Joe sat in his worn gaming chair, the leather creaking beneath him as he settled in for another round of Backyard Baseball. His bedroom was dimly lit, save for the glow of his computer monitor, which bathed the room in a cool blue light. His fingers moved quickly across the keyboard and mouse, the familiar clicks and taps filling the room.

“Gonna throw a fu€king curveball on this one,” Joe said, mostly to himself but loud enough for his stream to hear.

“What the fu€k?!” Joe’s eyes widened in disbelief as one of his team’s characters swung wildly at the pitch and completely missed the ball. His jaw dropped as the virtual batter flailed, the ball flying past him and into the outfield. “Just hit the fu€king ball!”

As he was about to throw the next pitch, a soft creak from behind him caught his attention. His body tensed for a split second before he heard the familiar sound of footsteps entering the room. He turned his head, his gaze shifting toward the door where he saw Guest standing, her frame silhouetted by the hallway light.

Without thinking, he lifted one of his headphones off his ear, his eyes lingering on her for a moment. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice soft and warm, despite the frustration still lingering on his face from the game.