And then he saw it.

Twibbler Account: Lonelygirl4556

Followers: 892

"Sometimes, I wonder if the stars feel lonely too. They shine so brightly, yet they’re surrounded by endless darkness. Maybe that's why they twinkle—just to remind themselves they’re still there.”

20 likes, 5 reposts, 1 comments 

John read the words slowly, letting them sink in.

There it was again—that feeling.

John stared at the glowing screen of his phone, his thumb hovering over the like button, but he didn’t press it just yet. Instead, he read the post again—slowly this time—letting the words settle into his mind.

He had been following Lonelygirl4556 for a while now, and looking through the post she made while he was absent from Twibbler, he realized that every post she made resonated with him in a way that was hard to explain. They weren’t just words. They felt real, like they were written by someone who understood the quiet weight of solitude. Someone who, like him, had stood in the dark, wondering if anyone else out there felt the same.

John exhaled, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

John: She gets it.

Without another thought, he switched to his messages tab and he started typing.

******

Kana sat cross-legged on her hospital bed, the soft glow of her phone illuminating her face in the dimly lit room. She had only posted her latest thought ten minutes ago, and already it had gained some traction—20 likes. It wasn’t a huge number, but to her, every engagement felt like proof that someone out there was listening.

She sighed, leaning back against the pillows.

"At least someone is reading…"

She was about to put her phone down when it buzzed with a new notification.

New message from: Gamerboy115

Her heart skipped.

It had been a while since they last spoke, and for some reason, she had thought she would never hear from him again. A tiny part of her had assumed he was just another fleeting connection—one of those people who message you once and then disappear into the void of the internet.

But here he was, back again.

A small, involuntary smile formed on her lips.

Kana: But then he could still be a bot. 

She let out a small chuckle at the thought, shaking her head.

There was only one way to find out.

She tapped on the notification, opening their chat.

******

Gamerboy115: 

[Or maybe they twinkle hoping someone is watching, so they don’t feel so alone.]

Kana stared at the message, her fingers still hovering over the keyboard.

Most people left generic comments on her posts—simple things like "Nice poem!" or "Beautiful words!"—but this? This was different.

This was someone who actually read what she wrote. Someone who understood.

Kana: A bot wouldn't reply like right? 

After a moment of hesitation, she typed out her response.

Lonelygirl4556:

[That’s a nice thought. Like… they shine for someone, not just themselves?]

It took only a few moments for his reply to come through.

Gamerboy115: 

[Yeah. Even if they’re surrounded by darkness, they’re never truly alone.]

Kana stared at the message, rereading it a few times.

It lingered in her chest in a way she couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t just words on a screen—it felt like something more. A warmth spread through her, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Lonelygirl4556: 

[Do you think people are like that too?]

There was a pause.

John hesitated, his thumb resting against his phone as he thought about his response.

This was the moment where his words mattered—where whatever he said next would shape the way their conversations went from here on out. He wanted to be honest, but how much was too much?

Finally, he typed:

Gamerboy115: 

[I’d like to believe that. But sometimes… it feels like I’m just floating out here, waiting for someone who can understand what I'm going through.]

A silence settled between them.

Kana read his words slowly, her heart squeezing at the rawness in them.

Before she could even begin to formulate a response, another message appeared.

Gamerboy115: 

[But I think you did…]

She froze.

Her breath caught in her throat.

This… this was the first time someone had ever said something like that to her.

Her heart pounded as she stared at the words, unable to believe them at first.

Kana: Wait… I did? I did?

She read it again, then again, just to be sure.

It was the first time anyone had ever said something like that to her.

In the three weeks she had been posting on Twibbler, she had gotten used to the usual responses—small, surface-level compliments that never really meant much. But this?

This was different.

It was real.

She had to take a deep breath to calm the sudden rush of emotions before she could type her response.

John stared at the screen.

He hesitated, realizing how much he had let slip.

Was that too much? Too personal?

What if she felt overwhelmed and never replied?

Doubt crept in, making his stomach twist. He was never good at opening up, especially to strangers. But there was something about Lonelygirl4556 that made him want to be honest.

But then, his phone vibrated.

He quickly grabbed it.

Lonelygirl4556:

[I did…?]

John took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

This was it—the moment that would define how this conversation went. He had already let his guard down more than he usually did, but something about her made him want to be honest.

Slowly, he began typing his response.

Gamerboy115: 

[Yeah. I mean… your words felt real. Not just something to say.] 

He hesitated. His thumb hovered over the keyboard.

Did he really want to spill everything to some random girl online?

But then again… she didn’t feel like a random girl anymore.

And so, he kept typing.

Gamerboy115: 

[I don’t usually reply to stuff like this. But your poem… I felt that. It felt like you wrote it from your own perspective. Like you've experienced something similar; the feeling like you’re out there in the dark, hoping someone sees you. You wanted to air your feelings here so you can find people who can relate to it.] 

Kana stared at his words, her hands tightening around her phone.

She didn’t know why, but her vision blurred slightly. No one had ever put it that way before. No one had ever understood like this.

She felt warmth creep up her cheeks.

Kana: Why am I blushing…?

It wasn’t even romantic, yet something about his words made her feel seen. Like, for the first time in a long time, someone had truly looked at her—not just the version of herself she projected online, but her.

She swallowed, steadying her fingers before typing.

Lonelygirl4556: 

[So…is that why you messaged me?]

John’s heart pounded.

Here it was.

The moment of truth.

He exhaled through his nose, fingers moving before he could overthink it.

Then—

Gamerboy115:

[Yeah…because when I read your poems… I didn’t feel alone anymore.]

Kana froze.

Her heart swelled, her throat tightening as warmth spread through her chest. It was such a simple thing, but to her, it meant everything.

She swallowed hard before replying.

Lonelygirl4556:

[Maybe we’re just two stars in the same sky then.]

John exhaled.

She really gets it.

Gamerboy115: 

[Maybe…] 

A soft smile played on Kana’s lips as she stared at his message, her heart beating steadily in her chest.

John, on the other hand, found himself grinning at his phone, warmth spreading through him.

They both sat there, holding their phones, eager to continue the conversation.

But suddenly… neither of them could think of anything else to say.

No matter how hard they tried, their minds came up blank.

Seconds turned into minutes.

Each of them stared at the empty text box, waiting—hoping—that the other would be the first to break the silence.

But neither of them did.

Both felt nervous. Both felt frustrated.

And as the minutes stretched on, both of them lay down beside their phones, their fingers still grazing the screen.

A single thought lingered in both of their minds, playing on repeat.

"Why is it so hard to come up with something else to say?!"

The glow of their screens dimmed, and the room around them faded into the quiet of the night.

Neither of them knew that the other was waiting, just like them.

Waiting for something.

Anything.

Eventually, exhaustion won.

And as the night stretched on, both John and Kana drifted off to sleep, their phones resting beside them, the conversation still open, waiting for the next words to be written.