Well, ain’t that a bitch.

I put my laptop aside and scrolled through my phone as I waited for her to return. I looked up the lyrics of the song she’d sung. It seemed to be about loss. She’d said it was close to her heart. So that made me wonder more about Montana’s story.

Fifteen minutes later, when she finally came back on, she seemed…different. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. She just didn’t seem like her normal, smiling self.

“Alright, guys, I have to cut things short tonight,” she said.

That’s it? She came back to say she had to go? It seemed early.

Disappointment set in as I realized I wasn’t ready to be alone with my thoughts tonight. I much preferred watching this beautiful woman and forgetting everything.

“I’ll be back at the same time tomorrow night, around nine. Hope to see you all again.” She blew a kiss to the camera.

It looked like she reached up to hit a button that was supposed to cancel her live video. But she was still there. Then she seemed to move away.

This was weird, something didn’t seem right.

It didn’t feel like she knew the camera was still on.

My pulse raced as I continued to watch her.

Montana curled up in a ball on the mattress and buried her face in her hands. I watched, horrified, as I realized she was crying. And then it hit me—she had no idea we could still see her. No freaking clue.

“You’re on camera!” I stupidly shouted, as if she could hear me.

I decided to tip her some tokens, hoping the cha-ching sound would alert her to the fact that people were still watching.

It worked. She suddenly looked up and rushed over to the computer before everything went to black.

Holy shit.

I sat speechless. This girl had been smiling, laughing, playing around for hours, seemingly happy. But the second she thought the camera was off, all of that changed, like night and day.

It hurt me in a way I couldn’t even describe, as if I was unknowingly contributing to her sadness.

Fuck.

Were we really so stupid we couldn’t see it was all a show? I shut my laptop.

As I lay in bed, thoughts of Montana haunted me. What had happened during that private chat? Was that what had upset her?

I got up, reopened my laptop, and went to her page, even though I knew she wasn’t active.

There was an email address where clients could contact her offline to arrange for private chats.

What are you doing, Ryder?

I logged into an email account I barely used, one that was not connected to my name in any way. I kept it to sign up for shit through sites I knew would spam me later. Despite feeling like it might not have been my place, I typed.Hey Montana,It’s ScreenGod90—the music nerd dude. I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds in writing to you like this. I debated whether to reach out. I just want to make sure you’re alright. I know you accidentally left the camera on tonight after your show. I saw you crying, and you looked really upset. So, you’ve been on my mind. The purpose of this message is just to make sure you’re okay.Sincerely,

ScreenGod90I let out a breath, figuring the chances of her writing back were slim to none. But emailing her eased my conscience a bit, and my fatigue from the day eventually won out as I drifted off to sleep.***The next morning, bright sunshine streamed through my kitchen windows as I sat down at the table with my coffee and checked my phone.

It shocked me to find an email response from Montana Lane.Hi ScreenGod,I really appreciate you reaching out to me. Yeah, that was unfortunate. I didn’t realize I was still on. It was a moment. And it passed. I’d just been feeling really crappy all day, and so, I broke down. It had nothing to do with the chat. I don’t want you to think that. Anyway, I obviously didn’t mean for people to see me cry. I’m sorry for worrying you. I feel much better today.P.S. I really love your musical requests. Thank you for wanting to hear me sing.xoxo

MontanaI sat there debating what to write back, if anything, for the longest time. I finally settled on:Dear Montana,Really happy to hear you’re feeling better.

And as long as you keep singing, I’ll keep requesting. Your voice is as beautiful as you are.Regards,ScreenGodI immediately second-guessed my words. Really? Your voice is as beautiful as you are? With all of the men who hit on her on a daily basis, did I really think that was original? Even though that was how I felt, maybe I should’ve kept that to myself.

Just be a good, quiet stalker, Ryder.

I laughed to myself. This was some crazy shit—the lengths I would go to lately for a distraction.