Untouched Pixel
Chapter 1: Pixels and Promises
Shyam preferred the quiet of anonymity over the roar of fame. Behind the curtain of the internet, under the alias PixelSkull, he built an empire. Not with his face or his name, but with motion—edits, visuals, music videos that made people feel like their souls had ears.
His real subscriber count? 750 million.
Visible subscriber count? A humble 694.
Only a few engineers at YouTube knew about the feature he had—something he'd earned for being one of the platform's earliest, most powerful, and most private creators. He had the ability to completely hide his fame, showing the world only what he allowed. And he allowed very little.
One night, while falling down the algorithm rabbit hole with a bag of chips and a badly behaving cat named "Lag," he found her.
Raitha.
A VTuber with a broken green screen, a soft voice, and a pixelated fox mask that glitched every two minutes. She was adorable, clumsy, and raw. But what really got him? Her voice when she sang. It was shaky, unpolished… but real.
And that was enough.
He clicked "subscribe" without blinking.
From then on, every stream was a ritual. Every cover song was background music for his edits. Her subscriber count barely brushed 5,000, but to him? She was already viral.
One day, she posted a tweet:
> "Looking for a free editor! Someone who loves music and chaos. Let's make something beautiful together."
Shyam grinned.
> "Hi. I'm PixelSkull. I'd love to edit your videos. No charge. Just a fan of your voice."
The reply came fast:
> "OMG?? YES. I've seen your AMV with 103 views, it was SO CUTE. Let's goooo!"
He almost choked on a Dorito.
So began the dream team.
They made magic together. Her voice, his visuals—it clicked. The first MV they dropped pulled 500 views. Then 1,000. Then 10,000.
By the end of the month, Raitha hit 50K subscribers.
> "You're my secret weapon," she messaged.
"Weapon?" he replied.
"Yeah! Like… the sparkly kind in anime that somehow always makes the villain explode."
He laughed. "You're weird."
> "You're not weird enough," she sent back, with a dancing cat gif.
Soon, late-night file sharing turned into long conversations. They talked about their favorite shows, their worst songs, their crushes (awkward silence there), and how editing was basically sorcery.
> "I still can't believe you're not famous," she once said.
"Maybe I'm just a ghost," he teased.
"Then I must be haunted," she winked.
Their chats were light, fun, and full of pixelated energy.
That is, until she appeared.
---
It was during a stream collab. Raitha introduced her with a giggle.
> "This chaotic gremlin next to me is Ayani, my little sister. Be warned. She bites."
Ayani leaned into the virtual mic, voice dripping sarcasm.
> "Only if the editor's cute."
Shyam, watching from his editing cave, blinked.
> "Did she just—?"
"Relax," Raitha typed to him. "She flirts with anything that breathes and owns a GPU."
Still, Ayani was... different.
She showed up during calls. Popped in during streams. Commented on the MVs he made. She called him "Pixie" and asked a million questions about effects and transitions.
> "So you're telling me you made that fire effect out of 3 layers and regret?"
"Basically, yeah."
"Hot."
She was unpredictable. Bold. Hilarious. A digital gremlin with a sharp tongue and a soft heart. And somewhere between layers and renders… Shyam found himself laughing more when Ayani was around.
Still, Raitha was the dream. The inspiration. The one he edited for.
And she kept growing. 100K. 500K. 1 million.
> "We're blowing up!" Raitha squealed.
"You're blowing up," Shyam corrected.
"You're my silent MVP, Pixie," she said. "Promise me we'll go to the top together?"
> "Promise," he typed, smiling.
He meant it.
But promises are funny things.
They don't come with refunds.