Chapter Text
“The sunset is beautiful today,” Scar said, his voice soft with appreciation as he leaned back slightly in his chair. On his screen, the pixelated sun dipped slowly toward the horizon, spilling warm shades of orange and gold across the sky. Even in a blocky world, the colors blended in a way that felt almost real, almost peaceful, like the server itself was pausing to breathe.
“Any sunset is beautiful on Hermitcraft,” Impulse replied, pausing the steady rhythm of his mining to glance upward. For a moment, the usual chaos of the server quieted, replaced by the soft ambiance of a world winding down.
“And rare,” Grian added, his tone edged with amusement. “Bdubs won’t ever let a real sunset happen.”
As if summoned by the comment itself, a message popped into chat.
BdoubleO100 joined the game.
“Aw, Scar, you jinxed it!” Skizz laughed, and right on cue, the sky snapped from a warm gradient of sunset colors back to a bright, artificial blue. The transition was instant, almost jarring, but Scar only laughed, completely unbothered by the sudden change.
“Worth it,” he said, grinning as he leaned forward again. The moment passed quickly, folding back into the comfortable rhythm of the stream. The four of them, Scar, Impulse, Skizz, and Grian, were spread across the massive crater they’d been mining out for Scar’s next project. It wasn’t glamorous work, but there was something satisfying about the steady progress, about watching the terrain slowly reshape itself under their effort.
Scar glanced over at his second monitor, reading donations and responding to chat as messages flew by faster than he could fully keep up with. It was his first stream of the year, and everything felt light, easy, even. There had been surprisingly few deaths so far, which in itself felt like a minor miracle given the group he was with.
He turned his head for just a moment to read another message, and when he looked back a creeper filled his screen. Bright green. Hissing. And behind it, unmistakable, was Grian.
Scar barely had time to react before the explosion went off. “Oh!” he yelped, the sound sharp with surprise before immediately dissolving into laughter as the death screen appeared. His chat erupted instantly, messages flooding in faster than ever.
“OMG desert duo,” one message read.
“THIRD LIFE deja vu,” another followed.
Scar shook his head, still laughing as he clicked respawn. “You absolute menace,” he muttered, grabbing a spare elytra and launching himself back toward the crater. The familiar rush of flight steadied him, and as he approached, he could already hear Grian’s laughter echoing through comms, loud, unashamed, and entirely pleased with himself.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Scar said as he landed, though the smile hadn’t left his face. His items had already been collected and neatly stored in a chest, and he quickly geared back up, slipping into his armor with practiced ease.
“My chat is spamming desert duo now,” he added, shaking his head as he resumed mining. “This is entirely your fault, G.”
“It’s literally two words, Scar,” Grian replied, his tone light as he continued breaking stone like nothing had happened. “You’ll survive.”
Scar rolled his eyes, though there was no real irritation behind it, just a quiet promise of eventual payback. For now, though, he focused on the task at hand, the steady rhythm of mining filling the space between them. After a while, his phone buzzed softly beside him, the timer he’d set earlier finally going off.
“Alright, I’m gonna wrap up stream here,” Scar said, muting briefly to give his viewers a proper goodbye. He thanked them, lingering just a moment longer before ending the stream completely. The shift was subtle but noticeable, the background hum of chat gone, leaving only the game and the quiet presence of the others.
Impulse and Skizz soon peeled off to work on their own projects, their voices fading from comms until it was just Scar and Grian left in the crater. Scar looked around at their progress, or lack thereof, and let out a small, amused huff.
“We got sinifically- signifally- a lot less done than I thought we would,” he admitted, his words only a little jumbled as he stood, surveying the uneven edges of the hole they’d been working on.
“To be fair,” Grian said, “Impulse was the only one actually working. Skizz was dying every two seconds, and you were busy talking to your chat.”
Scar laughed softly. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair.”
He was about to add something else when his phone chimed again, quieter this time but enough to catch both of their attention.
“What was that?” Grian asked, his mining slowing.
“Oh, nothing,” Scar said, though he was already reaching for it. He unlocked the screen, and the reminder stared back at him.
Book UK tickets.
“…just a reminder for me to book tickets to the UK,” he finished.
There was a brief pause before Grian spoke again, his tone shifting slightly. “To the UK? Since when are you coming here? And why haven’t I heard about this?”
Scar hesitated, scrolling through his phone as he searched for available places to stay. “I was planning to go to a convention,” he said, his voice more uncertain now. “But… I don’t know if I can anymore.”
“Why not?” Grian’s voice was quieter, more focused, even as he kept mining.
“There’s nowhere for me to stay,” Scar admitted. “I meant to book something earlier, but time kind of got away from me. And now everything’s either full or way too expensive.”
A spider dropped into the crater nearby, and Scar dealt with it quickly, the brief interruption filling the silence that followed. When it ended, Grian hadn’t responded yet, and Scar found himself glancing over, a small flicker of uncertainty creeping in.
Then Grian spoke again.
“You know… if you can’t find a place,” he said, pausing slightly, “you could just stay at mine.”
He added, almost as an afterthought, “My cats might pee on your luggage, though.”
Scar blinked, the words settling in slowly. Stay at Grian’s house. Not a hotel, not a rented space, his house. The idea sent a sudden spark of excitement through him, but it came tangled with something else, something quieter and harder to name. Nerves, maybe. Hesitation.
There was that saying, never meet your heroes. And sure, Grian wasn’t exactly that, but still… what if it changed things? What if it made everything awkward? Still, the answer came easily.
“That would be great,” Scar said.
Grian didn’t make a big deal out of it. “Cool,” he replied simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Scar let out a small breath, already pulling up the airline app. Maybe it was normal. Maybe it didn’t have to be anything more complicated than that. His fingers moved quickly now, tapping through the booking process until the confirmation screen appeared.
April 20, 10:00 AM.
Three weeks.
Scar stared at the date for a moment, the reality of it settling in. Three weeks until the flight, until the trip, until he’d be standing in an entirely different country.
The convention had been the original reason.
But now, as he leaned back in his chair, a small smile forming, he knew that wasn’t what he was looking forward to anymore.