For weeks, the pattern was the same.
We’d sign up for a Rocket League tournament in the evening, usually the duos, just the two of us. Before we started he’d say some version of “I’m going to get you a tournament win tonight.” Then we’d lose in the first round and he’d be devastated. Not just frustrated the way you get when a game doesn’t go your way. Actually devastated. Because he wasn’t just trying to win. He was trying to give me something.
He’d already won a tournament with his friend. He knew what it felt like. He wanted me to have that.
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