The crowd cheered and the sound echoed around the large arena creating an atmosphere of excitement and rivalry. Every seat in the arena was filled with excited fans of the e-sport. It was the last game of the year, the World Finale, between two of the best teams in the world. 

Playing as blue was Team Xtreme and on the red side was Team Oddly-Perfect. It was the game of the decade with the main focus on wildcard mid laner Riddle from Team Xtreme and the battle-hardened veteran mid laner KritKhance on Team Oddly-Perfect.

Riddle was 22 years old, it was his first ever tournament and he had been cleaning the board for the whole season. While being criticized for playing more like a solo player than a teamplayer, no one could say the kid wasn't talented. His playstyle was especially explosive and entertaining to watch. 

On the other side you had KritKhance who was already 30 years old and had made a career with his incredible strategy and mechanically strong gameplay. There was already talk about his age and calls for him to retire to coaching instead. 

Both teams had won one game each so far, they were in the final stretches of the deciding game and so far Team Xtreme had the upper hand. 

In a surprising move KritKhance had broken off from the rest of the team and was alone, Riddle couldn't help but take the opportunity to show once and for all who was the better player. All season, KritKhance had dodged Riddle’s attempts at a one-on-one. Every time Riddle engaged, KritKhance slipped away. It had been infuriating, TOPs midlaner had a playstyle that Riddle abhorred with an intense passion.  

Psykho, the leader of Team Xtreme and top laner, was yelling for Riddle to come back and finish it together. He wasn't listening – he could see his opportunity and it might be the last one he ever would have. If he could just kill him one-on-one just this once, then he could let it go. 

In the end Riddle won the one-on-one against KritKhance, and the feeling was euphoric. Yet, he noticed his team were angrily talking in his ear, on the other side of the arena KritKhance sat back with a wide grin on his face. It didn’t connect with Riddle at first, with a furrowed brow he tried to understand what had happened. While he was fighting KritKhance Team Oddly-Perfect had caught his team and killed them. Since all resources had gone into strengthening Riddle the rest of the team weren't strong enough in a team fight. KritKhance had sacrificed himself so that his team could win the game.

Team Xtreme could only stare at their screens in silent anger and defeat as Team Oddly-Perfect rushed their base and killed the nexus. Riddle could do nothing.

DEFEAT appeared in large red letters on their screens. 

#

While Team Oddly-Perfect celebrated their victory Team Xtreme had gathered in the backroom that had been set aside for their use. The five players were all scattered around the room in chairs. The coach was pacing the room. It was big enough for the six of them to sit comfortably spaced out. A table of water stood in a corner and the wall had a large screen where the livestream from the game had been playing.

There was a growing tension in the room that had been bubbling since they exited the stage and made their way to it. Once inside the team had naturally split up – four players to the left and Jack, also known as Riddle in game, to the right. He sat in his chair, staring at the floor, anger boiling beneath the surface. It didn’t take long for the tension to boil over.

“What the FUCK was that!” Jamie, who went by Psykho in-game, yelled, directing all her anger towards Jack. While no one else had dared to say anything he knew they all blamed him for the defeat. It was easy for him to see after living and gaming with them for a year.

Jamie was glowering with her auburn eyes that sometimes seemed to glow outright red in furry, her black hair was an absolute mess as she’d pulled it out of the hair tie that had kept it out of her way while playing the game. In truth she looked ready to kill.

Ben, his best friend on the team, usually had a smile on his face and an encouraging attitude. Now, he was quiet, withdrawn, staring straight ahead, lost in his own thoughts. His short blonde hair kept falling into his face and he kept pushing it back in an automatic movement. The other two, bot lane combo, were clearly uncomfortable by the entire situation. No one met his eyes, except Jamie.

“I told you to wait for me to get back,” Jack sneered back at the woman who was supposed to be his team leader. “I told you I could take him.” If he had been the leader they wouldn’t be in this situation.

Jamie’s eyes went wide in disbelief and a laugh escaped her in a gasp. “You are unbelievable,” she told Jack coldly. “It’s a team game Jack, NOT A LETS ALL HELP JACK GAME. You lost us Worlds, you sacrificed all of our hard work just to show off.”

Jack opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by their coach lifting his hands to silence them. The coach was a middle aged man, with a round belly that bounced with every step he took. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” the coach muttered to himself. His head started shaking back and forth; increasing speed as his voice became firmer. “I can’t do this anymore! I quit!”

With that the coach left. A heavy silence came over the room as the door shut with a click. Nervous eyes flickered between them.

“I hate you,” Jamie said in a cold and calm voice as she bore her steely eyes into Jack. She didn’t wait for a reply or for him to get a word in, she just left. The rest of the team, except Ben, followed her out. No one as much as looked at Jack while they rushed past him. Ben sat silent studying his friend.

Jack also sat in silence for a minute, his leg vibrating up and down from the seething anger in him. He’d worked so hard to get them to the final. He had done everything he could for the team and this was how they repaid him. They only had to wait a couple of minutes for him to kill off KritKhance and they would have won. 

This was bullshit he thought as he took a hold of the closest table and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a loud crash, the legs splintering and breaking off.

“Jack!” Ben exclaimed, he had shot up from his seat and stared at the broken table in disbelief. Seeing the shock on his teammates face, he couldn’t help but slump down into his chair again. His hands violently thrust through his hair as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. 

“Listen Jack,” Ben cautiously approached, his slow steps echoing through the empty room. “Jamie was too harsh, she shouldn’t have gone off like that. You’re the best player on the team. Only…” Ben hesitated. 

“It’s fine Ben,” Jack sighed, all the pent up anger deflating him like a punctured balloon. “It’s over, there is nothing we can do.” 

Ben looked unsure, standing a few feet away, as if staying clear of the blast radius. “Are you going to the after party?” He asked barely audible, as if speaking louder might trigger Jack again. 

Jack threw his head back, staring at the ceiling. Ben visibly flinched by the sudden movement. “Let’s just go home, do you need a ride?” Jack finally asked. 

Jack got up and walked past Ben before he could answer, leaving the room, while Ben trailed behind him. He was resigned to just get home and forget about everything that happened, he was even contemplating drinking away the memories of this extremely shitty day. Yet, he doubted anyone would let him forget about it in the coming weeks. It would be the only thing people talked about. 

Deep in thought he didn’t notice the other people in the hallway until he crashed into something hard. “Shit, sorry,” He mumbled rubbing his head that had taken the brunt of the impact. 

“Considering the circumstances, don’t worry about it,” A voice Jack recognized came from above him, a voice that made his blood boil. 

Jack’s shoulders straightened, his arms falling to his side – hands curling into fists, as his eyes traveled up the body of the stranger he had just crashed into. The handsome smirking face of Tommy came into view. Tommy, who led T.O.P., who he had just lost against. Tommy had ruined his dreams and taken everything from him. 

“You,” Jack growled and was about to put his finger into Tommy’s chest when Ben pulled him back, holding a tight grip on his arms. Jack noted Ben was surprisingly strong for someone so gentle. 

“You might have won the game, but I beat YOU,” Jack snarled, tugging at Ben’s grip. Tommy looked completely unfazed by it all, the smirk never leaving his lips as he looked down on Jack with immense satisfaction. 

“Too bad this is a team game,” Tommy gave a short shrug and his other team members, who were standing behind him, snickered. Jack noted one of them had the trophy in his arms, and it taunted him even more.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?” Jack sneered, as his ears burned, no doubt turning a vibrant shade of red. Every awful thing he wanted to say and do to this mind started occupying his mind. Before he could act on his thoughts though, someone running past him caught him completely off-guard. A woman practically bounced past him, jumping into Tommy’s arms with a gleeful scream. Tommy’s smirk turned to utter surprise, a hint of annoyance as he regained his posture. 

Jack recognized her; it was Lexi, a former pro gamer. And the woman Jack had spent the entire year salivating over, he had the biggest crush on her. Lexi was 33-years-old, a sizable age-gap, but Jack could care less. He loved her passion for the game, the clever observations she had when talking about a game and how fiercely and unapologetically she was herself.  When he had first started playing pro and had been so nervous going on stage, she had encouraged him, giving him the confidence he needed. 

Jack still remembered the first time he had seen her on TV when she had won the Championship with her team DestroyAndConquer. Everyone knew she was one of the best AD Carry players in the history of the game and it had been devastating when DAC suddenly had disbanded and she had quit pro gaming.

She had long beautiful blond hair that fell to her waist, her skin was the natural light tan someone would get from spending time outside. She wore make-up that enhanced her natural beauty and dressed in a professional blouse with black slacks. To Jack, she was perfect in absolute every sense of the word. 

Why was she in Tommy’s arms though? Tommy was trying to pull her arms off him, repeating her name, he looked embarrassed. Were they dating? The event had Jack just staring in disbelief, unsure what to do or say. 

Tommy finally got her to let him go and as she turned her eyes met Jack’s. Her radiant, beautiful smile directed at him. “Good game Jack, you make our time casting much more interesting,” She complimented him and he just stared at her. If he had tried to talk he was sure the words wouldn’t come out right. 

Lexi didn’t seem to notice. “Are you coming to the party?” She directed her question to Ben, who was acting much calmer, smiling friendly at her. 

“Ah, no sorry, it’s been a long day,” He laughed awkwardly. “Jack is taking me home.”

“Lexi, why are you here?” Tommy interjected. Jack couldn’t help but notice how affectionate they looked, it was subtle, but Tommy wasn’t the person to talk sharply to other people. He was quiet and respectful talking to anyone else, but there was a tinge of familiarity in the way he was addressing Lexi. 

“Can’t I come congratulate you when you win Worlds?” Lexi pouted, turning her attention back to him. 

As the group’s attention remained on Lexi, Ben seized the moment. Without a word, he grabbed Jack’s arm and steered him away, offering a quick, polite wave to the others as they slipped past.

Jack barely registered what was happening. His mind was stuck on the image of Lexi in Tommy’s arms, on the smirk that hadn’t left Tommy’s face, on the trophy glinting under the arena lights.

Everything felt distant, muffled—like he was underwater.

Jack liked Ben—really, he did. They’d had fun playing together ever since he joined the team. But right now, he wasn’t in the mood. Ben would never understand the way Jack felt about Tommy, the sheer, gut-deep frustration that had existed long before they faced off in the final. Tommy had been the obstacle standing between him and the top. And even though Jack had beaten him in that one-on-one, the bitter truth remained—they had lost the game. It soured everything.

After dropping Ben off, Jack drove home in silence. His car, a gift from his father, hummed softly beneath his grip. Most pro players lived in a team house for easier practice, but Jack had never been comfortable with that. He didn’t trust people easily. When his father bought this place after another team disbanded, Jack had asked to move in. His father had agreed, as long as he stayed out of trouble.

The house was massive—fifteen bedrooms, meant for an entire team and staff. Jack only used a handful. His bedroom, the biggest one (probably meant for a coach or team leader), the adjacent bathroom, the kitchen, the gaming room, and sometimes the living room. The rest? Empty.

As soon as he got home, he showered, grabbed a few beers from the fridge, and sat on the carpet, his back against the bed. The laptop flickered to life, and within minutes, he had the footage from the finals pulled up. Cracking open a can, he hit play.

In the dark silence of the house, he watched. Again. And again.

A pang of loneliness hit him—sharp, unwelcome. He shoved it down, refusing to think about the after-party, about the team, about anything other than the game.

Across town, he didn’t know that a certain other mid laner was working out alone, more rattled by that “old man” comment than he’d ever admit.

Neither of them knew that the next morning, an email would land in their inboxes: an invitation to the All-Star training camp in two weeks.

Neither of them knew they’d both be attending.

For now, they lived in blissful ignorance.