By week two, the newness had started to wear off.
The walk to college was familiar. The halls didn't feel like a maze any more. Even the vending machine had stopped eating his coins. But inside, Jace's head, things were not smooth.
Assignments were coming in–small ones, sure, but they felt like boulders. His to-do list was a chaotic mess of half-started tasks and doodles in the margins. He'd opened the game engine software five times that week and closed it five times after starting at the welcome screen like it was mocking him.
He couldn't focus. Couldn't start. Couldn't explain why.
That Tuesday, the class was working on level design basics. Everyone else seemed to be clicking away, dragging tiles, laying out maps like it was nothing.
Jace's screen was still blank.
His brain was making noise–too many thoughts all stacked on top of each other:
Why is this so hard?
Everyone else is faster.
You're not cut out for this.
Maybe you just suck at everything.
He tapped his pen against the desk, trying to break through the fog, but it only made him more restless. His jaw was tight. His hands kept twitching. He wasn't even sure he'd heard the last three things the teacher said.
Robin leaned over and glanced at his screen. "You stuck?"
Jace nodded but didn't look up. "Yeah. I dunno. I just... can't."
Robin didn't laugh or act confused. They just nodded. "This happens to me too. Want help breaking it down?"
Jace hesitated. "I should be able to do it myself."
"Yeah," Robin said softly. "But it's okay if you can't Doesn't mean you're failing."
Jace blinked. Something about the way they said it–so casual, so not a big deal–made him feel less like the world was collapsing.
Robin pulled out a sticky note and jotted a list:
Tile map open
One rectangle room
Add exit door
Run level
"There," they said. "That's a start."
Jace stared at it. It was so simple when it was broken down.
He nodded. "Thanks."
That night, Jace didn't jointhe group chat call.
He lay in bed, headphones on, music playing softly, and just... existed. That was all he could manage.
His phone buzzed.
Ezra: you okay?
Jace: rough day
Ezra: want space or want memes
Jace: memes
Ezra: say less
A stream of ridiculous videos followed. No advice. No pressure to talk. Just presence.
Later, as he tried again to fall asleep, Jace whispered into the dark:
"I'm not broken. I'm just figuring it our."
And even though his brain didn't fully believe it yet, it was something. A start.
YOU ARE READING
Loading New World
Teen FictionSeventeen-year-old Jace Rivers is starting a new game - literally and figuratively. He's a quiet, trans boy navigating the noise of a world that often misunderstands him. Struggling with possible ADHD, identity questions, and the constant feeling of...
