After my first game, I walked to the other section to catch up with Lawrence and Michael. Lawrence was in the middle of a match while Michael watched alongside a crowd of seven. I felt a little jealous, no one watched my game, but it was the first round. Not many people were spectating the first games for fun. For round two, I had a feeling I might get a small crowd. Lawrence was going toe to toe with a pretty-looking girl around his age.

Michael gave me a fist bump as I approached, and I whispered, “How’s Lawrence doing?”

“Not so good. I think he’ll get bounced first round,” Michael said.

I hung my head low. Lawrence didn’t deserve that.

“Game 2 goes to Amaya,” the moderator said.

Lawrence gave his opponent a fist bump, and he joined back with us.

“Ha, you just got beat by a girl,” I said. My brother immediately threw his elbow into my ribs, knocking the wind out of me.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you say that?” Michael coughed a few times. “Who cares if she’s a girl, she would probably kick your ass too!”

“Ow!” I rubbed the spot where he hit me. I wouldn’t be surprised if it left a bruise. “Dude, you hurt me.”

“I don’t care. Apologize to Lawrence right now.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s alright, man. Mike, you’ve got some competition later in this bracket. That girl Amaya reminded me of your playing style.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that; she seems better,” Michael said.

The two of them asked me how I did, and I told them all about how I won. They congratulated me and smiled while patting me on the back.

“I’m sorry I missed it, but I was up first, and I already won my match. It wasn’t too challenging, but the guy I played had some potential,” Michael said, but then he started to hack away. His cough sounded like a monster inside of him trying to thrash its way out.

People around us were starting staring at him.

Anxiety pierced my stomach, and I felt like I was falling.

Lawrence quickly put his hand on his back and guided him out. I followed close behind. My brother was coughing into his arm considerately while also trying to silence the beast.

It was hard to find a secluded area, but we found a section of empty seats. Lawrence sat my brother down amidst his coughing frenzy. “Hey man, you good? You all right?”

Michael slowed his coughing attack and uncovered his mouth. His eyes were watering, and they were red. He started sweating and his face was paler.

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“I’m fine,” he wheezed.

“I don’t think so. You’re looking a little rough, man. I know this tournament means a lot to you, but maybe you should stay home,” Lawrence said quietly.

“No, you can’t give up. You have to keep going!” I whispered, but Lawrence glared at me.

“Come on, Gordie, you know better than that. The health of your brother is far more important than this tournament. Don’t push him like that.”

I had never seen Lawrence serious like that before. Whenever we hung out, it was all smiles, laughs, rainbows, and sunshine. I took an introspective look at myself and realized that Lawrence was right, and I felt awful for treating my brother like a robot. The embarrassment of making the joke to Lawrence earlier was also eating me up.

“I’m really sorry, guys. And I’m sorry earlier as well for my joke.”

“Lawrence, he’s right. I can’t give up,” Michael spoke low, trying to quell the cough monster from rearing its hideous head again. “I can do this. Let me take it game by game.”

“Mike, c’mon, dude, you’re not in the right state of mind. You’re still sick. You should be resting.”

“Nah, man, I’m good, for real. We’ll just sit here for a moment until I have to play next.” Michael turned his hazy stare at me. “You should go over on the other side and start getting ready for your match.”

I didn’t want to leave him, but I nodded. Walking over there, all I could think about was Michael and how terrible he was feeling.

I wish there was something I could do for him.

It was impossible to focus on the next match. I was starting to worry I would get my ass kicked next game.

At my station, I met a different moderator who didn’t have much to say other than “Hello,” and confirmed I was, GordieHoward. Plugging in my ENController, I was ready to go, and not long after, my next opponent arrived. Trixter was his name. He didn’t say hello to me or anything, he plugged in his controller, and was all business.

I selected my lead-off character, Soul-Steel, and he picked Toxic-Javelin. A slender snake-like character with kelly green and bright purple metal scales. Toxic-Javelin (or T-Jav as some people called him) could throw chrome javelins and even use his javelin as a sword. However, any character with a modicum of power could easily break the javelins. They were good enough to usually block an attack or two, though. Of course, they regenerated, but the player would lose a valuable second and a half.

Trixter selected the first stage. As the game counted down from “three,” I took a deep breath and tried to completely wipe my mind of any external thought. My attention was solely dedicated to the game.

“Game one goes to GordieHoward.”

The first match felt like waking up from a deep sleep trying to remember a dream. I felt like I was on autopilot and that the game was over in a blink.

There was no way this guy would be easier than my last opponent.

I followed the same strategy as last time, kept the same character, and to my surprise, Trixter stayed the same. I selected the same stage. Trying not to get psyched out, I took a deep breath and cleared my conscience. The battle began.

It was a complete blur of sparks and shrapnel, but the game ended with Soul-Steel stabbing Toxic-Javelin, releasing a flood of sparks and Toxic-Javelin’s soul.

“Game two goes to GordieHoward.”

“No way!” I blurted.

Trixter furrowed his brow at me. “Good game,” he said. Then walked away.

“Was it me, or was that too easy?” I said to the moderator, but he furrowed his brow at me. “Sorry.”

I started walking back to my brother’s area immediately. I couldn’t believe how much easier Round 2 was.

Did I just become that much better at the game, or was it just an easier opponent that got in? It had to be the latter.

I felt awful for KitCats. He would have at least made it to Round 3 if he didn’t draw me first.

What if I could make it to Round 7? Then there was double elimination, and I’d have an even better chance at sticking around! One step at a time, though, Gordie, one step at a time... Let’s see how Michael is doing.