Running with Bulls

Alex held the ethernet cable like a lifeline, watching the connection icon stutter from three bars to two to nothing. Again.

"Dude, you're lagging out," Tyler's voice crackled through Discord. "Your internet is trash."

Alex gripped the mouse tighter. "I know, I know. Just give me a sec."

Living twenty minutes outside of town meant dealing with WiFi that died every time it rained. Tonight, the tournament finals for Regionals, and the sky had opened up like it was trying to drown the whole county.

Outside, Buster — their ancient golden retriever mix — started barking at thunder. The dog had been doing this for twelve years, as if his noise could scare away the sky.

"I'm back," Alex said, pulling the cable tighter across the floor. But the damage was done. Tyler was already typing in chat: *gg, never playing with randos again.*

Alex slammed the desk. This was supposed to be their moment — finally getting noticed by the semi-pro team that scouted local tournaments. Instead, they were just the kid with the garbage internet who ruined everything.

The next morning, Alex's dad found them staring at the ceiling fan.

"Rough night?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Internet died. Again. Can we please just get actual cable internet out here? The satellite stuff is worthless."

Dad sighed. "You know the deal. Companies won't run lines out this far. Not enough customers."

"It's not fair."

"Life's not fair." Dad paused. "But Old Man Harrison down the road got fiber installed last month. You could ask him about running a cable from his place to ours."

Alex sat up. "Seriously?"

"Sure. But you'll have to ask nice. And he's got that bull in the front pasture now — the one that got out last week and put him in the hospital. So watch yourself."

The walk to Harrison's farm took fifteen minutes, past corn fields that stretched forever. Alex had only spoken to Mr. Harrison twice — once when he'd found Alex's lost bike, another time when Alex had accidentally hit his mailbox with a baseball.

The bull was there alright. Massive, black, watching Alex with eyes that seemed to say *turn around now.*

Alex's heart hammered. But what was scarier — a bull on a chain, or another three years of lagging out, watching everyone else move on without them?

They knocked anyway.

Mr. Harrison opened the door, surprised. "Alex? Everything alright?"

"I was wondering —" Alex's voice cracked. "If I could run a cable from your fiber to our house? For internet? I'll do all the work. Pay for everything."

Mr. Harrison studied them for a long moment. Then he looked at the bull, then back at Alex.

"You know what that bull did to me?"

Alex nodded.

"And you came here anyway?"

"I really need this internet."

Mr. Harrison smiled. "Alright then. Let's talk cable."

Two months later, Alex watched their stream hit 1,000 followers. The chat scrolled fast, but one message stood out: *Tyler: wtffff you're actually good now??*

Alex leaned back, Buster asleep on their feet, and finally, finally typed back: *rematch?*

This time, they weren't lagging. This time, they were ready.