Saturday, March 22nd, 2025
Time: 4:00 PM
Soren Wolfe stared blankly at his computer screen. YouTube's algorithm had pulled him down another rabbit hole, one that began innocently enough with a search for UCAT study tips but had somehow devolved into a slew of pointless comedy sketches and reaction videos. His eyes felt dry, his back stiff from sitting hunched over for hours.
The corner of his screen displayed the time: 4:00 PM. Saturday was slipping away, and so was his chance to make any meaningful progress. Panic bubbled beneath the surface, a familiar sensation of dread and disgust. Yet, as always, it mingled with the inertia that kept him glued to his chair.
He'd done nothing all day. And he knew he couldn't afford to waste any more time. Exams were only days away, beginning Friday of Week 9 and ending Friday of Week 10. His list of tasks swarmed his mind, each one taunting him with the weight of its importance:
Five advanced maths subchapters to complete.
A literature essay to write.
Two hours of external work.
Refining a chemistry assignment.
Finalizing a biology project.
Specialist maths, the subject he was massively behind in, looming over him like a nightmare.
He had meant to start early that morning, to drag himself out of bed and make the day count. But he hadn't. He'd allowed himself to fall back into his old habits—habits he knew were dragging him down. It was always the same story. Promises made in the late hours of the night, broken by the lethargy of the morning.
He rubbed his eyes, his fingers pressing into the dark circles beneath them. Frustration brewed within him, simmering into something dangerously close to self-hatred. And yet, there was a strange sense of resignation. A whisper that told him this was just who he was: weak, undisciplined, destined to fail.
But he refused to accept that.
His clenched fist trembled. It wasn't just anger at himself—it was an intense, maddening desire to prove himself wrong. To break the cycle of failure and stagnation.
He couldn't count the number of times he'd read self-help books, watched motivational speeches, and crafted meticulous plans for improvement. But all of it had been wasted. He had never followed through. Not truly. Not with the unwavering discipline he admired so much in others. Characters like Pietro from Killer Pietro, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka from Classroom of the Elite, and Cassian Lee from Villain to Kill—people who embodied strength, cunning, and an ironclad will. People he wanted to be like.
But the difference between them and him was that they took action. They didn't let their weaknesses control them.
He couldn't even look at himself in the mirror without feeling disgusted. His skin was pale and unhealthy, cheeks slightly puffy from the bits of face fat he couldn't seem to shake. His acne marred his complexion, a painful reminder of his poor diet and hygiene. His teeth, yellowed from neglect, only amplified the feeling of inadequacy.
Soren glanced at the workout gear he'd bought months ago. The training dummy he had ordered online still stood in the corner of his room, gathering dust instead of bruises. He had fantasized about learning martial arts—about becoming strong and capable like the heroes he admired. But without a proper gym nearby, he had never truly committed to it.
His body was weak. At 5'8" and only 60 kilograms, he was all skin and bones. His muscles barely existed, and his diet of bread, dairy, and fruits left him malnourished and feeling even weaker than he already was. He couldn't even eat like a normal person, his picky habits leaving him deficient and fragile.
But the final, crushing blow was the knowledge that today had been another wasted day. Yet another in a long line of failures.
His stomach twisted at the thought. No. Not again. Not anymore.
With a surge of determination, Soren closed the YouTube tab. His finger hovered over the shutdown button, but he hesitated. Instead, he pulled up a blank document and typed out a plan. It wasn't the first plan he'd made, but it would be different this time. It had to be.
Today's Goals:
Complete advanced maths subchapters.
Plan the literature essay.
Begin refining the chemistry assignment.
Research martial arts techniques he could practice alone against the dummy.
He stared at the list, his eyes hardening. The weight of his ambitions felt impossibly heavy, but it was a weight he would carry. It was time to prove himself wrong.
He had a lot of work to do. And the only way forward was through the pain.