Chapter One
RAYA
“Alright, guys, thanks so much for hanging out with me today.” I smile, waving at the webcam. “See you all tomorrow when we play some new indie games.”
My eyes scan my livestream’s chat, a smile growing on my face at the chorus of byes that flood it. With one last grin, I end the stream, sitting back in my desk chair and letting out a sigh.
I love my job; I’m thankful I get to play games for a living, but today’s stream wasn’t enough to keep me distracted. All I could think about was the errands I need to run, and how much I don’t want to run them.
The room darkens slightly as the monitor fades to black, leaving me sitting in the warm, dim pink that emits from my neon sign behind me. It was a gift from a viewer, and that started a whole new segment on my livestreams—reactions with Raya.
My viewers love it. I open all the mail sent to my PO box and show them what I’ve received. It’s usually pretty pleasant, but occasionally I get hate mail or creepy letters, as does any content creator.
I appreciate that my subscribers want to send me gifts and show me love, but it can be quite draining reacting on camera to everything I receive. Going to my PO box is on the list of errands for today.
Finding the energy to be social, even online, I find very hard—which can be a problem for the career I’ve chosen. I’m almost always able to put on a brave face and power through, even on my hardest days. Some of my viewers notice, but I just pretend I don’t see their messages of concern.
Sluggishly, I push myself out of my chair. I walk through my house toward my front door, collecting my keys and wallet from the random locations I left them last.
Once I have everything I’ll need, I head out, locking up behind me. It’s a nice day out, not too hot, but not by any means cold—the perfect weather.
My neighborhood is pretty quiet as I walk through it. I pass by my best friend Orie’s house, dormant as always. She’s at her shop right now, which reminds me I should stop in.
Somehow, interacting with Oriedoesn’tfeel draining or like a chore. She made her way through my walls, as she likes to say. I can’t remember quite how long ago I put them up, though.
I make a turn, passing by Gabe’s house on my way. He’s the vulpine who owns the local hardware store, though some people just call him a fox-man.
He’s actually quite an easygoing guy, even though with his height, tattoos, and muscles, he looks a bit intimidating. Whenever I’ve interacted with him, he’s always cracking jokes.
As I continue to Orie’s store, Tranquil, I enjoy the fresh air and setting sun. Moving to Harmony Glen was the best decision I ever made. Not only is it beautiful, it’s inclusive and quiet—all things I want out of the place I call home.
No one is judged here. No one asks questions—most of the time.
Ever since monsters came out of hiding and joined us openly, Harmony Glen has been a haven. It hasn’t just welcomed monsters with open arms, but humans of all varieties too.
I don’t necessarily consider myself a weirdo, but not everyone quite understands the appeal of the lifestyle I’ve chosen. Or, in my friend Orie’s opinion, mylackof lifestyle.
There’s nothing wrong with liking the comfort of my home, and the company of people virtually. It’s what works for me.
Down the street and across the road, I can see Orie’s store, lights gleaming inside. As I get closer, I can see her working away, restocking shelves, her navy space buns bobbing around.
Once I reach the store, a soft bell chimes above me, alerting her of my entrance. She stops what she’s doing, smiling over her shoulder at whoever has entered.
When she sees it’s me, she beams. “Raya, you’ve decided to bless me with your presence?”
“Temporarily, yes.” I nod, walking over to her.
“Here to pick anything up, or just to say hi?” she asks, following me along as I scan her inventory.
I walk over to the shelf with all the essential oils, picking up two of the bottles. “I need some more lavender, and just want some more jasmine.”
“Still having trouble sleeping at night?” Her voice softens, and I don’t turn to look at her—I know what expression she’s wearing right now.
“Sometimes—either no sleep at all, or sleeping too much,” I admit, quickly moving on. “The lavender helps, though.”
She walks behind the counter, narrowed eyes darting up to me as she rings up my items. “And the jasmine?”
“I just like the smell of it.” I shrug. It’s not a complete lie.
