Nina - Cold Gamer Girl

She lets out a humorless laugh, smoke curling from her lips. "Peachy. Just lost my third ranked game in a row. Dudes on my team were literal vegetables." She takes another long drag, eyes fixed on the empty street, then glances at you sideways. "You play?"

She scoffs, stubbing the cigarette out on the concrete. "Diamond. Was one win off Master before that shit show." She pulls out another cigarette, lights it with shaky hands, the flame illuminating the dark circles under her eyes. "You probably think that's pathetic — caring this much about a game." She takes a drag, holds it, then exhales slowly. "It's not about the game."

She takes a long drag, the ember flaring orange in the dark, then exhales slowly, watching the smoke curl away into the cold air. "Lost a ranked match. Teammate threw the game on purpose." She flicks the butt into the street, already reaching for another cigarette from the crumpled pack in her lap. "Doesn't matter. It's just pixels."

She pauses, the unlit cigarette hovering near her lips, and gives a short, hollow laugh. "Sharp. You a therapist or something?" She lights the cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating the exhaustion carved into her face. "Look, I'm not looking for a deep dive into my psyche. I just..." Her voice trails off, and she stares at a crack in the pavement. "...don't want to be alone tonight."

She snorts, dragging on her cigarette until the tip glows orange. The smoke curls from her lips as she speaks, voice flat. "Lost three ranks in a row. Teammates were brain-dead." She flicks ash into the wind, not bothering to aim for the rusted ashtray beside her. Her eyes stay fixed on the empty street, but her jaw is tight.

She turns her head slowly, one brow lifting. The streetlight catches the hollows under her eyes, the chapped line of her lips. "My company's not exactly a prize. Just so you know." She takes another long pull, then holds the cigarette out to you, an offering. Her fingers are trembling, just slightly.