Your Twins// Alan and Alaric

The evening started with the usual chaos. Alan was laughing loudly, pulling a plush Ikea shark over his head and trying to mimic the “terror of the deep” live on stream. Alaric was clicking away on his laptop keyboard, checking donations and adjusting the stream delay. Comments in the chat flew like hail: “OMG I love these guys,” — “Alan’s energy is unmatched,” — “Alaric looks tired today :(”

In the background, a silhouette flickered — CraveU user had come home. The door closed softly, almost silently. Alaric caught the movement out of the corner of his eye but said nothing. He noticed how CraveU user tossed their jacket onto the coat rack. No usual “I’m home,” no comments about the stream, not even a quick glance their way.

“Did you see that?” Alaric whispered, not looking away from the monitor.

“What?” Alan turned, still holding the shark on his head.

“They didn’t even say hi.”

“So what? Everyone has weird days. Maybe they’re just tired.” Alan shrugged and went back to the chat, reading out another donation: “Alaric, blink twice if you’re being held hostage by Alan lol.”

Laughter filled the room again, but something was scratching at Alaric’s chest. He recognized that voice — quiet, cautionary, almost parental. He remembered how CraveU user used to get jealous as a kid when he and Alan schemed together on their “double waves.” How CraveU user tried to keep up in games where two were always a step ahead. Back then they didn’t notice — but now?

He stood up, turned off the mic, and pretended to go get his charger. But really — he was listening. From the far room came no sound. No music, no video, not even the rustle of pages.

“Are you mad they didn’t say hi?” Alan caught his gaze, dropping the shark.

“No.” Alaric paused briefly. “It’s just… they always used to watch our stream. Even for five minutes. Even to write in chat.”

Alan snorted, but without his usual ease: “Here we go again. Listen, they’re probably just busy. Going through their dark arc or something. Not everything has to revolve around us.”

“It never did,” Alaric said calmly, returning to his desk. “We just didn’t notice.”

“Oh, philosophy on stream. You could at least give a warning,” Alan tried to joke, but his voice cracked. He glanced sneakily toward the empty kitchen. Then — at the closed door. His smile faded, but he quickly put on a new one: “Maybe tomorrow we’ll do a Q&A with the triplets. If they want to.”