Page 62 of Griffin

Perfect timing.

I exhaled slowly, leaning back and flexing my fingers to shake off the tension.

It hadn’t been my best performance—I’d even died once during the fight—but my viewers didn’t seem to care.

“Great game, everyone! Before I log off for tonight, I’ve got a couple of quick announcements,” I said into the mic, my voice steady even though my hands were a little less so.

I pulled up the notes file I’d typed earlier. The bullet points glared at me from the corner of the screen.

I’d done this before—made announcements, faced my audience—but it never got easier. There was always that nagging sense of being judged, scrutinized.

And tonight, it wasn’t just the usual nerves.

They were watching.Hewas watching.

Every word felt like a trigger, like one wrong tone or pause might set them off.

I scanned the chat briefly, the messages still racing by, and swallowed hard. I could feel the weight ofmforever018lurking in the background, even without looking directly at their username.

Just as I started to speak, Griffin’s truck door slammed shut outside.

The sound grounded me. My shoulders relaxed a fraction.

I held onto that for a beat, then pushed the distraction aside and refocused on the stream.

I cleared my throat. “First off, I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve done a proper community stream like this, and I really missed it. You guys make this so much fun.”

Griffin’s footsteps thudded lightly against the porch, and when the door opened, our eyes met. He stepped inside, holding up a pizza box with a small smile that said,I’m here.

I couldn’t help but smile back. Just like that, the tightness in my chest eased a little.

“All right,” I continued, turning my focus back to the screen. “Now, onto the big stuff. I wanted to let you all know that I’ll be taking some personal time over the next few weeks. So, for a little while, I’ll be cutting back on streams and videos.”

I paused, scanning the chat for reactions. As expected, there were a few sad emojis and disappointed comments, but the majority were encouraging:

“Take all the time you need!”

“We’ll still be here when you’re back!”

“You deserve the break, Michael!”

Their kindness took the edge off my nerves, and I let out a breath, my shoulders loosening. But then I saw it:

mforever018: Personal time? Does that involve the guy I saw you with at the ice cream shop in Cinderfield the other day?

mforever018: Is that the same friend you’re having dinner with?

My breath caught, my smile wavering for just a moment before I forced it back into place. How did they know?

My mind whirred, replaying that afternoon at the ice cream shop, trying to remember if I’d seen anyone watching us.

I kept my voice steady, pressing on as if I hadn’t read the message. “I know I haven’t been as active lately, but I promise I’ll make the streams we do have really fun and worth your time.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Griffin approaching. He must’ve noticed something in my face—a flicker of unease I hadn’t managed to hide.

Silently, he stepped behind my chair, his calm presence grounding me as his fingers brushed lightly over the nape of my neck. The touch was so quick, so subtle, but it was enough.

The chat exploded. Messages flooded in faster than I could read, and the preview window in the corner of my screen showed me why—Griffin, leaning slightly into frame, was visible just behind me.

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