mangotimer
fake gamers are beta males
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Lars adjusted his tie in the mirror of his Stockholm apartment, checking the time on his phone. Elin was usually back from her walks along Södermalm by now, but the past few weeks had shifted her schedule in ways he couldn't quite map out.
When the apartment door clicked open, Lars smiled, walking out to greet her. "Hey. I made some coffee. How was—"
Elin wasn't alone. Standing beside her in the entryway was a guy in an oversized hoodie, holding a canvas tote bag.
"Lars, we need to talk," Elin said, her voice quiet but resolute. She didn't drop her keys into the dish by the door like she always did. Instead, she kept them in her hand. "I’m moving out."
Lars froze, the warmth of the moment evaporating instantly. "What? Elin, what are you talking about? Moving out where?"
"With Viktor," she said, gesturing to the guy beside her.
Lars looked at Viktor, whose attention was currently fixated on a notification on his phone. "Who is Viktor? Is this a colleague from work?"
"No," Elin said simply. "He's a gamer."
"A... what?" Lars blinked, waiting for the rest of the explanation, or a punchline, or a reason that made sense. "Elin, we've been together for three years. We bought a sofa together last month. You're leaving for a guy you just introduced as a gamer?"
"He understands me, Lars," she said, taking Viktor by the arm. Viktor tapped his screen one last time, tucked the phone into his pocket, and gave Lars a brief, polite nod.
"I've already packed my main bags," Elin continued, picking up a duffel by the door that Lars hadn't noticed when she came in. "Viktor's cab is waiting downstairs."
Lars stood paralyzed in the hallway, watching the quiet precision of it all. Elin set her apartment key on the hall table, took a step back, and reached for Viktor's hand.
"I'm sorry, Lars," she said.
Before Lars could form another sentence, the door closed with a soft click, leaving him alone in the quiet apartment with two cups of cooling coffee.
When the apartment door clicked open, Lars smiled, walking out to greet her. "Hey. I made some coffee. How was—"
Elin wasn't alone. Standing beside her in the entryway was a guy in an oversized hoodie, holding a canvas tote bag.
"Lars, we need to talk," Elin said, her voice quiet but resolute. She didn't drop her keys into the dish by the door like she always did. Instead, she kept them in her hand. "I’m moving out."
Lars froze, the warmth of the moment evaporating instantly. "What? Elin, what are you talking about? Moving out where?"
"With Viktor," she said, gesturing to the guy beside her.
Lars looked at Viktor, whose attention was currently fixated on a notification on his phone. "Who is Viktor? Is this a colleague from work?"
"No," Elin said simply. "He's a gamer."
"A... what?" Lars blinked, waiting for the rest of the explanation, or a punchline, or a reason that made sense. "Elin, we've been together for three years. We bought a sofa together last month. You're leaving for a guy you just introduced as a gamer?"
"He understands me, Lars," she said, taking Viktor by the arm. Viktor tapped his screen one last time, tucked the phone into his pocket, and gave Lars a brief, polite nod.
"I've already packed my main bags," Elin continued, picking up a duffel by the door that Lars hadn't noticed when she came in. "Viktor's cab is waiting downstairs."
Lars stood paralyzed in the hallway, watching the quiet precision of it all. Elin set her apartment key on the hall table, took a step back, and reached for Viktor's hand.
"I'm sorry, Lars," she said.
Before Lars could form another sentence, the door closed with a soft click, leaving him alone in the quiet apartment with two cups of cooling coffee.
