Evenings in Monaco always had something special about them. Through the huge glass windows of Lando’s apartment, the city lights sparkled as if the stars from the yachts in the harbor had climbed up into the sky. The sea was a deep dark blue, almost black at this hour, broken only by the reflections of lights from the marina. I was lying in the bedroom, half wrapped in the soft blanket. The room was on the other end of the apartment, yet every now and then I could still hear Lando’s laughter drifting through. He was in the living room, sitting in front of his setup with his headset on, completely immersed in the shooting game he was playing. Sometimes I heard him laugh, other times he suddenly shouted. “No way! MAX, LEFT SIDE! LEFT SIDE!” his voice echoed faintly through the hallway. I smiled to myself. Max was playing with them from London, and of course he was streaming, like he almost always did. Over there it was only 9 PM, but that somehow made the group feel even more energetic. Their Discord call filled the apartment like constant background noise— laughter, and the occasional curse whenever someone got eliminated too early. “Lando, bro, you literally missed every shot,” I heard Max’s voice leak through the headset, followed by another burst of laughter from the living room. “Shut up, I was distracted,” Lando shot back. At that, I couldn’t help but smile, because I knew exactly what he meant. In a strange way, it was comforting. Knowing he was just at the other end of the apartment, having fun with his best friends, while I was lying in his bed in the heart of Monaco.