Aarav Verma learned something important that night.
Sleep didn't come easily anymore.
He lay on his thin mattress, phone clutched loosely in his hand, staring at the cracked screen as if it might suddenly light up on its own. Every few seconds, his thumb refreshed the streaming app—even though he knew nothing new would appear.
No new messages.
No new notifications.
And yet, his heart refused to calm down.
Don't quit.
Those words echoed in his mind like a stubborn chant.
He turned onto his side, facing the wall, but the darkness didn't help. Instead, his thoughts wandered—back to the chat, back to the usernames, back to the quiet excitement of realizing that strangers had chosen to return.
Not once.
But twice.
For someone who had spent most of his life being overlooked, that realization felt unreal.
Eventually, exhaustion won. His eyes closed.
And for the first time in years, Aarav dreamed—not of money, not of escape—but of a screen filled with names, messages flying past faster than he could read.
Morning arrived with noise.
The pressure cooker whistled in the kitchen. The neighbor's radio blasted an old song through thin walls. Someone outside argued loudly over change at the milk stall.
Aarav groaned and sat up, rubbing his face.
His phone buzzed.
He froze.
Slowly—very slowly—he unlocked the screen.
A notification blinked at the top.
Streaming App: New Message
His heart slammed against his ribs.
He tapped it.
[ShadowPing]: u streaming today?
Aarav stared at the message for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
A real smile. The kind that came naturally, without effort.
He typed back.
[Streamer]: yeah. same time
Three dots appeared.
Then—
[ShadowPing]: cool. i'll be there
Aarav placed the phone down gently, as if it were fragile glass.
Someone had planned their time around him.
The thought sent a strange warmth through his chest.
At breakfast, Ananya noticed immediately.
"You look annoying today," she said bluntly.
"What?" Aarav frowned. "Why?"
"You're smiling for no reason," she replied. "That's suspicious."
Their mother glanced between them. "Is something good happening?"
Aarav hesitated.
"I think… people might come again today," he said carefully.
Ananya grinned. "Told you."
Rakesh sipped his tea quietly. "Consistency matters," he said after a moment. "If you start something, do it properly."
Aarav nodded.
"I will."
And he meant it.
The hours crawled.
Aarav cleaned the room—not because it would suddenly make it look rich, but because he wanted it to look less embarrassing. He shifted the books, adjusted the phone angle, wiped dust off the table.
He even changed his shirt.
It was still old.
Still faded.
But it was clean.
At exactly ten minutes before stream time, he sat down, heart pounding like he was about to take an exam.
"Relax," he muttered. "It's just a stream."
His hand hovered over the button.
Then he tapped.
LIVE
"Viewers: 0"
Aarav didn't panic this time.
He launched the game and started talking—quietly, casually.
"Hey," he said. "If anyone's watching… welcome back."
Two minutes passed.
Then—
Viewers: 1
A notification popped up.
[ShadowPing]: yo
Aarav laughed softly.
"Hey," he replied aloud. "You made it."
He typed,
[Streamer]: welcome back
The viewer count ticked up again.
Viewers: 3
Another familiar name appeared.
[PixelFox]: laggy fan guy!
Aarav chuckled. "That's my brand now, huh?"
[Streamer]: budget ASMR part 2
Laughing emojis flooded the chat.
The room felt… alive.
Ten minutes in, another name appeared.
[RiyaM]: back again
Aarav's fingers paused for half a second.
Then he smiled.
"Hey," he said, voice noticeably warmer. "Welcome."
He typed,
[Streamer]: didn't expect u to return
[RiyaM]: i said don't quit
Aarav felt his ears heat up.
"Guess I didn't," he murmured.
The viewer count climbed steadily.
Five.
Seven.
Nine.
Someone clipped one of his plays.
[ShadowPing]: clipped that last fight
Aarav blinked. "You clipped it?"
[ShadowPing]: yeah. clean af
Clips.
People were clipping his gameplay.
The idea felt surreal.
Halfway through the stream, the inevitable happened.
The internet lagged.
Hard.
The screen froze mid-fight.
"No—no no no," Aarav muttered, tapping the phone uselessly. "Come on, not now."
The chat exploded.
[PixelFox]: RIP internet
[ShadowPing]: classic
[RiyaM]: lol calm
The screen unfroze just in time for Aarav to dodge an attack by pure instinct.
The clutch that followed was messy.
Desperate.
Perfect.
When the fight ended, Aarav let out a shaky breath.
"That… was not planned," he admitted.
[RiyaM]: makes it better
[ShadowPing]: bro survives on instincts
Aarav laughed.
"Story of my life."
Outside the room, Ananya listened with a smile, leaning against the wall. She didn't interrupt this time. She didn't joke.
She just listened.
Because for the first time, her brother's voice sounded confident.
Not loud.
Not arrogant.
Just… sure.
The stream lasted longer than usual.
An hour.
Then one hour and ten minutes.
The viewer count peaked at fifteen.
Fifteen people.
When the battery warning appeared, Aarav finally ended it.
"Thanks for coming," he said sincerely. "I'll be back tomorrow."
[ShadowPing]: see u
[PixelFox]: don't change
[RiyaM]: same time?
"Same time," Aarav confirmed.
He tapped End Stream.
Silence filled the room again—but this time, it didn't feel empty.
Later that night, Aarav checked the analytics with shaking hands.
Peak viewers: 15
Followers gained today: 6
Clips created: 3
Small numbers.
But growing.
Steady.
Consistent.
His father passed by the room, pausing briefly.
"You did good today?" Rakesh asked.
Aarav nodded. "Better than yesterday."
Rakesh smiled faintly. "Good."
That single word felt heavier than praise.
Before sleeping, Aarav opened the app one last time.
A new message waited.
[RiyaM]: u stream like someone who's hungry to win
He stared at the words.
Then replied.
[Streamer]: i am
Three dots appeared.
Then—
[RiyaM]: good. don't lose that
Aarav locked the phone and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
He wasn't rich.
He wasn't famous.
He wasn't strong.
But for the first time in his life—
He was moving forward.