two in a million,, tommyinnit.

xxv

A rush of warmth seeps through my cheeks as I realise the two of us are alone in the call. Still, in an effort to keep up my online persona, I scoff and raise an eyebrow.

"That bitch of a green blob, am I right?"

Tommy chuckles awkwardly. "Mhm. Yeah. I dunno what he's even on about most of the time."

We sit in silence for a second. "So, what are you actually doing here?" he asks. "In the Dream SMP Discord server, y'know."

"What kind of a dumb-ass question is that?" I snort, all pretending aside. "I'm on the server now, idiot. Like, an actual part of it."

"Oh, really? Why?" The whine is audible in his voice, and although I know he's putting it on, it still pains my chest a little that he sounds like he's actually pissed at me.

"Well, yeah. Because I'm cool."

"Well. Debatable."

"Excuse me, Mr. 'Coke Addiction.'" I hesitate. "As in, like, the drink. Don't cancel me."

"As if drinking shit-tons of Sprite is any better," he says, and the eye roll is practically audible within his voice.

"Hey! Sprite is great, asshole. And how do you know I drink Sprite anyway?"

"Well, you're always sitting there with your dumb little green can on stream."

"The can has yellow and silver on it too, actually. And all this is proving is that you watch my streams."

His complaining stops. "Well, not because- it's not like- they aren't-" he says, tripping over his words. He finishes with a mature flourish:

"You suck."

"Whatever. I'm gonna go steal your stuff now." I skip off down the oak path, which continues far into the distance. "Where's your house?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The sound of aggressive mouse-clicking fills my headphones, and a few seconds later a message in yellow text pops up in the game chat:

TommyInnit joined the game.

"Where are you?" he asks.

"Can't catch me!" I sing, continuing down the wooden walkway. "Oh, I bet this one's yours." I stop in front of an ugly dirt-and-cobblestone shack.

If you could go as far as to even call it that.

"It's actually so disgusting."

"Wh- no it's not!" he argues. "It's modern! Creative!" His reaction confirms my suspicion.

"You probably don't even know the definition of 'creative.'" Various double chests line the walls of the single-roomed hovel, and I right-click them impatiently. "Oh, wow, you have tons of blocks."

"Don't you take any of them."

"Lol."

"You did not just say 'lol' out loud."

"Lol." I finish shift-selecting all of the six and a half stacks of cobblestone and a stack of glass, as well as a selection of iron and tools, then run off, only to bump straight into Tommy himself.

"What did you do?" he asks suspiciously, his enchanted armour shimmering violet.

"Nothing," I say, elongating the word with a half-smirk on my face.

The item in his hand suddenly switches, and a netherite sword whooshes through the air and hits my character.

"Hey, hey!" I screech. "Fuck off, man!"