till

out of all the apps you use — you chose the worst: discord. yes, that godforsaken app. it’s nonnegotiable. it wasn’t THAT bad in your opinion! you make maybe..one or two friends in total after joining a million servers, but it’s hard to find good ones that weren’t actually toxic and trying to call you slurs, dehumanize you. that’s the worst part about discord maybe? the people that creep around it and just..have no self respect for themselves to stoop down to that level? it was funny, really. you always end up leaving a server, they either ping way too much with the @everyone — randomly pinged you specifically to get you to start talking, or whenever you typed it just seemed like everyone knew eachother and wasn’t welcoming to new friends — god, why was being online just as hard as in person? it’s a fucking social app! it shouldn’t be that hard to actually go yap to someone. it’s like now a days everyone is a savage waiting for the wrong person to come in so they can jump them. you certainly didn’t want that to happen, therefore? you’re a server hopper, trying to find your placement somewhere. you’ve joined everything: anime, literature, sports, discussion, chill servers all for them to end up just..ass, yeah that’s the word that described it perfectly. the people there were racist and annoying, too flirtatious. questioned you way too often about your voice and the pitch of it — clearly people don’t know how to mind their business.

it doesn’t bite you in your ass, not at all. you swear you leave at least a good twenty of them soon as you’re displeased with them, only for you to come back looking for something else. like honey to a damn bee. it’s not like you’re a loser, you’re just bored! and when you’re bored, you’re dedicated. aren’t most people? you search through a tab online — dashbot? dashboard or whatever the fuck it’s called, searching through the long list of servers until something pops up into your mind — aha! music, like everything relating to music because who the hell doesn’t like music? it’s almost fundamental as learning. why didn’t you think of this before? through small clicks and making sure the groups weren’t too big — you actually find something: a size with at least thirty people max. meh, good enough for you. you can’t be too picky.

just like that, you’re in. opening your app, you’re greeted by a few people immediately:

m1zi: oh, we have a new person. hello!

neonhalo: who tf is that??

m1zi: ??? the new person

suawashere: luka!! don’t scare them off ＿|￣|○ they just got here

suawashere: hi! ignore him

neonhalo: my bad lol. nice to meet ya.

you have no response, your brain stopped working immediately when someone said hi. you’re just looking, fingers hovering over the keyboard after a minute passes by without you saying something, you want to but..they immediately put you on the spot just by saying something but you not responding definitely made it awkward.

yoaiking: is this thing on? yoaiking: i think they’re shy nvm. hyunapops: bruh, you idiots scared them off

that’s the last thing you saw. you let the conversation rot, closing out the app quickly after. maybe next time? yeah, that sounds good. the next time you actually enter discord is three weeks later when it’s the middle of the day, you want new friends right? that means you should type. you know that. gathering enough courage to send your fingers to type:

      ….
      ….
      …
       .

you send a hi.

you wait to see if anyone responds and for a second it’s silent. it’s by miracle that you weren’t left on read — someone responds, the person is the first one who greeted you: m1zi. they’re saying hi to you, asking how you’re doing with a smiley emoji.

the typing bubble pops up and disappears on your end at least twice before you finally answer, saying you’re good but just busy.

it’s nothing. painfully normal. but it still makes your chest feel tight, like you just ran up a flight of stairs. mizi replies with something light to keep a conversation rolling — asking what kind of music you like, mentioning they’re procrastinating on something— and you answer, short and safe. the conversation limps along for maybe another minute before it naturally dies. no dramatic ending, no awkward goodbye. just silence as other messages trickle in from elsewhere in the server. you stare at the screen for a second longer than necessary, then lock your phone and toss it aside. that actually wasn’t so bad. you don’t think you’ll leave yet, just to see how the others are. they seem friendly at least. from that short interaction alone, you’re trying to stick your nose into conversations a bit more, to check in. you don’t spill yourself out, but you do talk more. every single day you’re typing something to the server like a — hi, or a, how yall doing today? when the server is actually active with tons of people talking, the same people you’ve seen before actually interact with you, and eachother. thank god.

one afternoon you’re actually typing first, your screen fills:

m1zi: omg hi again suawashere: hey!! yoaiking: LMAO they live hyunapops: see i told you they’d come back

you blink at the messages, thumb hovering uselessly over the keyboard. it hasn’t even been five minutes since you opened the app and they seem okay with you being here, sweet.

you give a greeting. the responses are instant:

m1zi: HI suawashere: HOW ARE YOU yoaiking: damn we didn’t scare them off after all hyunapops: we? you mean you neonhalo: miracles happen

that joke tickles you a little, an actual quiet huff of air through your nose. you reply to that them, just a little jab back, and suddenly you’re… in it. not the center of attention, but not invisible either. the conversation keeps moving without you having to carry it for a good while, which is a relief. you jump in when you have something to say, drop out when you don’t. hours later, when you scroll back up, you realize how many messages you sent without overthinking each one. it’s subtle, the shift. but it’s there.

they’re quite active when they aren’t talking, posting about music — about songs they like, albums. writing, poetry — all of that. it’s lovely, you end up posting one into the channel called artistic choices, getting your first interaction with till: black heart followed by a few exchanges of words, praise of course from the both of you when you’re scrolling up and looking through their postings. it’s like heaven on earth.

over the next few long weeks, talking becomes a pattern: you show up. people say hi. sometimes they @ you, sometimes they don’t. you start recognizing rhythms—ivan’s late-night messages, sua’s excessive emoticons, mizi’s habit of greeting everyone like they just walked into a room. luka is still abrasive, but it feels less sharp now, more like noise than danger. hyuna is just chill as hell. then there’s till, he doesn’t talk much but when he does, it’s usually about music — dropping links without commentary, reacting to other people’s picks with a simple: “sweet,” or “this is good,” his username pops up often enough that you notice when he hasn’t spoken in a while.

discord works funny, really. when you actually bond with people, you get to know them better. hours turn into days and days turn into what? weeks, then months. you’d like to say by now you’re adjusted enough to not feel like you’re annoying. someone’s always pinging after a long day, the chat lighting up when everyone finally logs on at the same time. caps lock is fair game. jokes fly back and forth. when you pop in, people notice — not in a spotlight way, just a casual, oh, you’re here way. you give the same energy back without thinking about it. someone today mentions that they’re planning to call today. you pretend to no see it — but you end up getting wrapped in by a ping, this’ll be your FIRST time taking to them and something about that is a bit..well, scary? come hang out.

so you do.

you join muted. immediately. no hesitation there. the voices hit you all at once — overlapping laughter, someone’s mic crackling, background noise bleeding through speakers. it’s loud but not overwhelming, familiar in a way that surprises you. they’re already mid-conversation, arguing about something dumb, and nobody stops when you pop in. nobody goes quiet. that helps more than anything.

“oh shit, they joined,” someone says, easy, like it’s normal. “hi!” mizi’s voice cuts in, bright and warm. “you don’t gotta talk if you don’t wanna.” you don’t. not yet. you just listen. minutes pass. ten of them. fifteen. the conversation flows without effort — jokes, music tangents, ivan being loud for no reason, sua laughing a little too hard at everything and hyuna and luka poking fun at eachother while mizi controls her laughter. you relax into it slowly, shoulders dropping, breathing evening out. it doesn’t feel like you’re being watched. you’re just… there. actually enjoying yourself as you listen, at some point, you unmute. brave. your voice comes out quieter than you expect, but no one comments on it. no one points it out. someone responds to what you said like it’s the most normal thing in the world, and suddenly you’re talking. small comments, quick reactions. light work. no pressure. you’re laughing under your breath, smiling at the shenanigans brewing. you’re chilling as the conversation stretches late into the night.

du-duh! the discord notification sound cuts through the noise, aftert1ll joined the channel.

you barely react at first. just another person. someone says hey. you echo it back automatically, still riding the comfort of the moment. “hey,” a new voice says — oh. your brain short-circuits just a little. it’s low, not annoying low like someone is trying to fake. smooth like butter, a little rough around the edges like he doesn’t talk much but knows how when he does. it slots into the conversation effortlessly, like it was always supposed to be there. that’s till? you don’t say anything about it. it’s just an inside thought. how he talks about music with that easy familiarity, dropping titles, laughing softly when someone teases him. a few minutes later, his camera turns on. “lemme show you guys something,” he says, adjusting it. the screen fills with his setup — sketches spread out, a guitar leaning against the wall, something half-written open on his desk. he talks through it casually, explaining what he’s working on, hands moving as he gestures. his voice sounds even better like this, closer, more present.

you’re still talking. still contributing. but you’re quieter now, listening more than speaking. when he laughs, his eyes flick to the screen like he’s checking for reactions that weren’t there physically, but you feel it. that’s how it starts. not with fireworks. not with flirting. just a voice that’s too damn nice, a camera turning on, and the sudden, undeniable awareness that you’re paying attention to one person a little more than everyone else.

and you don’t mind it at all, it’s only a little interest.

you don’t work your way in overnight — it takes time. long enough for people to recognize your username, to greet you back without thinking, to notice when you’re there. you talk more, laugh more, settle in. friendships come easy after that, including with till. calling becomes routine. texting, games, sharing writing and music — all of it stretching late into the night until one by one, people start dropping off, goodnights filling the chat. eventually it’s just two icons left glowing on your screen. you and till, voices low in the dark. conversation slows, then deepens. you get to know each other without trying to, and somewhere in that quiet, something clicks. you don’t force it. not right away. you give it time—enough time for people to learn your name, to recognize it when it pops up in chat, to actually look forward to what you say. you settle in. friendships form naturally, overlapping and easy, until till is just… there too. familiar. calls become normal. not every night, but often enough. you all talk, play games, share music, write together. hours blur. eventually, people start dropping off one by one—goodnight, work tomorrow before the sun comes up or when it’s too late leaving just you and till left in the call. sometimes there’s silence. sometimes there isn’t. conversations stretch without effort, drifting from music to nothing at all. you learn the sound of his voice when he’s tired, the way he pauses before speaking. it happens more than once.

at some point, it stops being just the server. till starts replying to you more than he means to. a song link here. a comment about something you said in vc hours ago. dms happen without either of you acknowledging it as a thing. they just… stick. tonight, your phone buzzes.

Till: yo, you alive?

you answer fast.

Till: everyone dipped. it’s 2am and i’m bored.

you ask if he wants to talk. the typing bubble barely hesitates.

Till: yeah. kinda in a talking mood.

and you’re both hopping in call, there’s a beat of silence before he speaks, like he’s settling in.

“hey,” till says, voice low and unguarded. no crowd. no background noise. just him. the conversation drifts easily—music, nothing, everything. pauses stretch without getting awkward. time slips. it’s late before either of you notice. later than you should be up. neither of you hangs up.

just a quiet call at 2am. just till’s voice. just you, still awake.