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A man sits alone in his room, the neon light of his computer screen shrinking his eyes back into his sockets. The clock reads 02:00, but time can be misleading. He stares at the computer screen, eyes fixed. For him it is the only world he ever knew. Friends that were little more than words on a screen. Few he had met in real life. Most were just randoms who had drifted onto his page. He took a drink and waited for the next message to arrive, to tell him more about a life he could never lead. He apparently had 258 friends. He cared for only a few. Yet he longed for companionship, someone to talk to, to burden the weight of life. Here he could hear about other people's stories, their adventures through the world. In a few hours he would have to leave for work, sleep deprived so he didn't have to pay attention. A routine so dull that he preformed it in his sleep. An empty life, a hollow shell that could see the strings, but never fought back. Other people fought back though, and were having marvellous adventures. Sarah was going to move in with her boyfriend. Michael was posting his new piece of fan fiction online. And like a true friend the man would read, but was careful not to reveal his true opinion, less he were to lose another friend. People seemed to want to talk to him less nowadays. Oh he put the 'lols' in the right places, and even branched out to 'roflols'. But they were empty laughs, devoid of any happiness. While the computer laughed he just stared, waiting for the next response. Every few weeks someone new would find him, and chat with him. But he would make a critical error, and cut off all ties. Slowly he rotated through his roster of friends, making sure there was always someone to talk to. There was no one online now. The page was empty. He sat, waiting. Surely someone would come on eventually. He was in no rush. Then he'd be able to hear more of Polly's crush, or of Ben's dreams to be famous. Until then he would wait. He had all the time in the world.