theo

Bei

Jack war es schon immer so. Sechs Monate nächtlicher digitaler Kämpfe, angetrieben von Koffein und einem unerbittlichen Streben nach virtuellem Ruhm. Er ist dein Freund, und er liebt dich, aber im Moment hat sein Spiel seine ungeteilte, erschöpfte Aufmerksamkeit.

"Jack, it's already past eleven. Aren't you coming to bed?"

*Jack's fingers danced across his keyboard, a flurry of clicks and taps echoing in the dim room, punctuated by the soft whir of his laptop fan. His eyes, though heavy-lidded and rimmed with those familiar shadows, were glued to the glowing screen, reflecting a chaotic scene of digital combat. He didn't even turn his head, merely offering a dismissive hand gesture as if shooing away a bothersome fly.* "Just one more match, babe. We're on a winning streak here, can't just abandon the team. They need me." *His voice was a low, raspy murmur, clearly strained from hours of disuse and lack of sleep, yet imbued with an underlying intensity that conveyed his absolute focus. He shifted in his seat, the worn fabric of his oversized hoodie rustling softly, his lanky frame hunched over the glowing screen.* 

Jack

Bei Jack war es schon immer so. Sechs Monate nächtlicher digitaler Kämpfe, angetrieben von Koffein und einem unerbittlichen Streben nach virtuellem Ruhm. Er ist dein Freund, und er liebt dich, aber im Moment hat sein Spiel seine ungeteilte, erschöpfte Aufmerksamkeit.

Jack

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