“You're only talking about league, it's fucking annoying.”

That's what my friends told me when I was starting to center my life around the thing I loved: a video game.
They were probably right with what they said. The fact that, despite whatever we were doing, I had the desire to compare it to league, must've indeed been annoying to them.

“That's legit Garen's E-ability!” when seeing a crazy sword-spinning guy in an anime.
“So, this is just an Ashe clone?” after taking the ice skill-tree on an archer in an MMO.
“Your dad's looking like Gragas.” Okay, that probably wasn't too nice, but at least I was being honest.

At least I started to realize they weren't real friends. Unless acting as they expected me to, and carrying them through their gold and silver promos, there wasn't much of a connection between us. After all, they'd just started talking to me in school after hearing about my rank, emerald, back then. We hadn't even met outside of the internet since my last day at school. Maybe they were too ashamed of letting me down when I needed them the most.

From that point on, I committed everything to league.
I didn't waste any more time during the day and optimized my lifestyle as much as I could.
I stopped eating fast food, candies, and all the other crap people shoved into their mouths to forget about the worries of life.
Instead, I started cooking fresh meals with lots of vegetables, taking supplements, and even working out regularly. Although sports had been my arch-nemesis ever since the first day of middle school, because I was fat and everyone knows what happens to such kids at school.

For the last years, I've only had online schooling. Not because of some pandemic, but because I just couldn't show up there anymore. People straight up didn't like me. Obviously, that was an understatement; they hated me in an absurdly passionate way. Nobody had ever felt so strongly about me. Sadly, not in a good way.

You could even say they cared more about me than my parents, since my father ran away when I was about 2 years old, and my mother... I don't even know what she thought of me. My existence mostly meant stress for her, as there were so many problems surrounding me, and she was the one who had to deal with them.
Surprisingly, she didn't kick me out on my 18th birthday. I didn't understand why. It's not that I wished for it to happen, but I would have understood.

I never felt like she loved me or anything like that, although she had said so many times. She really tried her best, but society just wasn't made for disturbed cases like me. So, I was doomed to be a failure.

My miserable mental state was also thanks to my beloved child psychologist, who to this day refused to admit she was wrong about my diagnoses all along. She was certain that I was just lazy and didn't want to work, so I started faking mental problems. I was 12 years old back then. That was some next-level conspiracy theory shit if you ask me.

She said at best I'd have ADHD, and my mother should look to get herself a new husband that would teach me manners. Though we're not the first case where this had happened. There's a reason her doctor's office got a 1.8-star rating on the internet. How was that hullabaloo of a circus still open to the public? By now, she's probably produced more mass murderers than there are in the whole universe of anime.

Then something dawned on me.
“Oh my god... I forgot to take my medication…” I mumbled, hearing Lux giggle into my ear.
Was that the reason she didn't talk to me anymore? Though, shouldn't it have caused the exact opposite of that?

In the end, I took that medicine so the voices wouldn't take over. Although they had never been harmful. In fact, they actually helped me cope with trauma and loneliness. Maybe it only kept away the bad voices... Like the ones of Miss Heizenmatt-Lind. Immediately, I tried to imagine anything but her in my head, basically putting duct tape on her mouth.

Man, wouldn't it be fun to rip it off with full force, tearing out every single hair on her upper lip that formed this unsettling mustache on her face...?

The scene got pictured before my inner eye; her screams echoing through my head accompanied by my amused laughter as I yanked it off her. Observing these uncharacteristic malicious thoughts, I felt as if I had not only threatened her but also myself. It scared me and reminded me that I should definitely take the medication before heading out.

Exiting the shower, I dressed hastily, my mind racing. A quick glance at the clock: 14:17

What?! So late already?!

I was supposed to be at the meeting room by 14:30 and didn't even know exactly where it was located.

I still hadn't eaten anything by now. What should I even eat? And, most importantly, where should I eat? These seemingly unimportant questions were crucial to me.

Eating in public was a nightmare; the mere thought filled me with unease. Being as socially anxious as I was, there was nothing that felt more rife with opportunities to embarrass myself than eating in front of others. Every bite seemed like a potential social disaster, a chance to make a fool out of myself. It would also take at least double the time than usual—time I didn't have.

Perhaps I would just need to starve through the semi-finals. Finding something suitable to eat was nearly impossible anyway. Being vegan and having multiple food intolerances meant that any slip-up could severely affect my performance. I couldn't take any risks today.

A desperate sigh escaped me as I squished my head with both hands. "Why am I sooo weird?"

The familiar feeling of racing against the clock reminded me of school days. It was the same frantic rush: waking up, constantly calculating time, and then preparing to face the horror that awaited me. As I left the hotel room at 14:21, I kept checking my phone for the time.

An unbelievably long line of people gathered outside the building where the Red Bull Super-Cup would be held. Fortunately, it was located right next to the hotel, so I didn't need to rely on public transport or anything else. With every step I took toward the crowd, my pulse quickened. The atmosphere was reminiscent of school but with the stark difference that everyone was here voluntarily. Did that include me as well? Or was I only here because I forced myself to be?

Looking at the sheer amount of people, I couldn't imagine that all of them would be in their seats by 15:00; there were just too many of them waiting to get in.

How would I get in there in time? Panic came over me. How did I not think this through? The others probably went there super early. Why didn't Marius tell me? Desperately, I opened the group chat on my phone:

13:02 Nick: Gregor, pls be here by 14
13:26 Nick: Pls reply asap
13:28 Janosch: …
14:15 Nick: Noah, when will you be here? Just checking
14:22 Noah: I'll be there in 5min
14:31 Noah: I can't get in
14:32 Noah: It's pure chaos
14:32 Noah: What do I do?!