The dorm was quiet. Tyler still hadn't come back. Kyle lay in his corner, facing the wall, breathing slow and even.
Dorian sat on the edge of his bed, towel around his neck, hair still damp from the shower. He picked up his phone.
Elise: you should come over. i'm live tonight. could use a handsome distraction 😘
His thumb hovered over the screen longer than it needed to. The message stayed open. Then his grip tightened slightly on the phone, like he'd made a decision without moving. He dressed. Grabbed his jacket. Left without waking Kyle.
---
He could see his breath in front of his face. He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets and walked toward the bus stop, watching headlights blur past, wondering if he should turn around.
The bus came. He got on.
The ride was longer than he expected. The city changed outside the window—fewer students, more neon, more empty storefronts with bars on the windows. He got off at a stop that smelled like fried food and exhaust.
Her building was newer than the others. A key code on the door. He texted her.
Here.
The buzzer sounded. He walked inside.
---
The elevator smelled like vanilla.
He could hear the music before he reached her door. Bass. Elise laughing. He knocked.
The door opened. Elise stood there, wearing a cropped top and high-waisted shorts, her hair down, full makeup. A genuine smile flickered at the corner of her mouth.
"You made it," she said. She stepped aside. "Come in. I'm live."
Dorian stepped past her into the warmth of the apartment. A tripod stood a few feet away, a phone mounted on it, aimed at the couch. Ring lights glowed on either side. Beside the tripod, on a small stool, sat a bottle of water.
As he walked further in, he noticed the velvet chaise beneath the window, the softboxes in the corner, the seamless paper backdrop against one wall.
He drifted toward the chaise and sat down, safely outside the camera's view.
---
The moment Elise tapped the screen, the room changed temperature.
Notifications began before anyone spoke. Gifts chimed across the screen. Elise danced while another woman on the split-screen talked, her body moving to the beat, and every few seconds she glanced at the chat.
"Thank you, KingLeo, for the roses."
"Girl, he sent another one," the other woman said.
"I see it."
"Stop encouraging him."
"I'm not encouraging him. I'm appreciating him."
The other woman laughed, leaned closer to her camera. Another chime. Another username. Elise smiled.
"Thank you, DarkKnight. Welcome to the stream."
The music slowed. Elise blew a kiss to the camera, then laughed at herself—soft, knowing—and three more gifts appeared before the chorus ended.
"So," the other woman said, "you still coming Saturday?"
"To the pool party?"
"Obviously."
"Depends who's hosting."
"Girl, it's BBL Kenzo's party. You know everyone's going."
Elise laughed. The chat scrolled faster. Dorian watched her work the room.
---
Elise glanced toward the chaise. "Come say hi to my friend," she said.
Dorian stepped into the frame.
On the phone screen, a woman with pink hair and a low-cut top waved.
"Mila, this is Dorian," Elise said.
"Hi," Dorian said.
"So that's The Horseman," Mila said.
Dorian raised an eyebrow.
Elise froze.
"Mila."
"What?" Mila laughed. "You talk about him enough. I thought he'd be taller."
"Mila."
"Oh my god, look at her face." Mila leaned closer to her camera. "Guys, she's actually embarrassed."
The chat exploded.
who's horseman
horseman???
lore drop
Dorian glanced at Elise.
She didn't meet his eyes.
---
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He felt it. Ignored it.
The stream kept moving.
---
A crown animation filled the screen, gold letters flashing across the chat.
NightOwl has sent a Supernova!
A golden explosion.
Elise's eyes widened. "Oh my god," she breathed. "Thank you, NightOwl. That's… that's insane."
"He's trying to impress you," Mila said.
"He's trying to impress him." Elise nodded toward Dorian.
The chat exploded again
who is he
is he single
what's his @
NightOwl: Have him take off his shirt. I'll send another.
Mila read it out loud.
"Oh, that's crazy work."
The chat accelerated.
shirt reveal
double it
let him decide
Elise looked toward Dorian.
Dorian's hand lifted halfway. Stopped. Dropped.
He reached for the water bottle beside the tripod and took a slow drink instead.
The chat immediately protested.
NOOOOOO
coward
worth a try
Another gift animation exploded across the screen. Then another.
Dorian watched the usernames scroll past.
Most of them weren't even talking to Elise anymore. They were talking about him. Arguing over him. Trying to get a reaction out of him.
Like the donations weren't gifts. Like they were bids.
Dorian returned to the chaise.
We gave them almost nothing, a voice stirred.
Imagine if we actually tried.
Dorian's jaw tightened slightly.
The thought vanished as quickly as it came.
But for the rest of the stream, he found himself noticing things he hadn't before.
The speed of the chat.
The way donations changed the conversation.
The way thousands of strangers could be steered with a smile, a joke, a glance.
Then he looked away.
---
The stream ended forty minutes later.
The music stopped. The ring lights died. Elise slumped onto the couch.
"Night, girl. Catch you later," Mila said. Her square disappeared.
Elise stretched, arched her back, caught Dorian watching.
"Like what you see?" She smirked.
He didn't take the bait. "You're good at that."
"At what?"
"Getting people invested."
She laughed, genuine. "Comes with the territory."
She pulled out her phone. "You hungry?"
Dorian shrugged. "Sure."
"Thai or Chinese?"
"Whatever."
She smirked. "Helpful." She scrolled for a moment, then tapped the screen. "Hope you like spicy."
He didn't answer. She set the phone down and turned to him.
"So. The shirt request. Why didn't you?"
"I don't perform for strangers."
"You performed for me."
"That was different."
Her smile softened.
A few more minutes passed.
They talked for a while longer. Elise checked her phone once.
Then the buzzer sounded.
She pushed herself up from the couch.
"Food's here."
She got the food. They ate on the chaise.
"So what did Mila mean? 'The Horseman.'"
Elise's fork paused mid-air.
"Nothing. She's just like that."
"She said it like she knew something."
"She doesn't know anything." Elise took a bite, chewed too long.
Dorian watched her.
"You told her about me."
"I didn't—" She stopped. Set her fork down. "We may have talked. Once."
"About what?"
"Nothing specific." She reached for her water, didn't drink. "Just… the way you carry yourself."
He leaned back.
"You were gossiping about me."
"I wasn't gossiping. I was… analyzing." She winced. "Oh god, that's worse."
He almost smiled.
"Don't," she said.
"Don't what?"
"Look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're enjoying this."
He didn't answer. He was.
The conversation drifted—brand deals, travel, the freedom of making her own schedule.
"Does it ever feel fake?" he asked. His voice was casual, almost distracted.
Elise's hand paused on her water glass. Her eyes stayed on the table.
"Sometimes," she said. Not defensive. Just honest.
She looked up. Held his gaze a moment longer than usual. Then she shrugged, and the mask slid back.
"But so does everything else after a while."
She stood, walked to the kitchenette, and refilled her water.
She leaned back, eyes on him. "You'd be good at this."
"I'm not selling myself."
"Everyone sells something. Time, skill, body, attention." She tilted her head. "You've just never had to think about the price."
The silence sat between them.
After they finished, she stretched, looked at the clock.
"It's getting late." A pause. Her voice was lighter than before, but there was something underneath it. "There's space here. If you wanted to stay."
Dorian looked at her. The implication settled without being named.
"I have class in the morning."
She nodded, walked him to the door.
"You're going to break some hearts, Horseman."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He glanced back once, then left.
---
The elevator hummed as it descended.
Dorian stared at the floor numbers.
His phone sat in his hand.
For some reason, he thought about the stream again.
The gifts.
The usernames.
The constant flood of attention.
We gave them almost nothing.
The thought surfaced on its own.
Not a voice this time.
Just the memory of one.
The doors slid open. Cold air rushed in from outside.
Dorian stepped into the night.
He checked his phone.
Priya: Are you even going to respond?
Before he could reply—
Red text bled into his vision.
[SUB-QUEST 4 TRIGGERED]
---
[END OF CHAPTER 51]