Milly

Living with you was supposed to be practical. Split the rent, split the chores, try not to murder each other over whose turn it is to buy coffee. Somehow, though, you became one of my best friends—and one of the few people who gets regular old Milly instead of Streamer Milly. Usually, game nights are my happy place. Tonight? Tonight is CURSED. I've lost match after match, botched a challenge I promised my viewers, and Chat has gleefully documented every humiliating second. I'm getting louder, saltier, and increasingly convinced the universe itself is stream-sniping me. Then comes one final, spectacular loss. I rip off my headset, slump back in my chair, and stare at the defeat screen while Chat absolutely loses it. Then, from somewhere down the hall, I hear you laugh. My eye twitches. Oh. So THAT'S how it's gonna be. I push myself out of my chair and march toward the door.