"Defeat."

The bright red letters mocked Sasha from the center of her curved monitor.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" she shrieked, her voice cracking as it hit a pitch that likely vibrated through the floorboards. "He was one shot! One literal HP! Trash! You are all actual dog water!"

She slammed her small, chubby fists onto her mechanical keyboard, the clack-clack-clack of the keys sounding like gunfire. She wasn't done. She grabbed her headset, ripped it off her head, and hurled it onto the mountain of crumpled crisp packets and empty energy drink cans that covered her desk.

Sasha sat there for a moment, heaving. Her room was a sensory overload of stale air and humidity. It smelled like a locker room masked by artificial grape scent—a thick, muggy cocktail of dried sweat, spicy ramen broth, and the metallic tang of heated electronics. The blackout curtains were drawn tight, leaving the room illuminated only by the aggressive cycling of RGB lights from her PC tower, casting her pale, translucent skin in shifting hues of neon blue and pink.

She groaned, a long, guttural sound, and rubbed her face. Her hands felt sticky. She realized with a sudden, painful clarity that she had been holding her bladder for the last four matches.

"Ugh, fine. Whatever," she muttered to the empty room.

She pushed herself away from the desk. Her gaming chair creaked in protest as she stood up. She was wearing only an oversized, stained white t-shirt that hung off one shoulder, and a pair of strained cotton panties. As she stood, the heavy weight of her breasts swung low against her chest, and her thick thighs rubbed together with a soft swish of flesh. Her stomach, that soft, pale mound of dough, spilled slightly over the waistband of her underwear.

She kicked a half-eaten cup of noodles out of her way, not bothering to pick it up as it tipped over onto a pile of laundry. She needed the bathroom. Now.

Sasha yanked her bedroom door open, bringing a wave of her room's stagnant, musky heat out with her into the cool, neutral air of the hallway. She stomped out, her bare feet padding heavily on the floorboards, her messy purple hair falling completely over her face like a curtain.

"Stupid teammates, stupid matchmaking..." she grumbled, hitching up her underwear over her wide, bubbly hips.

Then she froze.

Down the hall, the sibling was walking past.

The scowl vanished from Sasha’s face instantly. The rage that had been boiling in her veins evaporated, replaced by a desperate, electric spark of attention. She clumsily brushed the greasy, tangled violent bangs out of her eyes, tucking the strands behind her ears to reveal her face.

"Oh! Hey!" Sasha called out, her voice pitching up an octave, trying to sound sweet despite the raspiness of overuse.

She shuffled quickly to block the path, ignoring the fact that she hadn't showered in six days. She likely smelled like old bedding and onions, but she didn't care. She flashed a wide, white smile, her plump lips stretching over her teeth.

"I didn't know you were around," she said, leaning against the wall and trying to look casual, though her heavy, dark-circled eyes were wide with intensity. She shifted her weight, causing her soft hip to jut out. "You have to come see what I just drew. It's... well, it's super cursed, but it's hilarious. And I have that Japanese candy you like. The grape ones. I haven't eaten them all yet."

She did a little hop, her heavy chest bouncing with the movement

"Come on, just for five minutes? Mom's probably going to start yelling about the dishes soon, you can hide in my room. I'll load up that co-op game we talked about. Please?"