The Bad Hair Stream Protocol

Maya stared at her reflection, scissors hovering near her bangs. One tiny trim. That's all it would take to fix the uneven mess she'd created ten minutes ago.

Her phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. Twitch notification: @RetroGamer94 is live!

"No, no, NO." Maya dropped the scissors. She was supposed to be on his stream in forty-five minutes. Their first collab. First time meeting her online bestie IRL, even if it was just through screens.

The bangs were a disaster. Crooked. Jagged. She looked like she'd cut them in the dark.

"MAYA!" Her little brother's voice carried from downstairs. "The internet's down again! The cable company says two hours!"

Maya's stomach dropped. No internet meant no stream. No collab. No meeting the friend she'd been gaming with for three years but never video called because—well, because she was always this anxious about everything.

She grabbed her phone, heading outside. Maybe the neighbor's WiFi? But no. She stood on her front porch, weird bangs and all, and did something she never did.

She called RetroGamer94.

"Hello? Maya?" His voice was crackly but real. Not through Discord. Through an actual phone line like it was 2005.

"My internet's dead," she blurted out. "I can't stream. I look ridiculous. I cut my own hair like an idiot."

Silence. Then laughter. Not mean laughter. Real laughter.

"Dude, I once dyed my hair pink the night before my first tournament. It turned salmon. My team called me Salmon Boy for MONTHS."

Maya smiled. "Really?"

"Really. Your bangs can't be that bad. Send me a pic."

She did. He responded with a photo of himself at thirteen, salmon hair and braces.

They talked for two hours. About everything. About why she'd never wanted to video chat. About how his real name was Chris and he lived three towns over.

"Hey," he said when they finally said goodbye. "Maybe the cable going down was good luck. We would've just played Minecraft."

"Yeah," Maya touched her uneven bangs. "Maybe."

Her phone buzzed again. Internet restored.

Stream tonight? he texted.

Definitely, she wrote back. And maybe next time, we don't wait three years to meet.

Her reflection still had crooked bangs. But somehow, they didn't look so bad anymore.