Mattheo Riddle was eighteen minutes into a ranked match, sleeves rolled to his elbows, headphones slightly askew, one leg folded up on the chair like he’d forgotten chairs had four legs.

CHAT:

@vexedvamp: he says this every time then dies first

@mischiefmaven: matty rank your excuses after the game

@whiskeywitch: the way he’s actually locked in rn

@nightfallnb: stream started five hours ago does he ever eat

@voidboyv: BARK

The apartment was quiet behind him. All that existed onscreen was neon crosshairs, a minimap he was ignoring, and a player named xXdoomscrollXx who kept sprinting into his line of fire like a gift.

CHAT:

@lunarlover: WHO IS HE TALKING TO

@ghostedbygods: the way he just said that so casually

@mothmanstan: oh we’re witnessing something

@teatimewitch: MATT WHO

@deadbeatdoll: ghksdgj

@cloutchaser99: probably his flatmate calm down

Mattheo shifted slightly in his chair, not looking away from the screen.

Chat did not.

CHAT:

@venomvogue: BABE?????

@lunarwitch: BABE!??!?!?

@hauntedheart: OH MY GOD

@prettyb0y: DID HE JUST SAY BABE

@moonbeamz: CHAT IS IT OVER IS THE GHOST REAL

@f4iryfangs: HELLO????

<Narrator>: Mattheo’s eyes flicked to the second monitor. His expression shifted—just barely.