The Summer Everything Fell Apart

The vitamin gummies sat on my nightstand like accusation candies. Mom had bought them because apparently fifteen-year-old boys need "immune support" even when they spend整个 summer gaming.

"Dude, you coming?" Marcus's voice crackled through my headset. The ethernet cable connecting my console to the router was my lifeline. Not wifi—I wasn't casual.

"Can't. Family dinner."

"Again? You're missing the raid."

I disconnected and trudged downstairs, where something disastrous was happening. My cousin Jenna sat at the table with her laptop open, looking way too intense.

"Ty, listen," she said, eyes bright. "This isn't a pyramid scheme. It's a multi-level marketing opportunity."

"Jenna," I said. "That is literally what a pyramid scheme is."

She ignored me, pushing her laptop toward me. "You have followers. Your gaming TikToks get views. Imagine if you monetized that clout."

My mom walked in with a fruit bowl. "Eat something healthy, Ty." She placed it in front of me.

There, nestled among apples and oranges, sat a papaya. Like, a whole papaya. Who buys those? It looked alien, like something that evolved on a different planet.

"What even is this," I said.

"It's good for you," Mom said. "Full of enzymes."

"So is saliva, but you don't see me eating bowls of that."

Jenna sighed dramatically. "Focus, Ty. This business model—"

A sudden movement outside the window cut her off. A cat—a scrawny, determined-looking orange tabby—was balancing on our fence, staring at me through the glass like it knew my deepest insecurities.

I stood up. Something about the cat's expression felt judgmental. Like it knew I spent six hours a day pretending to be a dwarf warrior but couldn't even have an uncomfortable conversation with my cousin.

"Where are you going?" Mom called as I headed for the back door.

"Outside."

"Take your vitamins!"

I grabbed two gummies on my way out. The cat waited. It had a point to make, I could feel it.

"What?" I asked, sitting on the patio. "You gonna tell me I'm wasting my summer?"

The cat blinked, slow and deliberate, then hopped down and trotted away. Just like that. No profound moment. No life-changing realization. The bar was on the floor.

But standing there, watching it disappear into the neighbor's yard, I realized something: I didn't want to be the guy who missed raids because he was scared of an awkward conversation. I didn't want to be the guy who let Jenna MLM her way through our family dinners without pushing back. And I definitely didn't want to be the guy who let a papaya intimidate him.

I went back inside. Jenna was mid-pitch about "residual income streams."

"Jenna," I said, picking up a slice of papaya. It tasted like sunshine felt like it should. "No. But I'll help you make a TikTok about how MLMs are scams. It'll go viral."

She stared at me. Then she laughed. "You're annoying."

"I've been told."

Back in my room, Marcus was still online. "You coming?"

"Yeah," I said, putting on my headset. "But first—" I popped the rest of the vitamin gummies. "—immune support."

"What?"

"Never mind. Let's raid."