The gaming cafe had mostly cleared out by the time Liam packed up. Matt and the others were chatting about strategies for their next scrim, throwing around terms and map names Liam didn't even recognize.
Liam stood awkwardly near the counter, feeling both exhilarated and embarrassed.
He had fumbled his way through the match. Missed shots, bad positioning, getting caught from angles he didn't even know existed.
But even through the mess, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time that stubborn spark.
The one that made you want to try again.
Matt slapped Liam on the back. "Hey man, thanks again for showing up tonight. You saved our asses from playing 4v5."
"No problem" Liam said, giving a sheepish grin. "I just… I didn't even know what was going on half the time."
Matt chuckled. "Yeah, noticed that." He winked. "But you're not terrible. Honestly? You've got instincts. You just don't know the game yet."
Liam scratched the back of his head. "Honestly, I didn't even know it was an FPS until I walked in here."
That got a round of laughter from the others.
"No worries, man," said one of Matt's teammates, a guy called Troy. He had long black hair that hung loosely around his shoulders, giving him a laid-back vibe. "Everyone starts somewhere. Vanguard's a deep game. Takes months just to stop being trash."
"Gee, thanks" Liam muttered, only half-joking.
Matt leaned in, a little more serious now.
"Listen" he said, "we've got a local tournament coming up in like... two months. Small prize pool, nothing crazy. But it's a stepping stone. You got free time? You could maybe… start grinding. Learn the basics."
Liam blinked. "Grind? I work full-time, Matt. I'm not sixteen anymore, living in a fantasy."
Matt shrugged. "Even an hour a night would help. You never know, dude. You could be good at this."
The others started packing up their gear. One by one, they waved goodbye, leaving Liam and Matt by the door.
"Just think about it" Matt said. "You ever wanna train, hit me up. I'll lend you my old setup. It's not fancy, but it'll run Vanguard just fine."
Liam hesitated. The idea sounded crazy. Training for a tournament? Starting from scratch in a genre he had zero experience in?
But somewhere deep down, buried beneath logic and exhaustion, a tiny, foolish voice whispered
Why not?
"Alright" Liam said. "Maybe I'll give it a shot."
Matt grinned wide. "That's the spirit."
The Next Day
Liam sat on the worn-out couch in his tiny apartment, staring at the ancient PC tower Matt had dropped off earlier that morning.
It made a horrible whirring noise when it booted up, like a dying blender, but somehow it was still alive.
He had already downloaded Vanguard, hands shaking a little as he clicked 'Play' for the first time.
The main menu loaded in dark, sharp graphics, intense music thumping low in his headphones.
He browsed the menus, feeling more lost by the second.
Operators. Weapons. Maps. Modes.
It all blurred together into a tangled mess of unknown terms.
There was a training room button tucked in the corner. Liam clicked it without thinking.
Suddenly he was dropped into a sterile, warehouse-like map. No enemies, just targets scattered across walls and dummies standing still.
He picked up a rifle and aimed it at the nearest dummy.
The recoil made the gun jerk wildly upward, and his shot went so wide he barely even nicked the shoulder.
Liam sighed. This was going to be a disaster.
He spent the next hour just getting used to aiming.
Dragging the mouse slowly across the pad. Trying to keep the crosshair at head height.
Half his shots still missed. His movement felt clunky, robotic. Every time he strafed left, he forgot to counter-strafe before shooting.
The screen kept flashing "Miss" in red text after every burst.
But somewhere between the frustration and self-loathing, Liam felt that spark again.
It was bad... but it was also kinda fun.
A Week Later
Every evening after his shift, Liam dragged himself back home and booted up Vanguard.
His room stank of cheap instant noodles and stale air, and his body ached from standing all day at the gas station, but once he sat down and the screen lit up, it was like flipping a switch.
He stuck to the practice range at first.
Slow, painful improvements.
He learned to control recoil.
He learned not to sprint around corners like an idiot.
He learned the names of the guns - the Draco, the SP15, the Viper.
Matt occasionally dropped in to check on him.
Sometimes they played custom matches together, Matt laughing whenever Liam forgot to plant the bomb or got flashbanged in the face.
"You're getting better" Matt said one night after a particularly close 1v1.
"You're just saying that so I don't quit" Liam muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Nope" Matt said. "I mean it. You're improving fast. You just need real matches now."
"Real matches?" Liam echoed.
"Yeah. Unrated games. Play with randoms. Get used to the chaos. It's different from bots, man."
Liam stared at the screen, heart pounding.
Was he really ready for that?
First Unrated Match
The countdown ticked to zero, and Liam found himself on the loading screen with four strangers.
Their usernames were chaotic things like "69SniperBoi" and "UwUHeadshotz."
Nobody said hello. Instead, he heard blaring rap music blasting through someone's open mic.
Perfect.
He picked an Operator at random - Sora, a fast-moving scout with vision abilities.
He barely knew what she did.
The match started.
Chaos.
Utter, unfiltered chaos.
Teammates yelling over each other, enemies pre-firing corners, grenades exploding at his feet.
Liam died within thirty seconds.
He died again.
And again.
Sometimes without even seeing the enemy.
But somewhere around Round 5, something changed.
He stuck behind a teammate, following their lead.
He watched their movement, mimicked their peaks, their positioning.
He started catching glimpses of the flow - the hidden rhythm that good players seemed to move to.
That round, Liam got his first kill.
It was messy.
He missed the first five shots.
But somehow, he adjusted, dragged his crosshair over the enemy's head, and clicked.
The kill notification flashed across the top of his screen:
[Haze] eliminated [UwUCuddlez].
For a second, everything went silent.
Just the soft ping of success.
Liam leaned back in his chair, grinning like an idiot.
One kill.
Big deal.
But it felt like a big deal.
It felt like planting a flag on top of Everest.
After the Match
They lost horribly.
Scoreline: 3-13.
Total kills for Liam: 4.
But he didn't care.
He disconnected from the lobby and sat there in the dark, his fingers still buzzing.
His whole body exhausted, his eyes bloodshot.
But God... he had missed this feeling.
The grind.
The learning.
The tiny wins that no one else noticed, but you knew how much they meant.
His phone buzzed.
Matt:
"How'd it go?"
Liam typed back:
"Got 4 kills. Lost hard. Had a blast."
Matt:
"Hell yeah. Welcome back, Haze."
Haze.
His old gaming tag.
It felt strange seeing it again...
but not in a bad way.
Liam looked at the Vanguard menu, his cursor hovering over the 'Play' button.
Tomorrow, he'd do it again.
And the day after that.
And the day after that.
Because something deep inside him had clicked back into place.
He wasn't just killing time anymore.
He was building something.
Something new.