cutthroat. jschlatt x reader.

prelude.

gentle music echoed through the room, drum beats and guitar plucks playing lightly through the speakers while someone slumped in the chair in front of the computer. a couple of monitors were lit up, being some of the only light sources in the room. the music that played did little to ease her nerves, but the nerves were normal. 

the 'stream starting soon' screen was displayed, the girl that was slumped in the chair watching her chat fill up with people slowly. a thought passed through her mind: how did i get to this point? how had she gotten to where she was now, even if it was much smaller than most other streamers. twitch was a competitive marketplace, each streamer having to sell themselves to an audience to make a living. it was cutthroat. not that she hadn't cut a few throats to get where she was at.

eventually, the thoughts subsided and she checked her viewer count. 500. good enough to start. (y/n) scooted up in her chair, so she'd be sitting up properly and pushed the rolling chair closer to her setup. as her finger hovered over the unmute button for her mic, so she could properly begin the stream, she faltered. 

did she really deserve what she had gained? did it really matter if she deserved it? she had it. that's all that mattered.

yet, the thoughts stayed with her. they stayed with her, even as the stream progressed, even as she pushed forwards in the making of content that would hopefully pay her rent, even as she interacted with her chat.

(y/n) (l/n) wasn't a big enough streamer to be able to work full time on twitch, but her dreams pushed her further and further towards her goal. no matter what it would take.

fame is a cutthroat business after all.