The boy stared at himself in the mirror, combing once more through the mop of brown hair on his head. His bright green eyes gazed boredly back at him through hanging strands. Of a mediocre height and build, the boy was nothing impressive. At first glance, many would ignore him, as he blended into the crowd. He was nothing more than average.

Except for his intelligence. The one thing Timothy had going for him in his life was his brain. His father was sure he would succeed, even if he didn’t always pay attention in class. His mother was worried that all the games he played would bring him down. But it was really his brother’s opinion that Timothy cared about. His little brother, Shawn, thought the world of Timothy. Nobody else could explain things like Shawn’s older brother. And Shawn always had something he wanted explained. He was a curious little guy.

Timothy ran the comb through his knotted hair one more time, before sighing and giving up on it. He only had energy for games. This kind of effort was beyond the span of his will. Throwing on the work shirt that hadn’t been washed in days, Timothy sniffed it, and couldn’t find any discernible smell, so he shrugged it off and got ready to leave for work.

As he walked down the stairs, Timothy’s mother called out, “Have fun at work!”. The boy rolled his eyes, and didn’t respond. When he opened the door, she peeked around the corner and scolded him. “You should tell me you love me,” she said. “You never know when it will be the last time.”

He sighed. “That kind of interaction isn’t going to be the last thing you remember anyway. It’d be something dumb like waking me up that day, and not keeping me from leaving, or something.”

His mother placed her hands on her waist, oven mitts in one hand. “Do you want me to stop you from leaving, young man?” Timothy rolled his eyes again and walked out the door. It was their usual exchange, and he was tired of it.

“I love you!” He heard his mother shout before the door shut.

“Yeah, yeah,” Timothy mumbled. “Whatever.” He walked down the white porch stairs, and out onto the sidewalk. The shop being only a few minutes away by foot, it was the perfect job for the seventeen-year-old. He didn’t have to travel very far, and since he didn’t own a car, that was ideal.

Timothy sighed again as he walked to the shop. Tomorrow was Monday, and that meant he had to go back to school to sit around in class, bored out of his mind.

Why can’t I just stay home and play games all day? I’m great at them! He kicked a stone on the sidewalk. His mother just didn’t understand that with the proper time and equipment, Timothy could be a pro player. That was the whole reason he started this job, anyway. He just wanted to buy a good computer, but his mother kept taking all the money and putting it in savings! She only left him a little bit each week. What an idiot. He kicked the stone further, and it bounced out into the road. Tempted to retrieve it to continue his idle habit, Timothy paused and looked across the road at the apartments on the other side.

He hated living in the city. All the trash and graffiti, and the noise. Playing MMO’s let Timothy explore nature, and he really wanted to live somewhere rural. He stepped forward to grab the stone in the street.

A loud honking noise startled him, and he looked up the road to see a truck barrelling down it. That driver was definitely moving above the speed limit. In fact, he had to be going twice that! Timothy stumbled backwards as the eighteen wheeler branded with “Barty’s, the only drank for your stank!”, whatever that was, shot by in front of him.

What the hell!?! That guy needs to slow down! The truck raced down the road, slowing down only to turn, and shot out of Timothy’s vision. He took a few rapid breaths of air, and then admonished himself. The seventeen-year-old liked to think of himself as calm and collected, so he hastily scrambled to obtain that mindset once more.

A near-death experience was certainly something to shake a normal person, but Timothy forced himself to stay calm. Sure, his mother had said that today could be the last time he’d ever see her, but she said that all the time. The chances of him dying before achieving greatness were slim. Though, maybe the boy would be better prepared to take on the world if he actually applied himself more. Being a genius is one thing, Timothy thought. But the real reward is when everybody knows you’re a genius, and you’re a success!

Finally recovering from the last couple of minutes, Timothy made his way on down the sidewalk, heading towards work. Marianna, the manager, had gone missing a couple of days ago, and nobody knew what happened to her. So he was being called in to cover for her shifts whenever he could. Of course, the owners knew he couldn’t work during school hours, but on the weekend, Timothy pretty much stood in the store from nine to nine. And that was because the owners were busy with Marianna’s family and trying to help the police find her.

The odd thing was, the camera outside the shop never caught her leaving that day. And the store wasn’t locked up. Everybody was confused and concerned. But Timothy wasn’t bothered. If the manager couldn’t handle the stress, who was he to judge? She probably just snuck out and ran away, somehow. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen in the city. Not even a year ago some dude got hit by a truck and launched through the second story window of a corporate building. It was pretty gorey, and Timothy was glad he wasn’t around to see it. His manager running off wasn’t a big deal.

Though it was an inconvenience. Timothy sighed once more as he arrived at the shop and opened up. He glanced down each aisle to make sure everything was stocked well enough. If it wasn’t, and the owners popped in to check up on him, he was sure to be scolded. A few expired cans of food sat on some shelves, but Timothy didn’t bother with them. If somebody bought them, that was their fault.

He shrugged, pulling a stool out from the back of the shop, and sitting down in front of the cash register. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he started to play one of his favorite first-person shooter games, being sure to capture any good moments on video. He’d upload them later to his social media. Maybe somebody would finally donate, so he could afford to actually stream. Timothy was sure he’d be more motivated to at least post more videos if people paid him for doing something he loved. He just wished he could do something he actually enjoyed, for a change.

About an hour into his game, the bell over the shop’s door rang. Timothy didn’t move; he was locked into an intense fight between himself and the other surviving player. If he got a headshot with this weapon for the win, it would be a crazy clip for him to post. It was about a minute into Timothy’s intense fight that he heard the person clear their throat.

Crud. Timothy’s blood ran cold. Was it the manager? He figured he was in deep enough, he might as well finish his fight. He just had to hit one more shot… Yes! He quickly saved the video of his victory and glanced up. It wasn’t his boss.

A man in a pinstriped suit stood before the register.