"YOU FUCKING SON OF A WHORE! EVEN YOUR MAMA DIDN'T CRY THIS HARD WHEN I WAS CLAPPING HER CHEEKS!" Lloyd screamed into his mic, his voice dripping with venom as his opponent tried to talk trash after losing the game.
[YOU CHEATING BASTARD! USING ESP TO WIN BUT CAN'T HIDE IT, JUST LIKE YOUR DAD TRYING TO HIDE THE FACT THAT HE CAN'T GET IT UP WITHOUT VIAGRA!] a shrill voice shouted back through Lloyd's headset, countering his insult with one of their own.
"YEAH, I'M A CHEATING BASTARD, ALRIGHT, BUT AT LEAST I CHEATED TO SATISFY YOUR MOM—UNLIKE YOUR DAD, WHO CAN'T EVEN FINISH THE JOB BEFORE HE RUNS OFF TO 'GET MILK'!" Lloyd shot back without missing a beat, his voice almost cracking with how loud he yelled.
"YOU GUYS HAVE ZERO SKILLS! ALL YOU DO IS CHALLENGE ME, THEN CRY WHEN YOU LOSE—LIKE I'M YOUR ABUSIVE STEP-DAD! OH, WAIT! NEVER MIND, THAT'S RIGHT, I AM YOUR STEPDAD!" He added with a mocking laugh, his tone filled with derision.
This exchange, as shocking and absurd as it might seem to an outsider, was actually one of their tamer interactions during a heated gaming session. It was just another night on Counter-Strike, where Lloyd logged in religiously after dinner. For him, it was more of an "appetizer" than entertainment—a ritual, albeit one that often left him in a foul mood. Rather than relieving stress, the game became a catalyst for him to unleash the wildest and most imaginative insults he could muster. And yet, no matter how toxic it got or how many times he told himself to stop playing, he couldn't pull away from its addictive grip.
---
After hours of trash-talking and grinding through matches, Lloyd finally let out a heavy sigh and powered down his PC. He set his headset on the desk, rubbing his temples as the clock ticked past three in the morning. The only reason he could stay up this late every night was thanks to an alarming amount of caffeine coursing through his veins. Energy drinks and coffee had become his lifeline, allowing him to push through with barely five hours of sleep each day.
The consequences of his lifestyle were etched into his face. His dark circles were massive—so big, in fact, that if compared to KSI's forehead, they might even win the contest. Lloyd wasn't morbidly obese, but he was definitely overweight. His once active and social self had gradually transformed into a shut-in, someone who sought solace in the glow of his computer screen.
The root of his current state was heartbreak. Ever since his girlfriend had dumped him, Lloyd hadn't been able to move past the sadness that enveloped him. Before the breakup, he was, by all accounts, a regular guy. He wasn't model material, but he wasn't bad-looking either—just your average, an unremarkable college student with decent social skills. He wasn't the type to be called a creep, and he had a solid circle of friends to hang out with.
But after she left, everything spiralled out of control. What started as a coping mechanism—a way to distract himself from the pain—slowly turned into an unhealthy addiction. Nights spent gaming became his escape from reality, a way to drown out the loneliness gnawing at him.
And yet, in the back of his mind, Lloyd knew this wasn't sustainable. He couldn't keep living like this forever.
After the breakup, Lloyd was overwhelmed with grief. For the first few days, he refused to believe it had actually happened. She had left him for something as trivial as claiming she was "bored." Those words echoed in his mind, stabbing at his pride and self-worth. He couldn't comprehend how someone he cared so much for could discard him so casually. In his shock and despair, Lloyd locked himself in his room, refusing to eat or speak to anyone who came by to console him. Friends knocked on his door, family tried to pull him out of his shell, but their efforts were met with silence. He internalized the pain, beating himself up over what had happened and blaming himself entirely.
But the truth was, Lloyd hadn't been a bad boyfriend. He wasn't neglectful, unfaithful, or cruel. The harsh reality was that his ex-girlfriend, Rhea, had been selfish and a bitch. She was the kind of person who sought excitement but had no patience for the ebbs and flows of a genuine relationship. Yet, Lloyd couldn't see that at the time. All he saw was his own supposed inadequacy, a failure he replayed in his head on an endless loop.
A month passed, but the pain lingered like an open wound. As the weight of his heartbreak bore down on him, Lloyd turned to gaming as a distraction—a temporary reprieve from his misery. What started as a coping mechanism quickly spiraled into an obsession. Gaming became his entire life, consuming every free moment he had outside of college. It was easier to lose himself in a digital world than face the reality of his own loneliness.
As a result, Lloyd began neglecting everything and everyone around him. Friendships that had once been a source of joy began to crumble. His close circle of friends dwindled until only a few people were left trying to pull him out of the abyss. But even those who reached out were ignored. Lloyd pushed them away, consumed by his grief and self-pity, until he was utterly alone. He had devolved into a shut-in—a NEET whose life revolved around the flicker of his computer screen.
"Fuck this shit! I've gotten fucking fat… I'm turning into a pig!" he cursed one night, staring at his reflection in the darkened window beside his desk.
Every now and then, moments of clarity hit him like a freight train. He would realize what he'd become and swear to change, filled with a sudden, fiery determination to take control of his life again. But the motivation never lasted. It would burn brightly for an hour—maybe two—before fading into nothingness, swallowed by exhaustion or the monotony of his routine.
"Fuck! Everything's down the fucking drain! What have I even become? That bitch Rhea left me, and now I've turned into this… into a goddamn pig! Fuck no!"
Tonight, as the clock ticked past 3 a.m., the usual fire of anger and self-loathing was more intense than ever. The image of Rhea flashed in his mind, unbidden, and it stoked a new wave of frustration and regret. He clenched his fists, glaring at the screen, but no amount of rage could mask the emptiness he felt inside.
"Fucking seriously… what have I become? I have no friends, no bitches, and no body worth looking at. I'm just a dirty, useless pig…" His voice cracked, and he wiped his face roughly, though the tears kept coming.
For the first time, Lloyd didn't just feel anger—he felt regret. A tear rolled down his cheek as the realization struck him: this wasn't just Rhea's fault.
For so long, he had blamed Rhea for everything. She had left him, and her departure had been the catalyst for his descent into misery. But tonight, for the first time, Lloyd saw the truth. It wasn't her actions alone that had led him here—it was his own. His choices, his refusal to confront the pain head-on, his abandonment of the people who cared about him… all of it had shaped the pathetic person he saw staring back at him.
And for the first time, Lloyd felt something new. Not anger. Not grief. Just the crushing weight of accountability.
*****
Umm... New Book! Which I hope I will complete before August! Also to readers... I would suggest you not keep expectations so that anything good or bad that happens would be beyond your expectations!