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I grab my water bottle, taking long gulps. My mind drifts to Jenna’s voice of reason. She’d freak if she knew, probably drag me straight to the police station. But this felt... different. Special. Like whoever did this understood exactly what I needed.

A tiny voice in the back of my mind whispers warnings.This is how horror movies start. This is literally what every cybersecurity PSA warns about.I push the thoughts away, but they linger like a shadow at the edge of my consciousness.

I hear the ding of a chat notification pop up on my computer. I get off the bed and head over, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.Rogue.

Rogue: Hey, good game earlier.

Should I tell him?

We’ve been gaming partners for ages, sharing strategies, jokes, and personal stuff. But this feels too intimate.

Mischief: Thanks! Yeah, we crushed it.

I type back, trying to act normal despite my racing thoughts.

Rogue: You seem distracted. Everything okay?

I bite my lip.

Mischief: Just tired. Been a weird night.

Rogue: Weird how?

The cursor blinks at me accusingly. How do I even begin to explain? “Oh, someone hacked my devices and gave me the best orgasm of my life while watching me through my webcam?” Yeah, that would go over well.

Mischief: Just... stuff. Nothing major.

I deflect, fidgeting in my chair.

Mischief: Hey, have you decided whether you’ll come to GamerCon?

Rogue: Sorry, Mischief. Got stuck with work. Can’t make it this time.

My stomach drops. The lingering warmth from earlier vanishes, replaced by a cold weight in my chest.

My fingers tremble as I type.

Mischief: Oh. But you said you’d try to come.

Rogue: I know. Things got complicated at the office. Rain check?

He waited the night before the Con to tell me, after weeks of maybes and we’ll sees.

Mischief: You could have told me sooner.

I hit send before I can rethink it.

Rogue: Don’t be like that. We’ll meet eventually.

Eventually, theword feels like a dagger. I sink onto my bed, hugging my knees to my chest.

Mischief: Right. Eventually.

Rogue: Come on. Nothing changes. We’re still gaming buddies.

Gaming buddies.

Is that all this is? All these late-night conversations, inside jokes, shared victories—just pixels on a screen?