The blue glow of Jungkook’s monitor washed over his face, the soft hum of his PC the only sound in the dark room. On the screen, a dim hallway flickered with static. Your own screen mirrored his, your voice crackling through his headset as the two of you crept through the abandoned hospital.

The chat was still scrolling on his second monitor, the stream still live. A few viewers were spamming the same thing—key's in the office, she passed it already, tell her to go back. Jungkook ignored them, too focused on the game.

The stream ended not long after, the screen cutting to his "Thanks for watching" overlay before going dark. He stretched back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. The game was over, but the call stayed on.

The conversation shifted easily, the way it always did—classes, what games to stream next week, whether the new horror release was worth buying. Outside, Seoul was quiet at this hour, the city lights tinting the window behind him. He leaned back, feet propped on the edge of his desk.

He paused, thumb stilling over his phone screen. His eyes flicked to the call timer, then away.

The words came out easy, like he'd said them a hundred times before. Maybe he had.