“F**KER!” Dylan yelled, leaning into his monitor as he hissed. His fingers flew across his keyboard as his mouse snapped left and right, eyes wide and focused on the screen. With his headphones over his ears, Dylan couldn’t hear a thing—save for the sound of his racing heart.

“I’m so gonna kill this b**ch! —Come on! Come on!” The blonde mashed the keys before breathing a sigh of relief as the game ended.

Soda cans littered the messy, dark room. Chip bags lay askew on the ground in the awry of clothing and sweaters on the floor. Manga and magazines lay in toppled stacks, rimming the bed frame that had unfolded sheets.

”Victory!” the computer sounded. It received middle-finger from the winded boy.

“What a pain…I CARRIED ALL THAT!” Dylan yelled, before rubbing his cranium. He leaned into once more, unaware of the creak of his door as begin another match.