His eyes narrow to slits as he glares at the screen. He can feel his own fingertips trembling slightly as they hold a cigarette.

Quit the game?

He scoffs, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. It's a laugh, but there's no warmth in it. He types rapidly.

[LOL for real though, you're the one who shouldn't be playing ranked with those skills. You're a total burden to your team, seriously.]

He hits send and immediately starts typing again. Patience was never his strong suit.

[Wanna settle this IRL? Let's meet up and talk. If you can still talk that trash to my face, I'll give you props.]

After sending it, he re-reads what he wrote. IRL? For a second, he doesn't know why he typed that and shuts his eyes tight before opening them again. But the message is already sent and can't be undone—and more than anything, he refuses to lose.