far from what the eyes could see

THE GLITCH

📖 Chapter 2 – The Glitch

Killian adjusted the camera again.

Same angle. Same lighting. Same effortless view stretching behind him.

Perfect.

“Alright… we’re back,” he said, flashing that familiar half-smile. “Miss me already?”

The numbers climbed—fast.

Faster than usual.

He noticed it.

Didn’t react.

Didn’t need to.

“Relax,” he added smoothly, leaning back into the couch. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Comments flooded in.

Heyyy

You’re early today

We’ve been waiting

Killian chuckled lightly, scanning the names.

Then paused.

A username repeated.

Twice.

Three times.

He blinked.

Scrolled.

Different comments.

Same name.

“…Alright,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

Probably nothing.

He leaned forward again, slipping back into rhythm.

“So what are we doing tonight?” he asked. “You people look too eager.”

The chat responded instantly.

Too instantly.

Talk to me

Notice me

Say my name

Another repeat.

Same username.

Again.

Killian’s smile held—but thinner now.

His eyes flicked across the screen, slower this time. Careful.

Watching.

“Y’all moving fast tonight,” he said, forcing a light tone.

A donation popped.

Then another.

Then three in quick succession.

Too quick.

His gaze sharpened.

The timing felt… off.

Like the stream was moving ahead of him.

Anticipating him.

He shifted slightly in his seat.

“Alright, slow down,” he laughed, raising a hand toward the camera. “One at a—”

The message appeared.

It didn’t pop like the others.

It didn’t slide into the chat.

It just… sat there.

You’re not as smart as you think.

Killian stopped mid-sentence.

The words didn’t move.

No username.

No color.

No reaction from the rest of the chat.

Just that line.

Still.

Waiting.

He stared at it.

“…Okay,” he said after a second, letting out a short laugh. “We’ve got a critic.”

The chat kept moving.

Ignoring it.

Completely.

Killian’s eyes flicked back and forth.

Message.

Chat.

Message.

Chat.

Still there.

Unmoved.

“…You see that?” he asked, leaning slightly closer to the screen.

No response.

Just more comments.

More noise.

More money.

Like nothing had happened.

His jaw tightened.

“Alright,” he said, sitting back again. “Cool.”

Another donation.

Right on cue.

Right after the pause.

Killian didn’t smile this time.

His fingers tapped lightly against his knee.

Once.

Twice.

The message flickered.

Then—

You’re not in control.

His breath caught.

Just slightly.

Barely noticeable.

But enough.

He leaned in again, closer now.

“Okay… who’s doing that?” he asked, voice lower.

No reaction.

No acknowledgment.

The chat kept flowing—normal, loud, oblivious.

Or pretending to be.

His eyes scanned faster now.

Searching.

Looking for anything else that didn’t belong.

Another comment came through:

You’re funny tonight

Another:

Say my name again

Then—

We’re watching.

Killian froze.

The room felt tighter.

Smaller.

The light from the screen suddenly too bright.

“…Alright,” he said quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s enough for today.”

He reached forward—

—and ended the stream.

Silence.

Immediate.

Heavy.

Killian stared at the blank screen.

His reflection stared back.

Breathing steady.

Too steady.

“…Just trolls,” he muttered.

He grabbed his phone.

Opened the stream replay.

Skipped through.

Fast.

Faster.

Chat replay.

Normal.

All of it.

Usernames.

Comments.

Donations.

Everything exactly where it should be.

No strange messages.

No interruptions.

No glitches.

Killian frowned.

Scrolled back again.

Careful this time.

Slower.

Watching every line.

Nothing.

“…No,” he whispered.

He checked the chat logs.

Nothing.

He checked blocked users.

Empty.

He leaned back slowly, phone still in his hand.

The room was quiet again.

Too quiet.

His eyes drifted to the corner of the screen.

The reflection.

Still there.

Still him.

But something about it…

felt delayed.

Just slightly.

Killian blinked.

It matched him perfectly again.

He let out a short breath and shook his head.

“Yeah… okay,” he said, more firmly now. “Just a glitch.”

He stood up, pacing once across the room.

Then back.

“Too much screen time,” he added. “That’s all.”

His voice sounded normal.

Convincing.

Almost.

He picked up his phone again—

as if to prove something to himself.

The screen lit up.

For a second—

just a second—

the display distorted.

A flicker.

A shift.

Then a notification appeared.

No name.

No number.

Just a message.

We’re still here.

Killian didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

The screen went back to normal.

No message.

No notification.

Nothing.

Slowly…

very slowly…

Killian lowered the phone.

“…Right,” he whispered.

But this time—

he didn’t sound convinced at all.