."
I flushed, realizing just how many people saw Clay's gesture. "And you told them?"
"Some of them, like George. He likes you enough, so he was happy to join us."
"He seemed a little standoffish in the call."
George hardly spoke to me in the group call, seeming more disinterested than anything. Compared to Tommy's energetic, and slightly invasive, attitude, George seemed like he hated me.
"He takes a minute to warm up to new people." Clay's voice broke through my thoughts, a welcomed life raft in the sea called overthinking. "He's a little awkward, if you couldn't tell."
