I don't think I'm stupid or an idiot.

-Shoots Kayle.

However, in my life, every time I try to give my all to something...

-Oh, boy. Look to your right. How did you not see this coming?

I end up failing miserably and losing faith in my talent.

-Damn. We lost again.

-We're going down a league now.

-It's all Kayle's fault.

There's nothing I can say. Eliot missed all his shots. François didn't kill anyone and I'm the only one who hit the boss. However, in everything I do, there's always someone stronger than me. Indirectly, this is also one of the reasons why I've lost so many times.

-Don't worry, Kayle. They didn't do any good. Join my team next year and we'll be better. I guarantee it.

That person is Charles. Charles Venkclerk has always been the number one in gaming. No one has ever reached his level in the country. But here I am. I don't think I'm inferior to him, but people don't see it the same way. Charles shines like no one else in his field, and I'm a shadow. The shadow of the greats. And yet, I've already beaten Charles in a game.

-Yeah, don't worry.

Nobody talks about it. I'm obviously not going to join his group next year. When I play under pressure, my level drops. But the competition is always under pressure. That's just the way it is. I hate this side of me that refuses to be challenged in front of the champions. I get stressed and never reach my true level. That's just the way it is.

-Do you want me to walk you home? We're going for a fry.

-You don't have to. Go home without me.

I also hate strong people who are nice to you after a defeat. To me, it's hypocrisy. However, I won't hide the fact that I'm often the first to pretend to hide my joy at a victory to appear humble. The difference with Charles is that I quickly forget this part of myself when it comes to remembering who I am.

I've walked down this street many times. The light-brown cobblestones burning in the sun. The cats and rats fighting in the darker alleyways, the people on bikes saying hello to the first person they see, the tall buildings adorning the street to show man's pride... It all sickens me. I've lost and the world doesn't care. I'm one of the strongest and most complete people in the world and here I am complaining about my defeat. I should never lose. I shouldn't even imagine losing to Charles or anyone else. I am...I am....

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I'm nobody. That's why I lost.

My apartment is here. In this five-storey building that's average for an average person like me. This is it, the depression after defeat. It takes a moment to realize, a moment to rage and then you cry. But I haven't cried for a long time over a passion. I've given up a lot of them. My mother used to remind me:

-You have a lot of talent. But unfortunately for you, it's everywhere. You don't know what to do with it and you end up rambling. You give up and say you can do anything anyway.

She was right. I give up too quickly. However, every time I give up, I think it's the moment when I've reached rock bottom. I know that's not true. I know it and I keep going. I know it but...

A red light struck Kayle in hir sleep. His bed was not far from his kitchen and living room. Everything was connected in his little apartment, and yet it felt like home. There was no better place for him. However, this red light was about to take him away from his comfort and reassurance. He opened his eyes in what first seemed like a dream.

-What the... This isn't my living room. Where am I?

-Hello

Who is this guy? He thinks he's funny, making jokes in the morning? Could it be a member of Charles' team that I ended up sleeping with? I thought I'd slept in my apartment. Black hair turning white at the ends, a rather cheerful and proud face, dressed like a bartender, rather good-looking...I hate good-looking people. Why is he leaning over me like that?

-Did you sleep well?

-You just ruined it.

-I like the way you act. You're my favorite, Kayle Landers.

This guy knows my name. Maybe I've finally been recognized. But I'm not the only one in this weird room. By the way, where are we? The walls are white with blue lines. We're all on one bed. There are three girls and three boys. A social experiment? I never signed up for this.

-Where are we? Who are you people?

-Why are we here?

He's screaming. He's screaming. I hate people who shout first thing in the morning. Nevertheless, I also want to know what I'm doing here.

-Relax. Quiet, please. I didn't bring you here for nothing. You're going to be very special people to me.

-What's this guy talking about? I'm going to paint him again.

Why is there always one hot-blooded guy in these stories? He'd better calm down and...

The show had gone too fast. The man who had just charged the strange kidnapper now had no head. At least, it was rolling on the ground a few feet away. This was a first for Kayle. As much as he'd said he'd always be prepared for this in case it happened, he wasn't ready for this day.

Damn. What's that? He just had his head cut off, but we didn't see it coming. I didn't even see him move. This is a dream, isn't it? It has to be.

-Damn. I'm sorry, girls. As I've just eliminated a candidate from the boys' group, I'll have to remove one from yours.

He's not kidding. I thought he was a nice guy but there's nothing wrong with him. How can he...

-It seems you still believe it's a dream. I'll help you get that silly thought out of your head.

Without a word, for no one could speak. He disappeared and suddenly reappeared behind one of the three girls.

I still haven't seen him.

He took her head in his hands and crushed it under the pressure. Blood splattered onto the clothes of the two ladies next to him, and Kayle received some on his cheek.

That feeling... This time, I can be sure.... This is no dream.

-You're going to listen to me.