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Loading Screen: Beginning the Quest

Jace Rivers sat cross-legged on his bed, the glow of his laptop screen casting a pale light across the posters on his wall–pixel art, game maps, and a fading pride flag thumb-tacked in the corner. It was 2:04a.m., and sleep wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

His hoodie sleeves were stretched over his hands as he stared blankly at the "Welcome to your Student Portal!" email. He'd read it five times already. Game Design – September 2025. It was official. Real.

He should've been excited–he was excited–but the nervous buzz in his chest made it hard to tell where excitement ended and anxiety began.

He minimized the window and opened a tab he wasn't proud of: "Do I have ADHD – teen version." He'd done it a dozen times in the past few months, each time scoring high enough to make him pause, then closing the tab like it never happened.

His brain was a mess of tabs lately.

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Seventeen and still feeling like a loading screen. Some days, everything felt pixelated and slow, like he was waiting for something to render that never would. And some days, like today, there was a flicker of something better.

His phone buzzed beside him. A discord ping.

Leo: yo u awake

Jace: yeah

Leo: ezra says sky is making another lore doc lmao. Its l14 pages

Ezra: its actually 13. and its GOOD

Sky: :)

Maya: group call?

Jace smiled, a small one, the kind that made his chest feel warm for just a second. He slipped his headphones on and clicked "Joined Call."

Static. Laughter. Leo shouting over someone's mic. Maya trying to calm them down while also giggling. Ezra's dry sarcasm already mid-rant about some broken mechanic in a new beta game. Sky, quiet in the background, typing.

Jace didn't say much at first–he rarely did–but just being there helped. It made the noise in his head less sharp.

After an hour of chaos, the call died down. Just him and Ezra were left.

"You nervous about September?" Ezra asked, voice low and crackling through the mic.

"Kinda. Mostly confused. About... everything."

"Yeah. That's valid."

"You ever feel like you're stuck, but also moving too fast?"

"Constantly," Ezra said. "But like, you're not broken, Jace. You're just figuring stuff out. Everyone is. You're just honest about it."

Jace didn't reply right away. But that stuck with him. You;re not broken.

The next morning, his man knocked twice before opening the door. "Breakfast's ready. You should come down."

"I'm not hungry," Jace mumbled into his pillow.

"You still need food," she said gently. "And... the college letter came. Physical one."

That got him to sit up.

The letter was on the kitchen counter, unopened. The logo looked cooler in print than it did on the website–bold, geometric, and unfamiliar. He picked it up. His heart thudded.

He didn't open it right away.

Instead, he looked out the window. Beyond the glass, the world looked ordinary–clouds moving slowly, Ollie bouncing a ball on the driveway, a cat slinking through the garden like a shadow.

But something was changing. He could feel it. Not fixed, not perfect, but beginning.

He slid his finger under the envelope flap and took a breath.