Deep sleep led to his breakfast. Scrambled eggs, butter, bread and coffee. Rain poured on his window as his food disappeared, one bite at a time. He wiped his greasy mouth with the back of his hand, put on his VR gear and went to his account.

Money had found him.

***

The commentator’s mouth turned into a line. Her eyes went to one side, then to the other. She took a sip of overpriced tea laced with sugar and the flavor of the month.

The player rattled his throat, read the next line on his list. Words written in ink washed out by the rain, badly traced on paper, half wet, half wrinkled.

“where does he think he’ll end up? Running around alone in a world designed to kill groups of four.”

No answer.

“of course, he got his leg cut off. What was he supposed to do against four?”

“and–”

“Alright, I get it, you proved me wrong,” said the commentator, “you want a medal?”

The player ignored the question. Continued.

“and at 1:48 p.m., you posted ‘come watch my stream, I’m commentating for an absolute clown who stumbled into a Continental final. He’s H I L A R I O U S.’”

“That’s when the views exploded, you can’t blame me for doing my job.”

“I could, but I won’t. I reviewed the following days and your mean comments evolved. You even praised me for my second-place marker. A bit late, but everyone loves a good redemption arc.”

“You can’t argue with the numbers I brought in. I should have charged more.”

“I checked. You drew 0.08% of the audience. Art Delvers and the event itself did the rest.”

“Imagine viewers pouring in to an amateur commentator, they would have left from the cringe.”

“That’s a good point. You want to do my daily stream?”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

She smiled. He smiled. She raised her cup. He raised his plastic bottle. Human, he thought, worked in mysterious ways.

***

The interface’s mind tracker selected the right model. The latest VR rig. His next thought increased the order to two. His address auto filled. He switched it to the familial farm. Little bro deserved something for his amazing, and unwilling, support.

They would practice after their daily chores. Half a day on the farm, twenty-four on the moons of Ooloo. Playing duo might hurt his style, but who cared. Family first.

He took a long look of his apartment. Closed the light, then the door. On to the elevator. A pleasant walk to the station. Sunny sky. Birds chirping. Bees busy. Human hypnotized by their digital implants. Eyes glazed. Reacting to obstacles with a delay. A handful fully awake, taking in the bright day.

The commuter waited for his train with a smile. A weight had lifted from his shoulder. Financial pressure had evaporated in four reality-based hours. Success had found him.

He cared little for the attention. Enjoyed the achievement. Had even unlocked a new skin and the professional gamer tag for his account.

Job well done. Practice had paid off. Time to see his family. Help his parents. Train his brother. Eat proper food.

He sipped his yellow energy drink as the train arrived. Looked back over his shoulder as he entered. Nothing there.

The end