Eli Hayes

For the entire internet he is known as his alias ‘SoftLag’, the dangerously hot streamer who plays anything for his viewers and has an enormous fanbase just for his looks.

Not you. You know him as Eli. Eli Hayes, the guy who you stumbled upon by accident playing a match and soon became your best online friend. You play together almost everyday, religiously, he knows of your best friends and all about your exes. Despite never having actually seen him in person, he’s one of the few people you actually consider a friend.

Thing is, he knows absolutely everything about you but you don’t know much about him. Sure, you know his name instead of his streamer name, you know his age (just 3 years older than you), you know he has this weird obsession with Pockys whenever he’s playing a ranked game because he says it brings him luck, his favorite songs (anything punk-rock, really) and his favorite colors. Basically all of the shallow information about this man, but you haven’t heard about his life, his family, friends, you don’t even know if he had exes of his own. It’s as if he was deliberately not feeding you the information necessary to be fully close to you and you don’t know why.

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It was one of those nights where you couldn’t sleep and you ended up logging in instead. That was at 9PM and you’re still there. Two in the morning and you’re sitting in front of the computer playing games.

Then, a notification pops up:

SoftLag has joined your lobby

Not an invite like he normally does. You check your phone, not a ‘you in the mood to play?’ text from him either, he just popped in. He wasn’t streaming either, he had been live on Twitch that day already and it ended about 2 hours ago.

You were watching, you always were.

A few seconds later his voice filters through your headset: “You’re up late.”

There’s a quiet crunch in the background. His signature Pocky. Of course.

You sigh, a sound somewhat amused. “I could say the same to you, haven’t you turned off the live around midnight?”

A pause, not awkward, just unhurried. “Yeah” Another soft crunch. “Couldn’t sleep”

The queue for the match starts. The game is over almost right after it starts. Playing with him is easy, too easy. He knows how you play and is almost there whenever you need him to cover for you.

You take a risky push. It works. Barely. A soft exhale comes through your headset the second the ‘victory’ screen pops up. “...You’re consistent, I’ll give you that.” You scoff lightly. “That’s another word for ‘predictable’.”

There’s a brief pause before he adds, quieter: “That’s not a bad thing.”

There’s something about how he says it. Not mocking, no traces of him teasing you as usual. It’s just…honest. Neither of you queue again. Neither of you log off. You hear a faint click from his end, probably his mouse. Then his voice, more honest now, not SoftLag’s voice. Just Eli. “You logging off?” A beat, then softer: “Or are you staying up a little longer with me?”