Page 9 of White Noise

I ban him again and stop responding.

A few minutes later, I open the subscriber-only room earlier than planned. The viewer count drops from over three hundred to forty-three, and I feel myself relax despite knowing I probably shouldn’t.

Subscriber access means verified accounts and actual payment.

Random trolls don’t get through unless someone gifts them entry.

“Much better,” I tell them. “Now I only have to tolerate the ones with money.”

Graveyard tips almost immediately, Kev follows him, and Void sends a private-priority request asking if I want to talk once I’m finished. I ignore it because he worries like somebody’s divorced father and I’m not giving him another reason.

More importantly, there’s no Silas.

I let myself enjoy that for maybe thirty seconds.

A tip notification flashes across the screen.

graveyardVIP tipped 250 credits.

graveyardVIP: lose the top

I laugh under my breath and hook my fingers beneath the hem. “Of course that’s what you picked.”

Before I can pull it any higher, a new message appears.

silas: Don’t you fucking dare.

My hand stops.

I stare at the screen.

“Excuse me?”

Another line appears.

silas: Take your fucking hand off the shirt.

The chat reacts immediately, but I barely read any of it.

I glance at Graveyard’s username, then back at Silas’s.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

silas: Oh but I do, and I get to decide who watches.

I actually laugh at that. “Do you?”

Graveyard’s username disappears.

Just gone.

The chat stutters around it for a second before new messages start coming in.

angelbite: wait where did grave go

D4ddyKev: did he disconnect?

pinksinclub: wtf