The Sphinx's Broken Cable

The discord call crackled through my headphones, chaos incarnate. It was supposed to be chill game night, but instead my cable kept cutting out at the worst possible moments.

"Yo Sphinx, you ghosting again?" Marcus laughed, using that nickname he'd given me in seventh grade because I never talked. Like, ever. Social anxiety hit different when your brain decided every conversation was a boss battle you weren't leveled up for.

"Sorry, HDMI's being jank again," I mumbled, frantically wiggling the connection. My bear of a golden retriever, Buster, nudged my hand with his wet nose, sensing my stress.

Outside my window, I could hear the neighborhood dogs going off—probably that tiny Chihuahua next door that thought it was a wolf. The irony wasn't lost on me. Even the animals were out here living their best lives while I was barely surviving a video game call.

"Whatever, sphinx mode activated," Marcus continued, not meaning anything by it. "You're just gonna sit there being mysterious and lowkey carry us again like last week."

My chest got weirdly tight. He thought I was being cool and mysterious? I was just terrified that if I said the wrong thing, this fragile friendship would shatter like a dropped phone screen.

Buster leaned his full weight against my leg, that sixty-pound furball knowing exactly what I needed. I took a breath.

"Actually," I said, my voice barely shaking, "I've been working on this art project. It's kinda... personal?"

The call went quiet. Not the bad kind. The listening kind.

"For real?" Sarah asked. "Send it through the Discord, sphinx. We wanna see."

I opened the file, my hands slightly trembling. It was a drawing of all of us as fantasy heroes, mid-battle, mid-laugh. I'd spent weeks on it, too scared to share.

"No way," Marcus breathed. "This is actually fire."

"Yo, you drew me with that sword I'm always talking about?" Josh sounded genuinely hyped.

Something unclenched in my chest. The sphinx had finally spoken, and the world hadn't ended. In fact, it felt like it was just beginning.

"Thanks," I said, and for the first time in forever, I didn't want to disappear. "Maybe next time I'll actually use my mic."