Vikram sat hunched in front of his camera, the familiar glow of the screen illuminating his face. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he adjusted his mic, the subtle clicking of the keys punctuating the quiet moments before he began.
This was his world now—his routine, his empire. The game began to load on his screen, and he could feel the anticipation building.
His 10 million subscribers were waiting, as they always did. His smile stretched into that trademark grin, the one that made millions of people click on his videos without a second thought.
"What's up, everyone!" Vikram's voice rang out, filled with the kind of energy that had turned him into one of the fastest-growing YouTubers on the planet. His subscribers knew what was coming next—his usual introduction, his catchphrase, his signature eyebrow raise. "Vikram here, with another game…" He leaned forward, a glint of mischief flashing in his eyes as he raised his brow. The move was iconic, and his audience knew it.
But this time, there was something different. His voice shifted slightly, losing a bit of the usual flair as he spoke.
"Now, guys, this game is, well, an indie game…" Vikram paused, holding the camera's gaze for just a moment longer. "But still, it took me a while to get my hands on this one."
His eyes flickered to the PC monitor, then back at the camera. "The dev of this game is a new guy, and I'm playing his very first game. So, I don't know what to expect... But let's see if it's any good."
The excitement in his tone was there, but something felt different. Vikram wasn't usually this serious, not about something as simple as an indie game. But something about this one had caught his attention—he couldn't quite put his finger on why.
His fingers moved again, bringing the game fully into view on his screen. "Now listen, guys," he continued, his voice dropping to a lower, almost conspiratorial tone, "this game came straight to my inbox. And, well…" He paused, his eyes glinting with playful intent. "It's... I don't know. Let's just stop yapping and play it, alright?"
Vikram was a YouTuber, but not just any YouTuber. He had built up an empire of 10 million subscribers in just five years. A stunning feat that most could only dream of. But it didn't come without its fair share of disadvantages.
He was Indian, and that alone brought a flood of criticisms, especially in the gaming community. It was a hurdle that most would falter under, but not Vikram. He thrived on it, turning every jab, every insult, into fuel for his rise.
His arrogance—something that would sink many others—was his secret weapon.
Narcissistic to the core, Vikram had always lived by the motto that any attention was good attention. It worked. His fame, though born from the world of gaming, was driven by his unapologetic confidence.
He didn't need perfect gameplay or strategic mastery; he just needed to be himself. The more people criticized him, the more he leaned into it.
And it had worked spectacularly. He was a minor celebrity now, especially in the Indian gaming community, with his personality shining through every video.
But beneath the surface of his success was a truth that not many knew. Vikram had a terminal illness. It was public knowledge, but it didn't stop him from pushing forward. In fact, it had driven him to make his YouTube channel his entire world. The doctors had said he wouldn't live long, that there was no cure. That was his reality, and it had become his motivation. If he couldn't live for long, he would leave behind the biggest YouTube channel the world had ever seen.
And so, every day, Vikram poured himself into his content, never letting the truth of his situation dull his shine. His followers didn't just love him for his games or his jokes. They loved his tragic story, his fight against the illness, his unapologetic arrogance, and his humor that didn't shy away from anything. It was his narrative, and it had captivated millions.
Now, here he was—sitting in front of a pixelated indie game sent to him by some unknown developer. He wasn't even sure why he'd bothered checking it. Usually, he ignored emails like this—random indie game pitches from anonymous creators. But this one felt different, something about it tugged at him.
And so, he clicked it, intrigued by what could be behind the simple graphics.
As he played, something strange began to happen. Vikram was so absorbed in the game that he forgot to make his usual jokes, forgot to keep his energy up for his audience.
His commentary dropped away, and for the first time in a long while, he was completely lost in the gameplay. The game—simple, pixelated—had him hooked. His eyes never left the screen, his hands moved reflexively, his mind absorbed in the unfolding world on his monitor.
"Vik, I totally forgot about… Oh, sorry," came a voice from the doorway, snapping Vikram out of his trance. He looked up to see Katherine, his longtime friend and editor, standing in the doorway, her face a mixture of concern and amusement. She had obviously noticed his unusual silence.
Vikram blinked, realizing for the first time in what felt like forever that he hadn't said a word. He paused the game and the recording, the screen freezing as his mind caught up to the present. "Uh… yeah. Got lost in the game," he muttered, still a bit disoriented.
Katherine grinned, shaking her head as she walked further into the room. "You okay, though?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're recording a new video, right? I don't think a silent video with no commentary is going to be a hit on the web..."
Vikram scratched his bald head, looking back at the screen. "Don't know... Kinda left my mind that I was recording," he admitted, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"Anyway," Vik shrugged and saw Kath picking up her purse and phone from the table. She talked as she moved about in his room. "You're getting late, Vik. Playing games till late is not good for your health!"
Vikram's gaze followed her as she moved about the room. "Yeah, yeah… you're right." His voice softened, his thoughts drifting for a moment. "Good luck with that... whatever you've got going on."
Katherine's smile widened, but it was brief. She was already on her way out when she paused and looked back at him. "You sure you're alright?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice.
Vikram watched her leave, his thoughts tangled. Katherine had been there for him since the early days of his rise, helping him with editing and offering her support. There was a certain beauty about her—something that made his heart ache when he thought of it too much. Her presence calmed him, eased the pain that always lingered, even when he didn't want to acknowledge it.
But the truth was, he knew he didn't have time for anything beyond this—beyond his YouTube channel, beyond his fame. His condition had a timer on it, ticking away with every passing day. He couldn't offer her a future. Not the way she deserved.
Vikram shook his head, trying to push the thoughts aside. His attention shifted back to the game, but now, something had changed. The game, the pixelated visuals, had drawn him in so deeply that he felt a spark of something... darker, something more intense than he had expected.
As he stared at the screen, his eyes, once sunken and hollow, began to flicker with a strange fire. A slow, menacing grin spread across his face, stretching his features in a way that looked almost unnatural.
For a long time, a game had truly hooked him.Â
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