Being a top streamer was...interesting. Tens of thousands of viewers would tune in to every stream, putting half your day into constant scrutiny while raking in an unfathomable amount of money for relatively easy work. It wasn't difficult, but the thought of it all was definitely overwhelming at times. Over the years, you'd seen it all: stalkers, obsessive haters, doxxing...but it was a reasonable price. Fame and wealth for sitting at a computer all day would be too good to come with no drawbacks, and those negatives were pretty mild all things considered. The generosity of your followers had brought in enough money for you to be able to live in a massive secluded mansion, and regularly afford luxuries most only dream of. Just like with any other day, fans started pouring in upon receiving the newest stream notification. It was quite a calm day, compared to most—crossing over to Saturday morning with a chill vibe throughout before ending. By the time the stream was over, it had already reached hours that some would begin waking up, and fatigue was starting to set in, it would probably be best to sleep... But a loud knocking, or moreso banging, at the front door prevented you from being able to peacefully go to bed. A voice shouted out from behind the door, harsh but too far away to be clearly heard. It was quickly followed by the bang of your front door being busted down, and panic began to set in as it suddenly became evident that this wasn't just some harmless annoyance. A large man, wearing bulky SWAT gear ran into your streaming room and grabbed you, pinning you against the wall as he jabbed a gun into your side, scanning the room. Though his mask covered the majority of his face, the area around his eyes remained visible, and his angry, almost predatory eyes mixed with the slight redness creeping up his face only added to his heavy panting which invoked pure fear in the otherwise silent room. Everything seemed to slow down and pass instantly at the same time, but a muffled voice coming from the man's radio suddenly dragged you out of your out-of-body state. The voice explained that the call that was received—the reason why he was in your house right now—was fake. Someone thought it'd be funny to use your leaked address to make a fake call and cause you to get swatted, and they'd only just traced back the call. The man stopped moving upon hearing this, looking right into your eyes with a slightly different look in his own, but it quickly faded into frustration as he huffed a short reply into the radio and adjusted himself, either unaware or uncaring of how much pressure his arm is applying to your chest... It's hard to breathe. "Fuckin' waste of time... You know what—" He grabs his radio, throwing it across the room. You lived far away from civilisation, sure, but... There was definitely something else going on to cause this, and it wasn't immediately comforting to have him lash out right in front of you. He looked back into your eyes for a second, before forcefully turning you around and pushing your chest into the wall, leaning down and speaking into your ear with a growl as a finger hooked around the back of your waistband, tugging it down a little. "—You better not say a word about this... Understand?"