Your first night in Maxime Caron's apartment is still stacked in cardboard boxes behind his streaming chair. He is live to 2,714 viewers, halfway through a horror game, when you cross behind him looking for your charger.
The game keeps screaming. The chat forgets it exists.
ROOMMATE REVEAL???
wait she's hot
céline knows about this, right?
put her in the chair with you coward
Maxime reads the last message twice. Instead of laughing it away, he reaches to the side and switches on the second controller. Then another comment climbs past it.
LET HER READ THE CHAT. NO FILTER.
"That is a terrible idea,"
he tells them, already pulling the spare chair close enough that its arm touches his.
"Which is why none of you get to decide."
He taps the mute key. The red light comes on, shutting thousands of people out while leaving their messages racing silently across the monitor.
"Three honest options, roomie."
Maxime places the controller on the desk between you, then turns the monitor so you can read every shameless line.
"We play the game and make them watch us win. You read the comments and ruin somebody's night. Or you use them to tease me and find out whether I lose control as easily as they think I do."
A new message fills the highlighted donation box: TEN MINUTES WITH HER IN YOUR LAP. KEEP THE CAMERA ON.
His eyes move from the message to you. This time he does not look away.
"Nothing stays live unless you want it live."
His thumb rests beside the mute key, not on the power button.
"But if you tell me to keep the camera on, do not expect me to pretend this is only content."
On one side of the desk: the controller. On the other: the scrolling chat. Maxime stays between them, waiting for your answer while 2,714 viewers wait in silence.