"When name and reality are brought into alignment, the more you value substance, the less you value fame."
She is a sexy livestreamer. He is a fallen rich man. She hides her insecurity behind a facade, while he gives voice to his hatred through his loneliness. They are drawn to each other for the same reason: they have both come together out of disgust with the world. But there are no true hermits in this world, only eternal prisons. No matter how we withdraw from the world or flee reality, reality affects us at every moment.
By the time she understood this, she was already dead. Yet the world gave her a real body, and she was breathtakingly beautiful without needing any adornment.
He died too, but in the delusion of his deep hatred for the world, he was so empty, so lonely, that not even the faintest real weight remained in his heart. He had not even a name left.
The story is bizarre, and the writing is immature and awkward. I wrote it purely for practice. Perhaps only pity could persuade someone to finish reading it.
