Chapter 7

Hours ticked by.

He ended the stream, the sense of desolation lingering in the dimly lit room. The deafening silence of an empty chat box echoed louder than any words that could have been typed.

In the quiet aftermath, Owen stared at the screen, the realization sinking in. No comments, no interactions. His shoulders slumped, and a heaviness settled over him. The vibrant energy that usually fueled his streams had vanished, leaving only the echo of disappointment.

Nothing.

Not a single viewer dropped by. Another fruitless session amongst a long line of failures.

He sighed and leaned back on his chair. He got less than three seconds of rest when a gentle knock echoed through his room. Startled, he wondered who it was. Sighing, he got up and opened the door.

"Hi."

Long dog ears greeted him. Ophelia stood at the door, holding a plate of cookies. The faint aroma of slightly burnt sweetness wafted through the air.

He forced a smile. "Hi, Ophelia."

"Um, do you mind if I come in?" Ophelia asked. "I was feeling a little…lonely."

Aw. When she said it with that face, he wasn't able to resist. He opened the door fully and gestured at the bed. "I don't mind at all. Come in."

Ophelia entered, and they settled on Owen's bed, the plate of cookies between them. From her first bite, he winced. Owen didn't want to say it but…

"It's too burnt." The blonde hung her head. "Oh no…"

"It's okay," he comforted.

"I'm sorry they're not perfect. I'm not good at this kind of thing."

Owen placed a hand on her shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's the thought that counts. And honestly, these burnt cookies have character. Plus, I appreciate the company that comes with the cookies more than the cookies themselves."

Ophelia smiled back, though guilt lingered. The two continued munching on the cookies until Ophelia posed the fateful question.

"So, Owen, about your streaming…how is it going?"

"To be honest, it could be better. Much better," he admitted. He nibbled on another cookie.

"If it's not fun for you…" Ophelia bit her bottom lip. "Nevermind. I'm sorry."

Her unfinished words hung in the air for a while. She knew he couldn't quit. She understood.

"It's okay. I know you're only worried." He flashed her a smile. "Want to watch a movie?"

Immediately, her blue eyes became like sparkling diamonds and her head bounced up and down. "Yes! Oooh, ooh, there was this new princess movie, let's watch that!"

"Sure." Owen stood up from his bed, taking the plate with him. Ophelia was beside him all the way.

"Remember? It's the one with the pretty pink hair."

"I remember."

She latched onto his arm and went on. "There's like seven movies for it. Let's watch them all!"

"Today?"

"Today!"

He put the plate into the kitchen sink and laughed. "Sure, why not?"

"Yay!"

"But in exchange, we order take-out of my choice."

"Hm…" One arm still looped around his, she thought about it, finger curling under her chin. Eventually, she gave a firm nod. "Deal!"

Spending the hours cuddling and watching movies with his girlfriend was the best thing he could ask for. He didn't care if he had to work the next day and that sleeping early was the best way to repay the sleep debt. He wanted to be with her and that was what he'd do.

…

…

…

The moon cast a gentle glow through the curtains as Owen stirred in the middle of the night. A yellow lion-patterned blanket lay on top of them, with Ophelia's head on his chest and an arm underneath the blanket and also draped over. Quietly, he shifted the arm back to her side and then slipped out of the blanket's thick hold. It was a heavy beast, made of extremely soft material and half an inch thick.

Out of instinct, he went to the kitchen. His eyes fell onto the recycling bags. In the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, the two hefty bags of blue were taunting him.

'Might as well do it now. For my future self,' Owen told himself as a way to convince his lazy body.

The night air embraced him as he stepped outside. Down the stairs and out the foyer, it was a journey spanning two minutes. Two minutes too long in his opinion. Owen reached the recycling bins and he deposited the bags with a soft thud.

Then he looked up at the moon. Though not full, it was close and it reminded Owen of just how small he was. There were billions of people on the Earth and he was but a speck. A speck with lovers and a dream. A speck that seemed to be rejected by the online world.

He wondered how many shared the same dreams? How many faced similar struggles? What made someone special? What made someone capable of attaining their dreams? Before, his life was...turbulent. Before, he didn't have aspirations but ideals and commitment. He went about life going from point A to point B.

All that changed when his parents died. After that, he grew up. He got a job. He learned what life and happiness really was. He was able to smile without lying to himself.

He learned so much yet so little. In his heart, he wished they were still here.

The chill of the night reminded not to linger, so he darted back inside the condo. His past was his past. The future, the goals he aspired towards, that was what mattered now.

His current goal? To become a streamer. To become an internet celebrity. To use his computer to do something great.

Upon returning, Owen found Ophelia still curled up on the couch, peacefully lost in dreams. He couldn't resist the urge to join her, letting her head rest on him, wrapping his arm around her and settling in.