I honestly didn't expect that stupid little message to effect him so much.

Finn acts so cool, like nothing ever gets to him. And while I know that can't be true, the fact that I can get to him is a big fucking shock to me. The guy may not hate my guts--at least he's never said as much publicly--but he barely tolerates me. I've been a menace in every space he occupies, and while I'm sure my psychologist would have something to say about why that is, I've always assumed I'm an annoyance to him at best.

But when the boss spawns, he just stands there, completely idle. In the Cyclones' stream I can hear his teammates yelling for him. I even hear his coach at one point. He's so fucking out of it that even when he takes the pull, he keeps taunting the boss back instead of letting the off-tank handle it. It's the sort of performance I expect from randoms, not from somebody who makes their living playing games.

What happens after that is a predictable train wreck, and I feel like I'm watching it all in slow motion. Finn goes down, and before he can be resurrected his off-tank goes down. With nobody to hold its attention, the dragon starts blanketing the whole fucking raid team in fire. One of my idiot guild members gets roasted because he's too close, but everybody else is practically howling into their mics as they lose their shit over this very public Cyclones failure.

A failure I caused because I couldn't keep my dirty fucking thoughts to myself.

Maybe I'm giving myself too much credit, but damned if it doesn't feel like there's a clear line of cause and effect here. People are going to wonder why Finn choked. He's going to get chewed out for losing them those points. And if I were a better person I could hold my team back and let the Cyclones go again. But we need those points more than they do. I need those points to prove to my dad my "hobby" is legitimate, and so as soon as the boss resets, I rally my team and charge in.

I won't say it isn't rough. We don't have the talent or discipline of the Cyclones, and some of our DPS don't even have the gear needed for this fight. We brush right up against the boss, enraging and murdering the whole raid, but the well-geared players carry the rest and the healers keep me and the other tank alive long enough to finish the job. A dead virtual dragon lays at our feet, ready to be harvested for those sweet, sweet qualifying points.

But as the rest of my team is celebrating, I still feel like an asshole. The Cyclones hung back just to pick up the pieces if we wiped, but now that the boss is dead they're dispersing, getting on their mounts and flying to the nearest city hub, teleporting the fuck away from the carnage. Finn's long gone, already signed off the game, and I have to stop myself from reading back in the stream chat to see if anybody started saying shit.

Because of course I'm protective of a guy that I made fuck up. I'm a hypocritical piece of shit.

"Fucking fag was probably choking on some guy's dick during the pull."

I hear the harsh sound of one of the kids in my guild. He told us he was twenty when he joined, but I'm positive he's sixteen at the most. He's an obnoxious fuck during the best of times, but he's got a racist, sexist, homophobic streak to him that gives everybody else a bad name. It doesn't come out often, but if it were up to me, he wouldn't be a member of the guild anymore.

Since our guild leader isn't going to do anything about it, I snap out, "Seriously, dude? Why don't you try having some fucking empathy for once in your pathetic life.”

There's a chorus of "ooohs" and some unintelligible bullshit on several mics at once. Eventually I hear the kid respond, "Wow, somebody got her period early."

Great, so we're getting the sexist commentary in with the homophobic slurs. And the lowest hanging fruit possible. Fantastic.

"Period jokes. So edgy. Good job, dude. Your five followers will be so hyped when you post this later." I don't feel like sitting here and listening to these guys play off of each other like the most idiotic mob, so I peace out. "Bryson, divide up the loot. I've got shit to do."

Before anybody can say anything about it, I log out of the channel and turn myself invis on Discord. Not the most adult move I've ever pulled but trying to quietly and maturely extricate myself from those guys never works once they get going. It becomes a circle jerk, and I'm the guy on my knees in the middle of it all, just sitting around waiting for them to finish the hell up.

Without my guild in my ear, though, my curiosity gets the best of me. I scroll up in the Cyclones' chat--way up, since it's been non-stop active for a while now--and find the moment where Finn choked on the pull. A lot of people are concerned. One of the mods even says the team is probably dealing with some technical issue. I wish it stayed that way, but I know firsthand how toxic the internet can be, and it quickly devolves.

A bunch of Twitch emotes follow, until a few people are just spamming them nonstop. I fucking hate that shit. I'm not going to say I've never communicated by emoji, but flooding the chat box with the same stupid face over and over again just tells me that person has nothing of value to say, and I scroll right on past.

The same person posts a link I've seen a thousand times. I recognize it by heart now, even if the shortened version is just a bunch of letters and numbers. I don't have to click on it to know it's going to take me to a screenshot of Finn's Grindr profile. Some asshole blasted it all over the internet six months ago, claiming he'd hooked up with Finn and was willing to sell the video he took. The whole thing was bogus, except for the profile. The last time Finn and I were in the same city, I looked it up myself.

It doesn't really "expose" anything. Finn's made no secret of the fact that he's gay, and he's even been open about hooking up in the past. There's no problematic shit on there. No "masc4masc" or any thinly-veiled preferences for race or body type. But it still doesn't need to be made public, and the fact that it's surfacing again pisses me off.

The more I read, the more that agitation grows. The chat becomes a breeding ground for homophobia, and while the mods boot the assholes behaving like my guildmate, it doesn't stop the flood of new people coming in and doing the same thing. The Cyclones' fans wage all-out war against chat newbies, and Finn's stans come out in force, ultimately just making everything worse for everyone involved.

Ten minutes of scrolling and I can't take it anymore. I push away from my desk, my chair rolling over the mat as I get to my feet. My apartment suddenly feels claustrophobic, and I step out into the breezeway to get some air. A cool wind blows between the buildings and I draw in a few lungfuls of it. While I don't feel like I'm drowning anymore, the whole thing is still pressing down on me.

I could ignore it and hope it goes away. Not like I don't have a bunch of other shit to worry about. But instead I pull my phone out of my pocket, ignoring all the notifications from people tagging me and instead opening up Discord. I check my friends list and find Finn there, though he's not online. The last thing I sent him was some cheeky Buzzfeed quiz about "what your Estalia Online class says about you." I damn near roll my eyes at myself. It's not that I never realized how much of a "notice me" vibe I'm giving off, I've just usually been able to play it down.

"You desperate motherfucker," I mutter to myself, closing Discord only to reopen it a few seconds later.

God dammit.

My thumbs move over the virtual keyboard as I type out a message to him. He may actually be offline, but if he's like the rest of us, he's got Discord going to his phone. There could be a chance he'll see it, and I need to say it regardless.

No reply, and no indication he's typing anything. I let out a sigh, frustrated with myself, and just sit my ass down outside my apartment like some jilted lover. My phone vibrates a few seconds later, the Discord notification popping up. As soon as I open it, I see a response from Finn.

Not surprised he latched onto that. I could've phrased it a little better, but I'm not going to take back what I said and act like I'm totally innocent. On some level, I knew what I was doing.

Wow. Okay. I'm starting to feel a lot less guilty about what I did. My fingers fly over the keyboard, and I'm not even thinking before I hit send.

I expect him to just stop responding at that point. Maybe he'll finally block me. But after a few seconds, I can see him typing a response.

I laugh aloud at that. Seriously, dude? If he wants to bring it there, I can play those games, too.

He doesn't respond to that, and I wonder if I've crossed a line. I mean, I know I have. The rational side of me knows that, at least. The lust-crazed beast I turn into every time I think about Finn McLaughlin doesn't seem to get that, though. I rein myself in and go to apologize, but Finn finally responds.

My heart's pounding, and I'm realizing now I probably shouldn't be outside where everybody can see the massive bulge in my pants. So much for not turning into a lust-crazed beast.

For a while there's no answer, which isn't really the thing you want to see after propositioning some guy. Which... Jesus. How did it even get to this point? One second I was apologizing, and the next I'm thinking about how many times I can make Finn come in one night. It's all I can think about now, until he finally responds.

The amount of time it took him to respond, the fact that he didn't just tell me to fuck off confirms one thing to me: that Finn McLaughlin is an entitled cocktease. And I'm going to show him just how wrong he is.