Wyatt cleared his throat and recounted the story of when he met Dayzees.

I made it to round five. I was in the top 64, but I drew 75K, so I knew I was toast. Our games were close, though, I stole one from him, but all three of our matches were neck and neck. It was crazy, a crowd of people watched my match, and some cheered for me. That was like the first time that had ever happened.

After I lost my match, I just wanted to sit and think for a moment. So there I was, sitting in a sea of chairs, most of them empty. I was all by myself, my hair was long, and I was basically wearing the same thing I’m wearing right now, headband included. That’s my thing. I love my long hair and headband.

I debated leaving or sticking around to see who would take first, and it was during that time that Dayzees came up to me.

“Hey,” Dayzees said. But I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me because a few people were around, and he was just walking in my general direction, so I didn’t look over.

“Hey!” he said again.

I finally poked my head up.

“Hey hippie, I’m talking to you. No, I don’t want an autograph,” Dayzees said.

“Is that how you greet people?” I replied.

“If you have a pulse and you’re here, I assume you know who I am, so no introduction is needed. Are you playing in tomorrow’s doubles tournament?”

“What?” I said, and I swear he replied the following sentence verbatim:

“What are you stoned? How do I simplify what I just said? Are you playing in the team battles tournament tomorrow?”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“What do you mean you weren’t planning on it? Did you buy a pass but felt disheartened after losing just now?”

“No, it’s not like that. I just didn’t want to waste the money since I don’t have a doubles partner.”

“Well, buy a pass for tomorrow. We’re partners now,” he stated.

I looked at him with my eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

“Unless you don’t have money? I know hippies don’t usually have a lot to their name, but—“

I interrupted his sentence with laughter, and he gave me the evil eye. “Why are you asking me? Aren’t you partners with Amaya? She’s a top-eight player that your lucky ass got grandfathered in with. Not to mention, she’s on your four-team squad for the ‘try hard’ tournament.”

“She annoys me.” Dayzees sneered. “And it’s probably a good thing we’re not going to be partners because it looks like you’d annoy me too.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to say yes or no.”

“Judging by your apprehension, it looks like a no. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that’s passing you by. I’m not gonna let you reject my offer,” Dayzees said, and he walked away, grumbling to himself something about how I was throwing away more than just a first-place prize.

I didn’t care, though. I didn’t want to be his partner.

“The next day, Dayzees and Amaya won first place in the doubles tournament. That makes two years in a row,” Wyatt finished.

Darren and I were both staring intently and shaking our heads.

“Wow, that guy sounds like a real pile,” Darren said.

“Yeah, maybe it’s unfair to judge, but I hate the whole tournament scene just because of him,” Wyatt said.

“What was 75K like?” I asked.

“Seemed like a really nice guy. Shook my hand before and after the match and said I was a good player and someone who could have made it further in the tournament.”

“Well, there you go. Not every player in the top eight is a jerk,” I said.

Wyatt shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“As you told me that story, I had a wild realization. Don’t you see? When Dayzees asked you to be on his team, he saw that you had a lot of potential,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“When Dayzees asked Amaya to be on his team two years ago, she wasn’t in the top eight. I guess the two aren’t getting along for some reason, so he was looking for you to replace her since you aren’t in the top eight yet. He sees that you’re a high-caliber player.”

“What does he know?” Wyatt scoffed and waved his hand.

“Seriously, Wyatt. Think about that. I think you might be able to give him a run for his money.”

“What’re you getting at?” Wyatt asked.

“Well, I was talking to Darren about this, and I just thought it would be really fun if the three of us did a tournament,” I said, hoping he’d say yes with every fiber of my being.

“Eh, I don’t really know. I like playing this game for fun. I tried the tournament scene out, not sure if it’s for me,” Wyatt said. “C’mon, though, let’s see how good you are at this game.”

We picked up our controllers, and we started choosing our characters. I began with Soul-Steel. Wyatt chose Toxic-Javelin.

“That’s the only character Wyatt ever plays as,” Darren said.

“Uh oh, that could get a little problematic,” I said.

“What do you mean problematic? For tournament playing? Yeah, sure, I get it. Everyone always has a backup character, but maybe I just play the game differently and don’t care about tournaments,” Wyatt said. “Pick the stage, Gordie.”

I landed on my usual The Star’s Edge. The match started, and I leaned in. I always focused better when my head was closer to the screen, even if it was only by a few inches. Wyatt was leisurely leaning back.

As soon as the match began, Wyatt landed a poisonous twenty-hit combo with fists, kicks, elbows, and javelins. My chances were slim, but my eyes lit up.

Wyatt is damn good.

I tried to combat with a sporadic attempt at sword combos. All of which he excellently defended and retaliated against. Toxic-Javelin impaled Soul-Steel and turned a shade of green before exploding into sparks, shrapnel, and green venom.

“Not bad, Gordie. I take it Soul-Steel isn’t your main?” Wyatt said, grinning ear to ear and playfully nudging my shoulder.

If it was anyone else, I would have been irritated. Still, something about Wyatt’s spirit was so jovial that I couldn’t help but feel warm inside, even if he was poking fun at me.

I smiled back at him. “You’d be correct. He’s not my main character. That would be—“ I selected him on the screen so I could voice it in time with the in-game narrator, “OBSIDIAN-GOLEM!”

“Woooow, okay! Quite the different two characters. Let’s get into it.” Wyatt beamed. “Let’s play at my favorite stage, The Rain Chamber!”

We started the next match. My strategy this time was to come at him with full force and full concentration. No need to size him up or analyze how he would play. Obsidian-Golem started with a massive strike from his club. A few haymakers and a couple of kicks later, I landed a ten-hit combo.

Wyatt was still rooted to the couch, unfazed. There wasn’t any part of him that flinched. His Toxic-Javelin returned with a flurry of stabs and javelin tosses. My Obsidian-Golem wasn’t finished yet. He hurled his projectiles of molten rock, and a few of them landed, but I got carried away. Toxic-Javelin started to weave through them with perfection, finally raining down piercing stabs that made Obsidian-Golem collapse and keel over.

“Damn, dude, you just beat my secret weapon,” I admitted.

“That was a close one, man. You’re pretty good at the game. If I slipped up or was even playing a little bit off, you would’ve won for sure. And the speed you get from Obsidian-Golem? I didn’t even think that was possible,” Wyatt said.

“So does that mean you’d be down to give the tournament another shot? I think you might seriously have a chance at landing in the top eight, and then you can pick up Darren and me to be on your team when they invite you to the special tournament.”

Wyatt looked at me with a smile and then at Darren. He burst out laughing. “Gordie, you seem like a great kid and all, and believe me, if I ever made the top eight, you’d totally be invited to be on my team. Darren? Maybe not…” He gave Darren an animated side-eye.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Darren chimed in, but Wyatt just laughed.

“I’m kidding. Of course, you’d be on my team. Problem is, Gordie, I have no interest in ever playing in one of those stupid tournaments ever again.”

“But why? You’re so freaking talented at the game. Playing against you reminds me of playing against my—“ my voice gave out, and then my mind fell to a dark place that only brought streams of tears.

“Reminds you of who?” Wyatt asked, but I couldn’t speak because I tried my damnedest to hold back the crying.

“We can talk about it later,” Darren said as he patted my back.

“Oh, uh, sorry. You alright, Gordie? You almost look like you were just choking on something.”

“I’m fine,” my voice cracked.

For the rest of that day, we played Elite Crushers, taking turns playing against each other. I never saw Wyatt bring out any alcohol to drink, but he was still impressive even without it. I couldn’t imagine how much more his game could improve, but I took Darren for his word. Through the whole day of us playing nonstop, I never beat Wyatt, but I stole a few games from Darren, and Darren only beat Wyatt once from the twenty-some-odd matches they played.

As the evening grew closer, I knew I had to leave to avoid getting in trouble with my parents for being out too late on a Sunday.

“Well, it’s getting late, Wyatt. I gotta get going home,” I said.

“Right on, dude, it was dope playing today. Come on over anytime. Maybe we could do this like once a weekend or something.”

“Yeah, if Gordie and I aren’t working, we can swing by. Some of us have jobs, you know?” Darren elbowed Wyatt in jest.

“Lay off, dude. I’ll get a job and figure something out soon.”

“Come work at the grocery store. It ain’t all that bad, right, Gord?”

“Not bad at all. I kind of like it.”

“I’m good, thanks though, guys.” Wyatt hugged both of us. “Maybe I can come over to your place, Darren, so you guys don’t have to always drive this far up.”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Darren said.

We said our goodbyes then Darren and I got back in my car and started the long drive home.

After about 15 minutes of driving through the side streets, I got onto the expressway for a smooth ride home. We were silent the whole time, but eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. There was a bit of dissonance that was gnawing at my mind.

“I feel terrible. I think I may have come on too strong about the whole tournament thing with Wyatt,” I said.

“Don’t feel too bad. Looking back on it, I think it should’ve come from me since he doesn’t know you very well,” Darren said while scratching his chin. “If you think he’s as good as you say he is, I don’t think it’s a bad idea for him to do the Chicago tournament. He can at least give it a shot. It’s local, and he might not be able to afford it, but his parents sure can.”

“Yeah, I meant to ask about that, well, not actually ask because that would be rude, but I figured I could talk to you about it. What do his parents do that they can afford such a nice place north of downtown in an expensive neighborhood? What does Wyatt even do?”

“Well, his dad is a surgeon at a hospital, and his mom is a professor at Pritzker, you know, the medical school at the University of Chicago. As far as Wyatt goes, he doesn’t really do much of anything. He wanted to be a graphic designer and graduated from the art program at Northwestern, but I think he suffers from laziness. His dad is a bit of a tough guy, but his mom has a heart of gold. And by that, I mean she spoils him. She also spoils me on Christmas or birthday, but for Wyatt, she buys him stuff all the time. His dad has a real problem with it.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Wyatt’s dad blames a lot of my cousin’s laziness because his mom just buys him whatever he wants. When Wyatt was going to school, he didn’t apply for graphic design internships. Even though he’s pretty good at it, he didn’t have much motivation. In fact, I still don’t think he has much motivation.”

“Damn, that’s a little sad.”

Darren shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know. He does it to himself. He lives in a really nice house with them, and his parents also paid for his college, so I don’t feel bad for him about that. I know his dad is hounding him to get a job, so that sucks, but I don’t think his personality fits a lot of work environments. He’s a unique individual who needs to do his own special thing for money. Maybe he’ll open his eyes and give Elite Crushers a chance. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea.”

“How do you think we might be able to convince him?” I asked.

“I’ll think of a plan,” Darren said.

The weeks passed by, and we were already coming to the end of winter. The Chicago tournament happened during the springtime in mid-April, and we were already a month away. Darren and I didn’t have much luck trying to talk with Wyatt. Darren’s plan was to focus on playing the game with Wyatt as much as possible to push him to be better and myself. Hopefully, as I got closer to him, we’d have a better shot at convincing him to play at the tournament.