The Goldfish Monologue

Maya's cat, Potato, had zero chill. The orange tabby spent approximately 23 hours a day unconscious, but that remaining hour? Pure chaos. Currently, Potato was losing her mind over a goldfish cracker that had fallen under the fridge.

"Bro, it's not even real," Maya said, watching Potato bat at the cracker with the intensity of a predator stalking its prey. "You're literally embarrassing yourself."

Potato ignored her, as cats do, and finally managed to fish out the cracker with one determined swipe. She looked ridiculously proud.

Maya sighed and grabbed her phone. Three unread messages from the group chat. Something about Tyler's party on Friday, the one everyone was going to, the one Maya had been lowkey dreading since she'd heard about it on Monday.

Her stomach did that thing it always did when she thought about parties — that weird, twisting sensation, like she'd swallowed a live goldfish that was desperately trying to escape.

It wasn't that she didn't want to go. She did. Sort of. It was more that the idea of showing up alone, of standing there while everyone else was already in their friend groups, of trying to look like she belonged when she felt like she was constantly running playback in her head, analyzing every interaction, every facial expression, every potential awkward moment — it was just a lot.

"You should go," said Jordan, appearing in her doorway like they'd been summoned by Maya's spiral. "It'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say," Maya muttered. "You're not the one who's going to show up and stand in the corner for three hours pretending to check your phone."

Jordan rolled their eyes. "First of all, I would absolutely stand in a corner and pretend to check my phone. That's my natural state. Second, you're overthinking it. Again."

"I'm not overthinking it," Maya said, even though she absolutely was. "I'm just... being realistic."

"You're being your own worst bear," Jordan said, using the metaphor they'd come up with last year during Maya's existential crisis about whether to try out for track. "You know, that voice in your head that's like 'everything is terrible and you're going to die alone'? That's the bear. And you're letting it win."

Maya looked at Potato, who had now fallen asleep on her keyboard. The cat was literally on top of the keys, pressing buttons randomly.

"Fine," Maya said. "But if I'm standing alone at the party looking awkward, you're legally required to come rescue me."

"Deal," Jordan said. "Now come on. I found this vintage video game store and they apparently have the original goldfish simulator from 1998. We have to go."

"Goldfish simulator?" Maya raised an eyebrow. "That sounds literally made up."

"That's what makes it legendary," Jordan said, already running down the hall. "Come on!"

Maya grabbed her hoodie and followed. The party was still three days away. She'd deal with the bear later. Right now, she had a legendary goldfish simulator to investigate.