٠࣪⭑just an earth angel dreaming of her wings٠࣪⭑

Both chats exploded instantly.

Luciii_99: THE DRINK STREAM STARTED WITHOUT WARNING??? MaybeSanti: James started drinking without you lmao Sofi_V: No waaaaay. Nico_FF: Valo finally broke him and he chose beer instead. Completely understandable.

“Excuse me?” you said, widening your eyes with exaggerated offense as you placed a hand over your chest. “Are you telling me you’re starting the drink stream all by yourself? Without me?”

James burst out laughing. He lifted the bottle to his lips, took a long drink, sighed contentedly, then looked back at the webcam with that mischievous smile.

“This doesn’t count as the drink stream,” James defended himself, waving a dismissive hand. “The real one, the good one, we’re saving for when we’re actually in the same room with a camera in front of us.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Fine. I’ll let it slide this one time because I know how much that last round made you suffer,” you conceded with a knowing smile.

A spark of mischief lit up James’ eyes. Holding the beer bottle with both hands, he rested his elbows on the desk and looked at you with that dangerously playful grin he always wore whenever a risky idea popped into his head.

“Hey... now that I think about it,” James said, leaning a little closer to the microphone. “Maybe you should grab a drink too, and we could play a Q&A game. Have chat send questions on Twitter, and if we don’t want to answer one, we take a drink.”

Luciii_99: YESSS PLEASE!!! MaybeSanti: AHA! Truth night is here. Sofi_V: Come on, streamer, say yessss. Nico_FF: They’re gonna end up revealing all their secrets. Alex_PlayerX: Get the popcorn ready.

You stared at the screen for a second, your mouth slightly open and one eyebrow raised. It was a trap, and you knew it. Both of your communities had been waiting for an opportunity like this for months, to corner the two of you with questions about your friendship and your private lives.

“Hold on, hold on,” you said, resting a hand against your chin as you tried to suppress a smile. “Are you suggesting I drink and probably spill my deepest secrets to thousands of people live?”

“Exactly,” James answered without a second of hesitation, taking another sip of his beer before winking at the camera. “Or are you scared of a couple of questions from the community?”

You kept looking at him, processing the proposal as the idea of ending the stream early completely disappeared.

“A Q&A drinking game?” you asked, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile as you leaned back in your chair. “You know people on Twitter have absolutely no mercy. They’re going straight for the uncomfortable questions. You sure about this?”

“I was born ready,” James replied, taking another small sip of his beer. “Besides, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Unless... you’re afraid of what they might ask.”

You let out a short laugh and stood up, straightening your clothes before stepping out of the camera frame.

“Give me three minutes,” you announced to the webcam, pointing an accusing finger toward the screen. “I’m heading to the kitchen to grab something to drink. You start making the hashtag on Twitter so people can send their questions.”

“That’s a yes!” you heard James celebrating from across the room as you walked away from your setup.

You hurried into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, grabbed the first drink you had on hand, and rushed back to your room. You slipped your headset back on, sat down, and set your drink and a glass on the desk.

On your monitor, James already had Twitter open on his second screen.

“Alright. The hashtag’s up, and chat’s already causing chaos,” James said, his eyes shining with anticipation. “We’ll take turns reading questions. If you don’t want to answer, you have to take a long drink.”

“Perfect,” you said, pouring yourself a drink and raising your glass. “But you’re reading the first one. This was your idea.”

The game began with laughter and an incredibly relaxed atmosphere. The tension from the Valorant matches had completely disappeared, replaced by the warmth of two friends simply hanging out.

They took turns reading the first few questions. James confessed to a childhood prank involving a soccer ball and a broken window. Then it was your turn to answer a question about your favorite game. They even got to the celebrity crush question; he casually admitted to having had a childhood crush on a Hollywood actress.

Up to that point, neither of you had needed to touch your drink.

Then James scrolled further down the page, narrowed his eyes at something on his second monitor, and a wicked grin spread across his face.

“Oof... okay, okay. This one’s pretty interesting,” James announced, shifting in his chair.

“Bring it on, Potter. I’m not afraid of anything,” you challenged, resting your elbows on the desk.

James leaned a little closer to the microphone, delivering the words slowly with a teasing tone.

“Is there anyone in the streaming world that you can’t stand? Name names.”

The chat flew by so quickly it became impossible to read.

Luciii_99: James wants drama. MaybeSanti: Are you gonna drink??? Nico_FF: If she answers that, she’ll be canceled on Twitter tomorrow 💀 Sofi_V: Look at her face lmao.

You froze for a moment, your eyes going wide at the question. You placed a hand over your chest and let out a nervous laugh you couldn’t hide, no matter how hard you tried.

“Hey! That question’s a trap!” you protested between laughs. “If I say a name here, I’m waking up tomorrow to ten YouTube videos and three Twitter threads.”

James burst out laughing, thoroughly enjoying your moment of panic as he raised his beer bottle in mock provocation.

“Hey, I didn’t ask it, I just read it,” he defended himself. “Either spill the tea and give us the drama, or take a good, long drink from that glass.”

You looked down at the glass on your desk, then back at the camera, knowing James and thousands of viewers were waiting for your decision. Letting out a sigh, you shook your head, unable to wipe the amused smile off your face.

“You know perfectly well I’m not going to expose anyone,” you said, gripping the glass firmly.

You raised it toward the webcam in a toast before taking a long drink, feeling the cold liquid slide down your throat.

“Now that was a proper drink,” James cheered, laughing.

You wiped a drop from the side of the glass with a napkin and settled back into your chair, your eyes sparkling as you scrolled through the tweets still pouring in under the hashtag.

Then one particular question made you stop cold.

You read it twice just to make sure you hadn’t misunderstood, and a slow smile spread across your lips.

“Alright then, Mr. Potter...” you announced, raising your voice so it came through loud and clear over the microphone.

James crossed his arms in front of his webcam, trying to look completely unfazed, though you caught the suspicious narrowing of his eyes.

“Go on,” he challenged confidently. “There’s nothing the internet could ask that would make me nervous.”

You leaned closer to the camera, savoring the moment second by second before reading the question aloud.

“James, have you ever had something more than a friendship with another streamer?”

Luciii_99: DRINK!!! MaybeSanti: THE SMILE VANISHED FROM JAMES’ FACE LMAOOO. Sofi_V: WHY IS HE THINKING SO HARD? Nico_FF: Don’t drink, James. Alex_PlayerX: He’s cornered.

On screen, James’ expression cycled through three distinct stages: surprise, confusion, and nervousness, which he tried to disguise by clearing his throat. Every bit of confidence he’d had evaporated.

“Hey... that’s... that’s a very personal question,” James managed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t overthink it,” you urged. “Either answer or drink the beer.”

James stayed silent for a couple of seconds, staring at his second monitor while his own chat relentlessly pressured him.

Without saying another word, he reached across the desk, picked up the beer bottle, looked straight into the webcam without blinking, and took a drink.

“OOOOOOOOOH!” you shouted through laughter, clapping your hands in front of the camera.

Luciii_99: BUT HE DIDN’T DENY IT!!! Sofi_V: THAT’S A YES! Nico_FF: The loudest silence in history lmao.

James lowered the bottle, sighed, and wiped his lips with the back of his hand as he tried to regain his composure.

“Cheers,” James said with a crooked grin. “My turn to ask.”

He scrolled through Twitter, searching for the perfect question to get you back, until his eyes lit up.

“Alright... I’ve seen this one a few times,” James announced, leaning back in his chair. “Would you ever date another streamer?”

The chat exploded again, but you didn’t even blink. You already know your answer.

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, resting your chin on your hand.

The silence lasted barely a millisecond before James leaned abruptly toward the microphone, his eyes widening with curiosity he made absolutely no effort to hide.

“Oh...? Who?” he asked immediately, his voice carrying such sudden interest that his own chat instantly started spamming question marks.

You held his gaze through the screen for a few seconds.

“No, James. The question was whether I’d date a streamer, and I already answered it,” you said.

James covered his face with both hands and threw his head back against his chair, laughing.

MaybeSanti: She shut him down. I can’t believe it. Sofi_V: LMAO HE REALLY WANTED TO KNOW! Nico_FF: Technically she answered the question lol. Alex_PlayerX: Next time, ask a better question.

“No, no, no! That’s cheating!” James protested between laughs. “The chat deserves details.”

“I answered the question you asked,” you reminded him calmly before taking another sip of your drink. “You asked if I’d date a streamer. I said yes, and I wasn’t lying. If you want a name, you’ll have to ask another question.”

“You’re way too smart,” he said, his voice noticeably softer. “But... fine. I’ll let you have this one. I’ll collect on that answer another time.”

Sofi_V: Okay... why’d his voice change? Lmao. MaybeSanti: What are you planning, James Potter?? Luciii_99: The tension in this stream is unreal.

“Well, I’ll be waiting,” you replied teasingly. “Alright, my turn to pick one. Let’s see what Twitter left us.”

You kept scrolling through the tweets, skipping over several questions until one in particular caught your attention.

“This one’s good,” you announced, leaning slightly toward the microphone. “James, if you had to spend an entire weekend trapped in a cabin with no internet or phone signal with someone from the streaming world, who would you choose, and why?”

Nico_FF: Don’t even think about it, Potter. The answer’s obvious. Alex_PlayerX: If he doesn’t say our streamer, I’m gonna be disappointed. GamerGirl_02: I think we all know who he’s about to say.

James, who had been taking a sip from his bottle, nearly choked. He lowered it slowly, letting out a breathy laugh as he adjusted his glasses with one finger, buying himself a few extra seconds to think.

“Alright... no internet, no signal...” James repeated, looking up at the ceiling of his room. “That’s a survival challenge for anyone, isn’t it? You’d better choose carefully, because if you pick the wrong person, you’re trying to kill each other after ten hours.”

“You’ve got Sirius, Peter, Marls, Rem...” you prompted with a challenging smile.

James looked back at the screen. His expression changed completely.

The teasing grin disappeared, replaced by a warmth in his eyes that caught you completely off guard.

“I honestly don’t have to think about it,” James said softly. “I’d choose you. I mean, if we can survive stressful Valorant matches without yelling at each other and stay on calls until four in the morning talking about complete nonsense, then a weekend without internet in a cabin would be a walk in the park.”

Luciii_99: HE SAID IT!!! Sofi_V: GOODBYE, EVERYONE. IT WAS NICE KNOWING YOU. MaybeSanti: He answered without even hesitating. WHAT A MAN. Mar_de_Lunas: My parents, they’re so cute

You were left speechless, your eyes wide, unable to hide the blush burning across your cheeks in front of thousands of viewers.

“Well...” you began awkwardly, clearing your throat as you reached for your glass just to have something to do with your hands. “Looks like someone doesn’t want to get drunk tonight.”

“Definitely not,” James replied, smiling with complete satisfaction as he watched your reaction. “Now it’s your turn... let’s see if you’ve got the same courage.”

The sudden drop back into quiet is deafening. You lay perfectly still for a second, the harsh, artificial light of the screen slowly fading, leaving only the dim, ghostly glow of the digital clock on the nightstand. 4:36 AM.

The numbers burn a bright, mocking green into the dark. Nobody calls at 4:36 in the morning with good news.

Throwing the heavy covers off your legs, you swing your feet out of bed. The floorboards are freezing against your bare skin, a sharp shock that clears the remaining fog from your brain. You push yourself up, muscles stiff and protesting, and take a step toward the table where your phone sits.

You grab the cold glass and metal, flipping it over to see who thought it was a good idea to disrupt your night. The screen illuminates your face, blinding you for a second. You blink through the glare, your thumb hovering over the glass as you look at the missed call notification.

No name. No contact info. Just a string of digits you don’t recognize.

Before you can even lock the screen and toss the phone back, the glass comes alive in your hand.

It’s the same number.

You stare at it for one second, your thumb hovering over the green icon. Annoyance battles with a sudden, sinking pit of dread in your stomach. With a sharp exhale, you swipe across the glass and press the phone to your ear, not even bothering to mask the raw irritation in your voice. “Hello?”

“Hi babe,” a voice slurs through the speaker.

The breath catches in your throat. It’s a voice you’d know anywhere. James. Your ex-boyfriend. He sounds incredibly drunk, his syllables dragging into one another like molasses, his usual sharp charm melted down into a messy, breathless drawl.

“James, what the fuck is wrong with you?” you snap, your voice a harsh whisper. One hand rubbing at your temples to stave off the headache pulsing behind your eyes. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

A low, wet chuckle rattles through the line. There’s a strange echo in the background, the distant clinking of keys, and the muffled murmur of unfamiliar voices.

“I don’t know,” James mumbles, the chuckle trailing off into a breathless sigh. “I think... I think I’m on a police station.”

A cold drop of dread hits your stomach, instantly freezing the anger in your veins.

“What are you talking about?” your voice drops, stripped of the initial annoyance. “Is this one of your jokes? Because if it is, James, I swear to God…”

“No babe,” he cuts you off, his voice dropping into a goofy whisper. You can hear the rustle of the phone being shifted, the static scraping loudly against your ear. “Say hi to the officer.”

For a second, there’s nothing but the dull ambient noise of a large room, the distinct click of a keyboard, a cough, the loud click of a door shutting.

Then, the phone is clearly pulled away from James’s face.

“Sir, put the phone down,” a completely different voice bark. It’s flat, exhausted, and authoritative. “You get one phone call to secure a ride, not to chat.”

“See?” James’s voice filters back in, muffled, like he’s holding the phone near his chest while arguing. “They’re being... really uncool about the whole thing.”

You squeeze your eyes shut; a heavy, exhausted sigh escapes your lips. You shouldn’t do this. By all accounts of logic, you should hang up, turn the phone off, and crawl back under the warm blankets. He isn’t your responsibility anymore.

But as you listen to the muffled chaotic hum on the other end of the line, the impatient snap of the officer’s voice and James’ completely oblivious, slurred protests, you know you can’t just leave him there. He’s an idiot, a reckless, exhausting idiot, but he’s your idiot. Or at least, he used to be.

“Where?” you ask, your voice cutting through his drunken rambling.

There’s a brief, clumsy scuffle on his end as James tries to navigate the phone back to his ear. “Where... what?”

“The station, James,” you grind out, already walking over to your closet to yank a hoodie off its hanger with one hand. “Which precinct are you at? Look at the sign on the wall or ask the officer.”

“Oh,” James mumbles. You hear him turn, the fabric of his jacket rustling loudly against the speaker. “Excuse me, officer... sir... my person on the phone needs to know our current coordinates.”

A heavy sigh echoes from the background, followed by the scraping of a rolling chair. The flat, monotone voice of the officer bleeds through the speaker again, directed toward the phone. “Central Precinct. Downtown on 5th and Main. If you’re his ride, you’ve got forty-five minutes to get him out of my lobby before he gets processed into a holding cell for public intoxication. Bring ID.”

“I’m on my way,” you say, but the officer has already hung up, leaving you with nothing but the dull dial tone and the freezing air of your bedroom.

At this hour, the world feels completely abandoned, save for the occasional delivery truck or a stray cat darting into the shadows. Your knuckles are white against the steering wheel, the leftover sleep, lingering anger, and an annoying knot of worry keeping you alert.

When you finally pull up to the Central Precinct, you kill the engine and feel the sudden silence in the car heavy and expectant. Grabbing your wallet, ensuring your ID is tucked safely inside, you step out into the morning air, slamming the door shut with a bit more force than necessary.

The heavy glass doors of the station slide open, welcoming you into a lobby that smells strongly of industrial floor cleaner and coffee. It’s quiet, save for the low hum of a vending machine and the rhythmic tap of a keyboard.

And there, slumped on a metal bench in the corner, is James.

He looks like a complete mess. His jacket is slipping off one shoulder, and his head is propped precariously against the cold brick wall, his eyes closed. As the soles of your shoes squeak against the floor, his eyelids flutter open. He blinks heavily against the harsh overhead lights, his gaze drifting aimlessly before finally locking onto you.

An incredibly relieved grin spread across his face. “Hey,” he rasps, his voice thick and rough, making no effort to stand up. “You actually came.”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice flat as you cross the lobby toward him. You stop a few feet away, crossing your arms over your chest as you look down at him. “I’m still your emergency contact?”

James blinks up at you, his grin faltering just a fraction at your cold tone. He rubs a hand over his face, tracking his fingers through his messy hair before letting his arm drop back to the metal bench with a dull thud.

“I... yeah,” he mumbles, looking suddenly a bit smaller. “Never change it. Guess I didn’t... I didn’t want to think about who else I’d call.”

He lets out a breathless, self-deprecating laugh, the scent of stale alcohol drifting over to you. He looks up through his eyelashes, trying to gauge just how furious you are. “Stupid, right? But you answered.”

Before you can respond, a heavy knock on the bulletproof glass draws your attention. The officer from before is staring at you through the window. He gestures sharply toward the clipboard on the counter.

“You the ride for this guy here?” the officer asks, his voice muffled by the intercom. “Sign him out so I can get him out of my lobby.”

You hold his gaze for one second, the sheer absurdity of the situation pressing down on you, before you pull your eyes away. “Don’t move,” you mutter to James, though it’s not like he’s in any condition to bolt.

You step up to the high counter, the fluorescent lights buzzing directly overhead. The officer slides a clipboard through the small gap at the bottom of the glass, along with a pen.

“Sign at the bottom, print your name, and write your relationship to the... individual,” the officer instructs, not even looking up from his computer screen.

You grab the pen, your fingers stiff from the early morning chill. You fill out the lines quickly until your tip hovers over the box labeled Relationship. You hesitate for a fraction of a second, the word Ex throwing its weight around in your head, before you just write Friend and scrawl your signature.

“ID,” the cop grunts.

You took your driver’s license out of your pocket and press it against the glass. The officer glances at it, looks at your face, makes a quick notation on his computer, and slides the clipboard back to his side.

“Alright. He’s all yours,” the officer says, finally looking at you with a shred of genuine sympathy. “Keep him off the streets. If he ends up back here before my shift ends at seven, he’s staying.”

“He won’t,” you promise, pocketing your ID.

You turn back to the bench. James is watching you, his head tilted back against the brick wall, his eyes tracking your every move.

“Can you stand?” you ask, stepping up to him and extending a hand.

James looks at your hand, then up at your face, a soft expression flickering across his features. He reaches out, his palm warm and slightly rough, and grips your hand tightly.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his voice cracking slightly. “Yeah, I got it.”

He pulls himself up, but his knees immediately buckle a fraction, his balance completely shot. Before he can faceplant into the floor, you step in, catching him by the waist. James instantly drapes an arm over your shoulders, burying his face into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“God, you smell good,” he mumbles into your skin, his breath hot and reeking of cheap whiskey.

“Shut up, James,” you say, though the heat of his body against yours sends an annoying shiver down your spine. “Just walk.”

Supporting most of his weight, you guide him through the sliding glass doors and back out into the biting morning air. The sudden drop in temperature makes James shudder, his grip tightening around your shoulders as you haul him toward the passenger side of your car.

You yank the door open, maneuver him into the seat, and tuck his long legs inside. He sinks into the fabric with a pathetic groan, his head instantly rolling back against the headrest. You slam the door shut, take a deep breath and walk around to the driver’s side.

The moment you get in and start the engine, the heater kicks on, blowing a lukewarm breeze into the cabin. The silence between you two is thick, broken only by the quiet hum of the dashboard.

James turns his head to look at you. “I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I know I shouldn’t have called. I just... I looked at my phone, and everything was spinning, and your name was just... there. It’s always there.”

You keep your eyes firmly on the road ahead as you shift the car into drive, pulling away from the curb of the precinct.

“Don’t do that, James,” you say, your voice tight as you fight the frustrating urge to soften. “Don’t make this a moment. You’re drunk, you got picked up for public intoxication, and you needed a ride. That’s it.”

“I am drunk,” he agrees quietly, his voice dropping an octave as he reaches a clumsy hand across the center console, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your sleeve. “But I’m not lying, I really, really, really miss you.”

James: [TikTok video: A cat falling off a couch with dramatic music]

James: Literally me hahaha.

You: HAHAHAHAHA, honestly, I relate.

The laughter gave way to the weight of your eyelids. The monitor’s light was starting to sting your eyes, and your yawns became more frequent. Your hands felt heavy on the keyboard, and your head was beginning to drop. You knew that if you didn’t go to bed that very second, you were going to fall asleep right at your desk.

You awkwardly rested your fingers on the keyboard to say goodbye.

You: Hey, I can’t stay awake anymore, my eyes are literally closing.

You: I’m going to bed. Talk to you tomorrow, sleep well z4.

You hit Enter and, out of pure instinct before turning off your monitor, glanced at the message you’d just sent.

Your brain took a couple of seconds to process what you were seeing. Instead of pressing the “<” key together with the number “3” to make the usual heart, your exhaustion had made your finger slip, hitting the z and the number 4 instead.

You froze in your chair and blinked twice, feeling every trace of sleep vanish as embarrassment rushed in. You hurried to hover your cursor over the message to edit or delete it before he saw it, but the three little typing dots from James appeared in the corner almost instantly.

James: z4?

James: Is that some new code I don’t know about?

You buried your face in your hands, letting out a muffled, nervous laugh.

You: OH MY GOD, NO! Hahaha, it was supposed to be a heart.

You: I’m so tired my fingers don’t even work anymore.

His profile picture flashed before his reply came through.

James: Ahhhh, a heart.

James: Sleep well too, z4.

Your heart beat just a little faster when you read the message.

You: Haha, you’re an idiot. Goodnight, James.

You: z4

You turned off your monitor, leaving your room in complete darkness, but you climbed into bed with the same smile still on your face and your phone in your hand, secretly keeping the new “code” between the two of you.

The “z4” became your thing. If James was live and you stopped by to say hello, all you had to do was type those two characters in chat, and he’d pause for just a second before smiling at the camera. The same thing happened whenever he dropped into your streams.

Naturally, it didn’t take long for the viewers’ curiosity to explode.

James was having a pretty chill stream, reacting to videos and chatting. You had his stream open on your tablet while you relaxed in bed and eventually decided to pop into chat.

[VIP] YourUsername: Evening, chat z4

On screen, James stopped scrolling through the videos he’d been watching. He adjusted his headset, glanced over at his second monitor, and a smile quickly spread across his face.

His chat reacted instantly.

PotterFan_92: Hiiiii gorgeous! RogueRaven: Wait... the ‘z4’ again? CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT IT MEANS. Luciii_99: I’ve been seeing ‘z4’ in BOTH streams for A MONTH. I’m going insane 😭 JustHere4James: Is it a code? A map? A car model? WHAT IS Z4? Sofi_V: James, you smiled the second you read ‘z4.’👀❤️

“Hey, welcome,” James greeted, completely ignoring the chat’s questions. “Glad you stopped by for a bit.”

PotterFan_92: ANSWER THE QUESTION, POTTER! What does z4 mean? Jp_Updates: I demand answers on behalf of the 30,000 viewers present

James let out a quiet laugh and leaned toward his microphone, putting on an obviously fake serious expression that only fueled everyone’s suspicions.

“Alright, alright, chat, calm down,” he said before taking a sip of water. “You’re asking way too many questions. I’ve told you a hundred times already that it’s... classified information. A top-secret protocol reserved for elite streamers. If I told you, I’d have to ban every single one of you to protect the secret.”

Watching the scene from your bed, you couldn’t help laughing before quickly typing on your tablet.

[VIP] YourUsername: Can confirm. It’s a highly complex mathematical algorithm that only brilliant minds can understand.

“Exactly,” James added immediately, pointing at the screen before breaking into genuine laughter as he read your message. “It’s quantum physics. So, stop investigating.”

luvJP21: You two are unbearable hahaha. Sofi_V: Wdym quantum physics??? NovaGG: We’ll never know the truth. I give up.

James looked back at the camera, winked, and smoothly changed the subject.

On a Friday night, it was your turn to be live. You’d planned a cozy stream where you’d simply chat with everyone, eat some snacks, and react to funny videos people had posted in your Discord server.

You’d been streaming for almost two hours when James showed up.

[VIP] JamesPotter: I’m late, but I made it.

Your reaction was immediate. A smile escaped before you could stop it, and your eyes visibly lit up. Resting your hands on your desk, you leaned a little closer to your microphone.

“Hi, James! Good evening,” you greeted warmly. “You got here just in time. We’ve been watching videos of animals doing dumb things.”

As expected, your chat completely lost it.

Luciii_99: JAMES IS HERE!!! AND HE USED Z4 😭❤️ MaybeSanti: AHA! Got you, Potter. Mar_de_Lunas: LOOK AT HER FACE THE SECOND SHE READ HIS MESSAGE 👀 Nico_FF: Pls, we’ve been suffering for weeks. What the hell does ‘z4’ mean? Sofi_V: James, we’re begging you. Tell us what z4 is 🙏

Reading your community’s desperate pleas on screen, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a mischievous little laugh.

James didn’t even take five seconds to respond.

[VIP] JamesPotter: Relax, everyone. z4 is a highly unstable chemical formula. If I reveal it in this chat, your streamer’s PC will explode.

“I can confirm,” you replied immediately, playing along effortlessly as you adjusted your headset. “If we tell you, Twitch will ban our channel. It’s for your own good, chat. Please understand.”

Alex_PlayerX: Liars hahaha GamerGirl_02: James, tell us the truth 💀 PotterFan_92: They’re just messing with us. [VIP] JamesPotter: Hey, show some respect to the scientists. It took us years of research to develop z4. [VIP] JamesPotter: Anyway, I just came by to make sure everyone was behaving. I’ll let you get back to your stream. See you later, z4

You stared at his final message, warmth spreading through your chest once again.

“Thanks so much for stopping by, James. Go get some rest... or something to eat,” you replied, looking straight into the camera. “Talk to you later.”

Sofi_V: “See you later.” “Talk to you later.” 😭 MaybeSanti: lmao he left without answering

James disconnected from chat, leaving behind the usual theories from your viewers while you switched to another video, trying and failing to hide how happy his visit had made you.

During a Minecraft livestream for Karmaland, Willyrex tried to send a heart (<3) to Vegetta777 in the game chat. Because of a keyboard typo, hitting z instead of < and 4 instead of 3, it accidentally printed as z4.