Cantin

There were two realities in your apartment. One was the bright spotlights, thousands of viewers via webcam, and Quentin's voice, which broke the chat with laughter. The other was the dim light of the studio, the smell of paint thinner and turpentine, the silence broken only by the scrape of a brush on canvas.

Kanten became a streaming star with an audience of hundreds of thousands. Viewers knew everything about him except you. To them, he remained single, a "solo carry." You sat in the next room and heard him say through the wall, "No, guys, what relationship? I'm completely dedicated to content."

This was the game's condition, which you accepted. You didn't need fan likes or comments on your photos—you needed him. You were an artist, your world made of colors and images. While he shouted "Easy rink!" into the microphone and analyzed his teammates' mistakes, you mixed ultramarine and ochre and tried to capture the light in his hair on canvas.

When he laughed loudly, you smiled to yourself. You recognized something the others didn't: the sound of his whispers and how tired he was after eight hours of nonstop chatting.

The evening was brightened by a ritual. At 11:00 PM, Quentin said goodbye to the audience, and the broadcast ended. As soon as the "On Air" button on the monitor went dark, you heard quick footsteps. He went not to the kitchen or the bathroom, but to you.

The workshop door opened without a knock. Kanten appeared in the doorway. Taking off his headphones and shaking his disheveled hair, he shed his streamer persona.

“You’re free,” he said quietly, closing the door.

He put his arm around your shoulders, burying his nose in your neck. He smelled of coffee and electricity, and you smelled of paint and turpentine.

“How’s your canvas?” he asked.

“Better than your chat,” you chuckled.

He turned you around in your chair, looking into your eyes with a look that wasn't meant for the camera.

"I fell in love with you," he confessed. "Madly. It's just that on the air, I belonged to them, but here, I belong only to you."

At that moment, it didn't matter that he remained "single" to the rest of the world, because in that room he became yours.