Haze clicked the stream live button on Wednesday afternoon and watched the viewer count stay at zero. She spun the wheel for the first choice alone, same as always, picking a personality type for her hero character. Then the number changed — two viewers. Her heart jumped. She leaned toward the camera and said hello, trying not to sound too excited. A chat message appeared from Emily, her best friend. Emily suggested that her little sister Hanna should be the hero. Then another message came through — their school bully Isaiah should be the villain. Haze laughed and added both names to the wheel. For the first time, other people were actually here, watching, deciding things with her. The wheel spun with real votes behind it. The vintage dial filled her monitor screen, its brass needle spinning past vibrant colored sections. Numbers glinted under her desk lamp as the pointer slowed. It landed on villain traits for Isaiah. Haze typed them into the game while Emily sent laughing emojis in chat. Hanna sent one too, just a smiley face, careful and small. The project had been hers alone for weeks, just her voice and three confused dogs. Now it belonged to someone else too. Across town, Hanna sat on the pastel pink couch in Emily's room, laptop balanced on her knees. The birch side table held Emily's phone, both of them watching the same stream on different screens. Emily kept typing suggestions, fast and confident. Hanna only sent that one message, the smiley face, but she was smiling for real. She watched Haze build her character in the game, a little hero with Hanna's name attached. Isaiah got a sharp nose and mean eyes. Emily elbowed her and Hanna laughed. Haze saved the character designs and looked at the chat. Two viewers felt like twenty. She picked up a smooth stone from her desk, one Emily had painted for her last summer with their names carved into it. She turned it over — Isaiah's name was on the back, added as a joke after he'd made fun of their art project. Now all three names were in her game, spinning on her wheel, part of something new. The stream had become what she'd wanted it to be. Not her talking to herself anymore. A place where people showed up and made choices that mattered, even small ones.

Haze stared at the character creation screen. Hanna needed a personality — the game required it before she could move forward. Kind? Energetic? Stubborn? The list sat there, waiting. Emily and Hanna were both offline now, probably at dinner or doing homework. The chat was empty again. She could pick one herself and keep going. That's what she would have done yesterday. But now it felt wrong, like cheating. She added all seven personality types to the wheel. Then she opened the stream settings and scheduled the next broadcast for Thursday after school. She typed a title: "Picking Hanna's Job — Vote Live." The words looked official on the screen, like a promise she couldn't take back. Her stomach tightened. What if nobody showed up? What if Emily forgot? The wheel would just sit there spinning with no votes, proving the whole thing was fake. But she clicked save anyway and logged off. Thursday came and she went live at four. Emily joined the chat within two minutes. Hanna appeared thirty seconds later. Haze's hands shook as she explained the vote — seven personality options, pick one for the hero. Emily typed "popstar" in all caps. Hanna sent a question mark. Haze laughed and added Popstar to the wheel, then spun it. The needle slowed and landed on Popstar. Emily sent a string of microphone emojis. Hanna typed "omg no" but she added a laughing face after it. Haze clicked through the job selection screen and gave Hanna a brown hat with a pastel pink bow and tiny rose gold hearts. The game built a stage for her character automatically — pink curtains draped in soft swoops, bright orange tulips clustered at the edges, a white platform in the center. It looked like something from a dream, too pretty to be real. Haze took a screenshot and posted it in chat. "Your debut," she typed. Emily responded immediately: "when's the next stream?" Haze looked at her calendar, then back at the chat. She'd always said no deadlines, no pressure, stream when it felt right. But they were asking now. They wanted to know when to come back. She typed "Saturday, same time" and hit send before she could change her mind.