Adrian leaned back on the couch, arms folded, eyes drifting from the not loud television to the ceiling above. The quiet hum of the apartment settled in again, joined only by the soft buzz of Sarah's phone as she idly scrolled.
He turned his head toward her.
"You don't get bored just sitting here for hours?"
Sarah glanced sideways, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Not really. Watching your statue-mode self was entertaining enough."
Adrian rolled his eyes. "I was logged out."
"Still didn't move. Looked like someone hit pause on your soul."
He shook his head lightly, chuckling under his breath. "You've got too much patience."
Sarah leaned back with a groan, stretching her arms behind her. "Comes with living with Alice. If I can survive her three-hour phone rants and cooking experiments, I can handle chilling on a couch."
Adrian grunted, then let the silence settle for a few seconds. He tilted his head again. "So… what about Kara?"
Sarah perked up instantly, eyes glinting. "Oh? So you are curious."
He gave her a dry look. "You showed me her picture. I remembered seeing her before."
"Mhm. She's fun. Quiet around new people, but once she trusts you, she gets bold. You'll see." She wiggled her eyebrows like it was some inside joke.
Adrian didn't comment, eyes falling back toward the table in front of them. The thought returned, uninvited—Kara joining the game. The more he thought about it, the more pieces moved in his mind.
"Actually…" he said after a long pause, "I've been thinking of quitting the reviewer thing."
That made Sarah sit up straighter. "Wait, what? Seriously?"
He nodded once. "If I play Etheris the way I want to… I'll have to show my face on this one. People might recognize me even if I hide it. Plus, the starter gear we have—it's rare. It could draw eyes to us and people will invite themselves."
Sarah blinked. "You're worried about getting famous for being good?"
"I'm worried about losing the fun," he replied flatly. "It stops being a game once everyone's watching."
She didn't say anything for a moment, then leaned forward, elbows on knees. "That makes sense. I get it. But… kind of sucks. You were good at it."
Adrian gave a half-shrug. "It was always temporary."
Another silence passed. His stomach gave a faint, gurgling noise.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Hungry?"
Adrian sighed, sitting up. "Yeah. Didn't eat before logging in. My body's punishing me for forgetting reality again."
Sarah hopped up with a grin. "Let's go out then."
He blinked. "What?"
"I'm starving," she declared, heading toward the door. "And if I eat one more bite of Alice's cooking, I'll snap. I need food that doesn't smell like burned lemon and misplaced ambition."
Adrian gave a soft laugh. "That bad?"
"She made fish curry with blueberries last night," Sarah deadpanned, slipping her shoes on. "I'm done suffering."
Adrian stood, stretching his back and shoulders. "Alright. Fine. Where?"
"There's a noodle place two blocks down," she said. "Cheap, fast, doesn't poison me."
"That's a strong endorsement."
"Hey, standards matter."
They stepped out together into the early evening light. The city had cooled, but not by much—heat still shimmered faintly off the pavement, but a breeze cut through it, soft and welcome. People moved in little clusters, phones in hand, heads low, voices blending into a low urban hum.
As they walked, Adrian kept his hands in his pockets, letting Sarah lead.
"You really going to quit the channel?" she asked again, quieter this time.
He gave a nod. "Yeah. I think Etheris might be the first game I don't share. Just… play."
Sarah looked over at him, lips curled in thought. "Weird seeing you treat a game like that."
"It's not like other games."
She smiled. "No, it's not."
They turned the corner. The noodle place was just ahead—small, dim lights inside, a warm amber glow spilling onto the sidewalk. Adrian caught a whiff of grilled meat and spice.
His stomach rumbled again.
Sarah opened the door, holding it for him with mock grace. "After you, o wise critic."
He rolled his eyes but stepped in.
Inside was quiet but not empty. Two tables were occupied. A cook in the back raised a hand in greeting. Adrian and Sarah found a booth near the window, sliding into the seats with twin sighs of relief.
Menus were handed off. Orders are made quickly. They didn't need to look hard.
Sarah leaned her chin on her hand, peering across the table. "So. If you're quitting reviewing… what now? Just grind and chill?"
Adrian shrugged. "Maybe. Might even play without overthinking everything for once."
"Scandalous."
He smiled faintly.
As their food arrived—bowls of steaming noodles, savory broth, sliced meat and vegetables stacked high—Adrian took a breath.
Steam rose from Adrian's bowl, curling in delicate spirals as he took his first bite. The broth hit his tongue with the kind of deep, savory flavor that made his eyes half-close. The noodles were perfectly chewy, the sliced beef tender, the vegetables still crisp.
"This is good," he muttered.
Sarah, already halfway through slurping her own, pointed her chopsticks at him. "Told you. Real food hits different."
Adrian nodded, taking another spoonful. The warmth in his stomach spread quickly, the hunger fading. He leaned back for a second, staring out the window as neon signs blinked on in the distance.
Soon, he thought.
Once he reached the capital city in Aetheris, everything would shift. That was the first location where players could transfer Etheris credits into real currency through licensed vendors. No more grinding goblins or selling trash loot for bronze. He could start pulling income—maybe even live off it for a while.
Which meant things would change.
The calm early-game rhythm would be over. The playerbase would become fiercer. People would start tracking rare drops. Building databases. Meta strategies would flood in, and the dreamlike freshness of discovering things on your own would start to fade.
He set the thought aside, digging back into the bowl.
Sarah wiped her mouth with a napkin, already eyeing him across the table. "You look like you're thinking way too hard for someone eating beef noodles."
"I'm always thinking."
She smirked. "That's why you suck at rhythm games."
He blinked. "What?"
"C'mon. We're hitting the arcade after this." She slid out of the booth like it was decided. "I need revenge after you stole the last slice of beef."
"I didn't—"
"Revenge," she repeated firmly, pointing.
Adrian raised his hands in surrender, a reluctant grin slipping onto his face. "Fine."
The arcade was just across the street, nestled between a laundromat and a bookstore that smelled like old paper and rain. Inside, it was all bright lights and ambient techno music, the rhythmic clack of buttons and the hum of old machines filling the air.
Sarah headed straight for the two-player rhythm section.
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "We're starting with Dance Pulse 4?"
"I like your suffering."
He sighed and stepped onto the platform beside her. The game booted up with a flash of lights and sound. Sarah selected a track with a wicked BPM and gave him a side-glance like a villain before the final boss.
The game began.
Adrian tried.
He failed.
Sarah danced through the steps with ease, long limbs fluid and feet light, grinning the entire time. Adrian looked like he was trying to avoid invisible laser beams, missing half the steps and half the beat.
The song ended. She won. Obviously.
"Still got it," she said, flipping her hair dramatically.
Adrian rubbed the back of his neck. "You train in this or something?"
"I have a life outside of RPGs, you know."
He didn't answer, mostly because he was trying to regain his pride.
They moved through a few more games—air hockey, a light gun shooter, even an old-school claw machine that Sarah insisted was "rigged by evil spirits."
Finally, as they stood in front of a co-op dungeon brawler and loaded credits, she leaned her shoulder lightly into his.
"You know… this would be a great stream," she said casually. "Too bad we can't."
Adrian gave her a look. "No faces. Remember?"
"I know." She pouted dramatically. "Still. The banter? The betrayal? The tragic failure? Gold."
He shook his head, smiling a little. "You really want to stream everything?"
"Not everything," she said, glancing at the machine's screen. "Just the stuff I'd want to watch again."
They played.
They argued.
And for a little while, nothing existed but bright screens, flashing lights, and the soft echo of laughter in an arcade barely half full.
They moved to a two-player beat-em-up next. Some ancient arcade relic with pixel sprites, cheap hitboxes, and combo chains that barely made sense.
Sarah picked the girl in the red jacket with a baseball bat. Adrian went with the quiet guy in the suit who punched like a truck.
"Don't steal my health packs," Sarah warned as the screen scrolled right.
"You die too fast to use them."
"That's rude, and also true."
The buttons clicked as they fought their way through pixelated thugs. Sarah kept getting surrounded and screaming like she was actually under attack. Adrian, meanwhile, just sighed and cleaned up her messes. It was chaotic, messy fun—like they'd slipped back to being kids in a mall on a lazy Sunday.
Then her phone buzzed.
And again. Then again.
She frowned, pulling it out mid-fight. "Ugh, what now—"
The ringtone broke the noise of the arcade, sharp and whiny. She looked at the screen, already wincing. "It's Alice."
Adrian glanced over as her face twisted into guilt. "She mad?"
Sarah answered on speaker.
"Where the hell did you go?!" Alice's voice exploded through the phone. "I left for twenty minutes to help Dad and I come back and both of you are gone?! Like I'm the abandoned wife in some trash drama?!"
Sarah held the phone away slightly. "We went to eat. You weren't there."
"I SAID I'D BE BACK."
"You were taking forever."
"I WAS GONE FOR TWENTY MINUTES, SARAH!"
Adrian muttered, "It was closer to an hour, actually."
"Thank you, Adrian," Alice snapped through the phone.
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. Chill. You want food or something? We're at that ramen place, and now we're at the arcade."
"No. I don't want your sorry noodles. I want to be invited before the party leaves."
Adrian tried not to smile as he slouched against the machine. "Technically, we did invite you. You just weren't there."
"I swear I will turn this game into a murder sim," Alice growled. "Don't make me use my tank build in real life."
Sarah tapped the phone. "Calm down, Overkill Queen. We'll meet you back home."
Alice was silent for a second. Then:
"…Did you at least bring me dessert?"
"No," Sarah said. "But I thought about you while eating mine."
"I'm blocking you."
The call ended with a dramatic beep.
Sarah tucked her phone away and exhaled.
"Well," she said, "she's mad."
Adrian nodded. "She'll be fine. She gets like that when she doesn't get to pick the restaurant."
"True." Sarah looked at him, then smirked. "We should bring her one of those milk buns. It might save my life."
"She'll still make you do something embarrassing in-game to make up for it."
"Yeah…" She paused. "Totally worth it though."
They went back to the game.