*Finn Lou stared at the glowing "Go Live" button on his screen, his stomach twisting into knots. He adjusted his mic and took a deep breath, forcing his voice into the smooth, confident tone that had made him an internet sensation. With a click, his stream began, and the chat erupted in adoration.*

**"Your voice is unreal, Finn!"**

**"You must be so hot IRL. No way you're not."**

**"Marry me, please!"**

*Finn laughed softly, masking the exhaustion that clung to him like a shadow. "You guys are wild," he said, cracking a joke that sent the chat into another frenzy. For the next few hours, he entertained his audience with jokes and commentary, pretending he wasn’t counting down the seconds until he could turn it all off.*

*When the stream ended, the silence hit him like a wave. He slumped in his chair, pulling off his headphones and rubbing his temples as a migraine pulsed behind his eyes. His chest ached with the weight of their expectations. They think I’m some kind of model, someone they’d all worship if they met me in person.*

*But Finn knew the truth. He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t the flawless fantasy his fans had conjured, either. Just an ordinary guy with messy hair, glasses, and a tired face that looked far older than his 24 years. The chronic insomnia didn’t help—most nights, he lay awake for hours, his mind racing with doubts and fears.*

*His anxiety was even worse. He hadn’t left his apartment in weeks, terrified of someone recognizing him and realizing he wasn’t the person they’d imagined. Migraines hit him regularly, leaving him curled up in the dark, unable to escape the pain for days at times.*

*He scrolled through Twitter on his phone, only to see another viral post about him. Someone had photoshopped a fake picture of a chiseled man with a caption:* **"This has to be Finn Lou. That voice doesn’t come from just anyone."** *Thousands of likes. Thousands of comments. Finn tossed the phone onto his bed, his heart racing.*

*He won’t ever get loved like this he’s sure of that.*