Chapter 3: Viral
When my team finally surrendered—probably as fried as I was—I just wanted to close the client and disappear into Netflix. But a new game invite flashed onto my screen, persistent and impossible to ignore.
Before I realized it, I clicked accept. The game loaded instantly—5v5 custom. Total setup.
I picked Ahri out of muscle memory, but my stomach dropped as the loading screen popped up: Kayla and Jamie, again.
Me: …
Was this some cosmic joke?
Game started, and they were on me like sharks. Every respawn, Kayla lobbed a fresh taunt in chat, pushing every button she could find.
Finally, I broke. I went AFK, hands trembling with frustration, and started typing:
“Yeah, yeah, keep screaming. What’s so great about riding someone else’s coattails to climb ranks? Don’t think you’re actually good.”
“You even have to bring your jungler bro to a custom game. If you’ve got guts, 1v1 me.”
“All this girl-on-girl drama, and you want people to hype you up? Are you even eighteen yet, kid?”
No sooner had I hit enter than I slammed the surrender button and snapped my laptop shut, not caring about the post-game stats. The glow from my laptop screen made my empty ramen cup look radioactive. For a second, I thought that was the end—just another rage-quit in a long week.
Next morning, Maya pinged me on Messenger with a video link:
“Wait, Riley, is this you? That’s totally your gamertag. Girl, what did you do?”
My stomach flipped. I didn’t even have to click play—I already knew it was bad. Still, I braced myself and watched.
Onscreen, a cute, girl-next-door type pouted in front of her pastel-lit gaming setup, phone in hand, acting all hard-done-by:
“I was just joking with her. Why did she go off on me? Even if I went a bit far, she didn’t have to blow up at me like that, right?”
She angled her phone at the webcam, my game ID filling the frame.
“She’s probably blocked me already. Everyone, help me apologize to her, okay? I really didn’t mean it, it was all for the stream.”
The video went viral—ten million views before lunch.
The internet did what it does best: swarmed.
“Is this lady so thin-skinned she can’t take a joke? Why’s she so mad over some banter?”
“Anyone who spits out filth like that must be trash. Why should we apologize to her?”
“She actually dared to go off on our Kay-Kay? She’s in trouble this time.”
“Guys, her friend’s online. Can’t blow up at her in-game anymore.”
“It’s fine, babies, I’ve already found her Twitter and TikTok. Let’s go get her.”