“Can I come in?”

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor when I heard the soft knock.

The door cracked open and Veronica peeked in, one hand on the frame. She was in the same oversized black hoodie she’d been wearing on Saturday morning, paired with loose track pants. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she looked tired but steady in a way I wasn’t feeling right now.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “Can I come in?”

I nodded.

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, then crossed the small room and sat down beside me on the bed without asking. Close enough that our thighs touched. She didn’t try to hug me or fill the silence right away. She just sat there with me for a minute, letting the weight of everything settle.

Eventually she spoke.

“So… I checked my numbers from Sunday night,” she said, voice calm. Almost matter-of-fact. “I made triple what I normally pull in tips. And the chat size basically doubled during the stream when people started talking about what happened on Saturday.”

I let out a short, humourless breath.

“Triple,” I repeated.

“Yeah.” She glanced at me sideways. “All from that one accidental stream. The one that wasn’t even supposed to be public.”

I rubbed a hand over my face. My mind was spinning in too many directions at once.

A few weeks ago, this kind of news would’ve sent me into a full meltdown. The job threat. The mates joking in the group chat like it was just another meme. The fact that someone at work had seen enough to report me. The sheer unfairness of it all. I would’ve spiralled hard — paced the room, snapped at anyone who tried to help, convinced myself the whole thing was proof I was destined to stay stuck grinding forever.

But sitting here next to her, feeling the steady warmth of her leg against mine, something in me stayed quiet. Her calm was contagious in a way I didn’t fully understand. She wasn’t panicking. She wasn’t even angry. She was just… here. Processing it with me.

I let out a slow breath and leaned back on my hands, staring at the ceiling.

“Triple the tips,” I said eventually, voice dry. “Chat doubled. All because forty-seven people accidentally watched us fuck on a Saturday morning.”

Veronica made a small sound that might’ve been a laugh if the situation had been less fucked.

“Apparently the algorithm loved it,” she said. “And a bunch of people who missed the original stream came in just to hear the gossip. Some of them tipped while they were there.”

I turned my head to look at her. She met my eyes without flinching.

“The luxury of being an attractive woman,” I said, deadpan. “You didn’t have that one on my list of side hustle ideas.”

A real laugh slipped out of her this time — soft and surprised. She bumped her shoulder gently against mine.

“Believe me, it’s not as simple as it looks,” she said. “But yeah. The numbers don’t lie. That one mistake made me more in a single stream than I usually make in a good week.”

I was quiet for a moment, turning it over in my head.

A few weeks ago I would’ve been bitter about it. Jealous, even. The idea that something that had nearly cost me my job had financially benefited her so much would’ve eaten at me. But right now, sitting next to her in my bedroom while the rest of my life felt like it was on fire, all I felt was a strange, exhausted sort of acceptance.

And underneath it, something warmer.

I reached over and rested my hand on her thigh, thumb stroking slowly through the fabric of her track pants.

“I’m glad it worked out for you,” I said honestly. “Even if it’s completely fucked for me right now.”

Veronica covered my hand with hers.

“We’ll figure out the fucked part,” she said quietly. “Together. Like we said.”

I didn’t answer right away. I just sat there with her, the weight of the last few days pressing down on both of us, and let myself feel how much her presence was keeping me from completely losing it.

A few weeks ago, I might have melted down.

Today, I was just tired.

And strangely grateful that she was here.