And then,
there he sat.
August 2020.
...
He still hadn't processed everything that happened in the year before,
because he didn't believe in fairy tales.
Still, a list of "facts" had been hard-wired into his brain:
you are famous,
you are rich,
you are popular,
people love you,
and you are happy.
His computer screen and his friends kept telling him that the first four were true,
but he still wasn't sure about the last one.
He scratched his nose.
No time to question that right now.
Maybe
tomorrow.
...
Right, right.
It's August 2020. Real day. Real life. Calm down, Clayton.
He sat on his chair and tried to slow his breathing.
The world outside those two short windows was also breathing.
It had been a chilly, windy day, but now it was sunny-ish,
and some gray light found its way into the basement.
He didn't notice.
Words trickled from his headphones
and soaked straight into the sponge of his brain
but the basement was silent.
He tried not to look at his monitor.
Okay, Clayton, calm down. It's no big deal. No big deal. Breathe.
...
He wasn't sure if any time at all had passed since... whatever happened last.
He looked back at his monitor.
Mr. Beast, that other famous YouTuber, was still talking.
Occasionally, somebody would shout something about a duel
and "who's gonna win?"
and it was just too loud for Clayton.
He wasn't sure if his breathing had slowed down.
He gripped the armrests.
...
When the headphones wanted to know if he was ready,
he shouted back a yes.
"Yeahhhh",
breathed his opponent.
The basement was still silent.
Except for that fast, shaky breathing.
Very shaky.
...
At the time,
Clayton did not know that he would spend the rest of the day muttering to himself,
his brain trapped in a bubble of disappointment.
For now,
his mind contained only adrenaline as he stared at the screen
and his headphones made a familiar beep.
And then the screen showed
5.
And now 4.
And now 3...
The wind whistled outside his window.
Breathe, Clayton, breathe.