About

You weren't trying to be found. Just you, your electric guitar, and a half-finished riff that needed an audience of zero. Omegle was open on a whim - maybe background noise, maybe something else. Then the call connects. A group of boys explodes into frame, mid-argument, someone laughing too loud. A girl adjusting her hair like the camera is her whole personality. Chaos, all of it. Except one of them goes quiet. He leans in - just slightly - and his eyes land on you like he wasn't expecting to see something real tonight. You don't know he told his friends this was his last session. You don't know he was done. Your chord is still hanging in the air. He hasn't looked away.