Chapter 3

He took one bite of the burger and talked for a few minutes with Ophelia before tip-toeing back to his room. His sleepiness was all but gone and going back, he overheard something from Isabella's room.

The hall was compact so it was hard to ignore. He wondered what she was doing, though didn't pay too much attention as he turned his door knob.

That was when he heard—a distant yet iconic screech. A sound affect known to many as a jump scare in a certain game.

Isabella was playing SNaS—Six Nights at Sally's. 'But this late? Sheesh.'

Then again, Ophelia was also awake, so maybe it wasn't that strange. Isabella probably loved playing more than Ophelia loved eating. Probably. Someday, he'd have to have them compete to truly decide a winner.

He entered his room and closed the door behind him, smiling. Ophelia and Isabella were much more confident in their hobbies than he was. Owen tried not to think about it but when it came to streaming his passion was running on fumes. Years ago, he was bright and happy and eager to prove himself. These days, it was like a chore. A habit. 

The thought always crossed that if he gave up now that his previous years of effort would mean nothing, which was why he kept going. He turned on the monitor and plastered on that smile because otherwise it felt like had wasted his life away.

He didn't realize he was sitting on his streaming chair till he saw his own face reflected on the monitor. An expression devoid of joy. An expression full of dejection, baggy-eyes, and weakness. 

'Stop complaining. Come on.' Bad thoughts lead to a bad future. That was in Star Wars, right? He chuckled. 'If only I had Anakin's hair, then maybe my viewership would go higher.'

He stared up at the darkness of his ceiling. Sighing, he ran a hand through his black hair, thinking. "I don't think I'm ugly and I'm pretty fit too since I do construction work."

The labour was pretty hefty, especially since he was young and expected to pick up the slack of the older folks, rounding him out to be something of an athlete. By no means did he have a six-pack and bulging muscles, but he did consider himself fit and lean. He ran, he jumped and parkoured, and he lifted on the daily. Overall, he was a healthy guy. 

'With a terrible sleep schedule,' he muttered in his head bitterly. Because of his after-work streaming sessions, he often wouldn't get the sleep he wanted and that sometimes led to terrible days at work where he would push himself more than usual.

"Remember kids, always get your nine hours of sleep," Owen said to no one in particular. A second sigh followed. "I should go to sleep already."

He said that but he didn't. He couldn't. All he could think about was his spiralling future, about the lack of results. Was he really going to work day-in, day-out and not get an ounce of enjoyment from his hobbies? Was streaming always going to be this dull?

'I wouldn't even mind settling for being a WuTuber.' Owen put an arm on his forehead, staring up at the ceiling as if it had anything remotely interesting. It didn't. His mind seemed to be in focus when he looked at it though. 'But all I've done is upload edited VODs and those don't get any views.'

In his entire WuTube career, only one video had surpassed ten thousand videos and it was a twelve year Dragon Ball Z AMV he made on his old iPod. It was a video that, at the time, made him feel like he was the king of the world. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say it was what kick started his dreams of streaming and internet fame. 

If nine year old Owen could make a video that got over ten thousand views, then imagine him as an adult! Well, apparently, the answer wasn't what he expected.

He reached for his phone and turned it on. The excess brightness caused him to wince and he quickly dimmed it. 'What's big on WuTube anyway?'

For the next twenty minutes, he spent his time scrolling through WuTube. He checked the trending section and then searched up the largest channels.

'Man, I knew gaming commentary channels were dead but I didn't think it was this bad. Unless you're a WuTuber with a history, you're gonna fail.'

He double-checked the numbers, from subscribers to viewership. There was no question about it. 'It's pay to win. The biggest channels do ridiculous things that require huge amounts of money. It's not like old WuTube where some girl named Charlie can bite her finger and get viral. If you want to have success on that scale, you gotta build rockets and shit.'

Owen put his phone down, groaning. "Is everything in this world pay to win? I'm just a construction guy…"

He sighed, then heard something through the walls. A screech from a certain game played by a certain woman in his condo. Owen blinked and turned to the wall. He listened and heard another screech.

"Isabella says she's really good at the game. What gives?" Owen continued listening but heard nothing. The audio went from loud to quiet. Did she hit the menu or what?

"Or maybe…she found a secret level." 

SNaF was known for its jump scares and horrifying monsters, but more than that, what kept people like Isabella engaged was the story. The mysteries, the hidden lore, and the community was expansive and borderline legendary. Complex yet strangely intriguing, even to an outsider like Owen. 

He remembered what he saw on the trending tab of WuTube. Rich guy doing something super cool, another rich guy copying the other rich guy, three consecutive music videos, a "social experiment" video, an anime trailer, and at the bottom was a SNaF theory video. The video had been out for eight hours and garnered over one and a half million views.

'Theory videos, huh…'

That was the last thing Owen thought before nodding off.