Three teenagers jeered from their car as I sprinted across the street to the college gym.

That took me back.

"Oh my god, ew. Your face looks like lasagna. Get your gross pimply face away from me."

It was always the same. Every day, the bullies would taunt and jeer at me as I walked home from school, my backpack heavy on my shoulders.

I tried to ignore them, to block out their cruel words and laughter, but it was hard. They seemed to find joy in my pain, in my misery.

"Kim Jong Un!" they shouted. "Go back to China!"

It got better when I went off to the magnet school system. Rather, everyone around me was too tired to care. But the memories never left me.

That's why I had turned to gaming. A VRMMO to be precise — Crystal Harmony Online. It was a way for me to escape, to be someone else, to be a hero. In virtual worlds, I didn't have to worry about my weight, my looks, or my race. I could be whoever I wanted to be.

And that's how I met Bob.

He was a fellow gamer who lived in London, and we had bonded over our shared love of strategy games and pizza. He didn't care about my appearance or my background. He saw me for who I was, and he accepted me. Bob was a couple of years older than me, and he was the brother I never had.

We had formed the <Pizza Parlor> guild together, and it had become a second family for me. We had laughed, cried, and fought together, and I had never felt more alive.

They'd saved my life.

As it turned out, I loved people.

People had just never given me a chance.

But with Bob and my guildmates, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. And even though Bob was gone, the love and support of my guildmates remained.

I stepped into the gym, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as I started my workout. It was a way to clear my mind, to focus on something other than the memories of my past.

I'd always struggled with my weight.

I had been at a healthy weight for only a couple of months in my life; when I'd taken up Judo before getting into college at NYU. Being able to breathe properly without all that pressure on my organs was wonderful, but getting in shape was harder than anything I'd ever done.

Of course, I'd gained it all back in the months leading up to Bob death, turning to food for comfort and solace.

Right now, I was five foot ten inches tall, and two hundred and seventy seven pounds. That's 178 centimeters and 126 kilograms, for the uninitiated and non-Americans in the room.

"Can you stop staring at me?" a girl snapped from the cable machine next to me. "You're making me uncomfortable."

I blinked, realizing that I had been staring at the mirror. I quickly averted my gaze and focused on my workout, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

"Creep."

"Sorry," I muttered.

I grown up into a bit of a stereotypical 'Basement Dweller' in many ways. From childhood I had been dressed in awful garage sale clothes, given a bowl cut as a kid, all of which I'd been bullied horrendously for.

My father, of course, had gone out for milk when I was eight and never returned. My mother didn't exactly instill a healthy relationship with food for me. I was also an only child who was overfed until I could get away from her.

I didn't have a single friend until I was in high school, and even then, I was fully aware of where I was in the social hierarchy. Even now, I had awful social anxiety that made it difficult to talk to people.

But in the virtual world, I was different. I was confident and strong, a leader among my guildmates.

I finished my workout and headed back to my dorm, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. I had found my place in the world, and I was happy.

As I settled in front of my computer, I received a message from Lumina. She had sent a link to a forum post that she had created, proposing the idea of a memorial in honor of Bob.

My heart swelled with pride and gratitude, knowing that my guildmates cared just as much as I did. We had lost a dear friend, but we were going to make sure that his legacy lived on.

I replied to Lumina, telling her that I was fully on board with the idea, and that we should start planning as soon as possible.

Over the next few days, we worked tirelessly, reaching out to other guilds and players, collecting donations and organizing the event. And finally, the day of the memorial arrived.

The ceremony took place in the center of the Realm. Over a thousand players had gathered to pay their respects, each bringing flowers or candles to place at the foot of a statue that had been erected in Robert Rubyheart's honor.

As I stepped up to speak, I felt a wave of emotions overcome me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and began to speak from my heart.

"Robert Rubyheart was more than just a friend or a guildmate," I began. "He was a brother. He was someone who was always there for us, no matter what. He was a beacon of light in our lives, and his passing has left a void that can never be filled."

Tears streamed down my face as I spoke, but I continued on, fueled by the memories and the love that we had all shared. Bob had touched so many lives with his deep baritone voice and love for community-building, and his name would be forever etched into the Realm.

"But even though he's gone, his spirit lives on. His legacy lives on in each and every one of us, in the way that we play, in the way that we live, in the way that we love."

I paused, looking out over the crowd. And then, I raised my hand to the sky.

"Rest in peace, Bob. You will always be with us.

I stood beside Lumina and our other officers, my heart heavy with emotion as we listened to the speeches and stories that were shared about Bob. We laughed and cried together, remembering his humor, his kindness, and his unwavering dedication to our guild.

At the end of the ceremony, Lumina stepped forward with a small box in her hands. "Bob loved [Pizza]," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "So, we made it a thing here at the Parlor to honor him with a pizza party in his memory every month."

The crowd erupted into cheers, tears and applause as our guildmates began to distribute the boxes of the buff food that we had crafted. It was a small gesture, but it felt like a fitting tribute to our friend.

As the sun began to set, I stood beside Bob's statue, feeling a sense of peace wash over me. We had honored his memory in the best way that we knew how, and I knew that he would have been proud of us.

"Rest well, my friend," I whispered, placing a single [Undine Flower] at the foot of the statue. "We will always remember you."

I turned away, feeling a sense of closure wash over me.

Bob's memory would live on in our hearts and in our guild, and I knew that we would continue to make him proud.