On a quiet Sunday afternoon, 19-year-old Vial Hosen sat in a dark room filled with the sound of rapid clicking.
Click click click.
The rhythmic taps of the keyboard echoed from his desk as he played intensely. But in the heat of the moment, his hand knocked over a glass of water he had placed too close to his mouse. It spilled across his keyboard.
"FUCKK!!!" Vial shouted, slamming his palm down as the screen froze. He kept hitting keys, but nothing worked.
[YOU DIED]
"I can't believe this shit. Now I need to buy a new keyboard," he groaned, rubbing his face. His voice was low and tired. He leaned back in his chair and covered his eyes with a sigh.
"There go my precious items... weeks of grinding, gone."
DING.
Just as he was wallowing in frustration, his apartment doorbell rang. Vial walked over and checked the peephole. It was his neighbor—the lady from the apartment next door—wearing a light green slip dress. He opened the door, trying to hide his annoyance.
"Hello, ma'am. Is something wrong?" he asked, scratching the back of his head with a faint smile.
"Uhm, could you please keep it down when you play? My baby is sleeping," she said politely.
"Ahh, sure. Sorry about that."
"Thanks, student," she replied with a smile, then turned and walked back toward her apartment.
She still looks great for her age, Vial thought briefly as her dress swayed with each step. He shook the thought away, sighed, and closed the door.
"Man, I really need to stop putting drinks near my mouse," he muttered, glancing back at his soaked keyboard.
He dropped onto the couch and pulled out his phone.
Buzz.
A message popped up from his friend Carl:
"I'm treating you guys to food and drinks and you show up late? Come already, you're the only one who hasn't arrived!"
"Right… I forgot I was supposed to meet up with them."
He quickly changed clothes and headed out.
The three of them eventually met at a bar. Aside from Carl, the one who messaged him, their other friend Zavi was already sitting at the table. Their friend group was small—just the three of them.
"This dude finally made up his mind to come, haha," Carl joked.
"Bet he wouldn't have remembered our plans if you hadn't texted him," Zavi added.
"I swear I would've come even if you guys didn't call me," Vial protested.
"Nah, we've known you for years, dude. Come and have a seat already."
"So, got a girlfriend yet?" Carl asked.
"Nah. Negative," Vial and Zavi said in unison.
"Ahahahaha—virgin bastards. You guys are about to enter university soon. Maybe you'll finally get some luck with girls there."
"That's if I even get in," Vial replied, silently thinking, Why the hell do I have to take some entrance exam just to get into a school?
"Aw man, it'd be nice if we could get into university like we did with high school."
"Or just not go at all," Zavi added.
Time passed quickly. The rest of the afternoon was filled with laughter, casual talk, and drinks. By the time evening fell, the bar had gotten quiet.
Hic...
"This bastard's out cold," Carl slurred, clearly drunk.
Vial sighed. "This is why I didn't want to come. You guys always drink too much."
He stood up and picked up the unconscious Zavi. Carl stumbled to the counter to pay.
Outside, Vial raised a hand to call a cab.
"Take care of this guy," Vial said as he handed Zavi over to Carl.
"No need to tell me. See ya, bro."
Vial watched them drive off, then turned and started walking home. The bar was only a few minutes from his apartment.
Once inside, he washed up, changed into casual clothes, and flopped onto his bed, his head full of thoughts.
"I need to start focusing on getting into university tomorrow," he told himself. Within minutes, exhausted, he drifted off to sleep.