Ego Check: The Game That Changes Everything Rewrite

The mall buzzed with life as Fayne strolled through the shops alongside Leah and Mira. The trio wasn't looking for anything in particular, just browsing stores and chatting casually. Leah had been animatedly talking about some new fashion trend she saw on social media, while Mira chimed in with her usual sharp opinions. Fayne, however, remained her quiet self, nodding and smiling when prompted, her mind drifting elsewhere.

They wandered into a music shop after Mira's sudden insistence to check out a CD she'd been meaning to buy. Fayne didn't mind. The cozy atmosphere of the shop, filled with soft rock playing through speakers and the occasional strum of a guitar being tested, felt like a nice change of pace. Leah and Mira headed straight for the racks of CDs, chatting loudly as they searched for Mira's coveted album.

Fayne trailed off on her own, her attention caught by a low, smooth hum coming from the back of the store. She drifted toward the instrument section, curious about the source of the sound.

There, sitting on a stool, was a girl playing a bass guitar. Her fingers moved effortlessly across the strings, producing a deep, resonant melody that seemed to fill the room. Fayne stopped in her tracks, captivated by the scene.

The girl had an aura of calm confidence, as though playing the bass came as naturally to her as breathing. Her black hair, streaked with blue, was pulled into a loose braid that fell over her shoulder, and she wore the same school uniform as Fayne and her friends. But unlike theirs, hers had been styled to reflect her personality—her tie loosened, sleeves rolled up slightly, and a casual ease in how she wore it.

Fayne's gaze lingered. The girl looked so at home with the instrument, so harmonious in the moment. It was as if nothing else in the world mattered to her but the music she was creating.

Then the girl turned. As if sensing Fayne's presence, she glanced up, and for a fleeting moment, green eyes met blue. Fayne's breath hitched. The girl's gaze wasn't sharp, but it held a quiet intensity, an awareness that made Fayne feel as though she'd been caught staring. She quickly averted her eyes, pretending to focus on a nearby display of CDs.

Her heart pounded as she tried to collect herself. She didn't expect the girl to approach.

The sound of footsteps drew closer, and Fayne's stomach twisted in anticipation. The girl stopped beside her, glancing at the CD display Fayne was absently eyeing. A faint smile tugged at her lips.

"True Damage fan?" the girl asked casually, her voice smooth and melodic.

Fayne blinked, confused at first. Then she glanced down at the CD cover she was holding. It featured five bold characters—Qiyana, Senna, Akali, Yasuo, and, at the forefront, Ekko. She recognized it immediately. True Damage - Giants, the band Raxian had been obsessed with back when they were kids. He used to talk about them all the time, especially Ekko.

Fayne didn't understand his fascination back then, but she remembered being intrigued by how passionate he was about it. Even now, with his focus shifted to climbing ranks in League, she had a feeling that band still held a special place in his heart.

"Oh…" Fayne hesitated, unsure how to respond. "Well, I've heard of their music before. Wouldn't really consider myself a fan, though."

The girl raised an eyebrow, her smile turning slightly playful. "You've heard of them, but you're not a fan? That's rare. Most people either love them or don't bother listening at all."

Fayne shrugged, feeling oddly self-conscious under the girl's gaze. "I guess their sound just isn't my thing."

The girl nodded thoughtfully, glancing back at the CD display. "Fair enough. But their lyrics? That's where the real magic is. You should give them a proper listen sometime—might surprise you."

There was something about the way she spoke—casual yet passionate—that made Fayne feel like she was missing something. Like the girl could see a world in the music that Fayne hadn't even considered.

"Maybe I will," Fayne said, her voice softer now.

The girl gave her a small nod, then turned to walk back to the instrument section. Fayne watched her go, her heart fluttering for reasons she couldn't quite explain. That was when the realization hit her.

That was Sable, wasn't it?

The image of her playing the bass, so confident and at ease, stayed with Fayne long after they left the store. She replayed the encounter in her mind, analyzing every detail—the girl's calm demeanor, her knowing smile, the way she seemed to carry herself like she belonged wherever she went.

As they continued through the mall, Fayne found herself lost in thought. That girl lingered in her mind, refusing to fade into the background like everything else. There was something magnetic about her, something that made Fayne want to know more. And the more she thought about her, the more she realized just how much she wanted their paths to cross again.

—-----------------------------------------------

Her presence was unmistakable. She wasn't someone who actively sought attention; in fact, she seemed perfectly content minding her own business, fading into the background. Yet, attention seemed to gravitate toward her naturally, like a quiet pull that couldn't be ignored.

Fayne's thoughts drifted back to gym class, the one time their parallel classes had merged. She remembered how the girl had taken the lead during the track run, effortlessly sprinting ahead of the others, her movements fluid and full of energy. For her, it seemed like every leap was a burst of competitive joy, a challenge she eagerly embraced. Fayne, on the other hand, had been struggling to keep up, her breaths labored, her legs heavy. But even in her exhaustion, she couldn't help but glance over at her.

Fayne could still picture her—athletic, graceful, and utterly in her element. And now, after seeing her in the music store, adding "musically talented" to her list of qualities, Fayne couldn't help but be awed. Sable wasn't just good at one thing; she seemed extraordinary at everything. The rumors about her being a League prodigy only added to the mystique.

"Wow," Fayne mumbled under her breath as her pencil hovered over her notebook in class. She blinked, realizing that she had subconsciously written Sable's name in the corner of the page. Her cheeks flushed as she quickly erased it, glancing around to make sure Leah and Mira hadn't noticed.

What was she doing?

Fayne sighed, slumping back in her chair as she tapped her pencil against the desk. If Sable truly was in her parallel class, why hadn't she seen her outside of that one gym lesson? How could someone so magnetic remain so elusive?

A small idea began to take root in her mind. Maybe there was a way to figure out Sable's schedule. She wasn't sure why she was so curious, but the thought of crossing paths with her again filled her with an unexplainable excitement.

But no... she couldn't. That wasn't like her at all.

Fayne shook her head, trying to push the idea away. She wasn't the reckless type, and the last thing she wanted was to come across as a stalker. This fascination, this... obsession—it wasn't normal. She had never been this fixated on anyone before, and yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the image of Sable from her mind.

Her thoughts drifted back to the music store, to the way Sable's fingers had effortlessly moved across the bass strings, the way her green eyes had met Fayne's with a calm intensity that made her heart race. The memory lingered, vivid and unshakable, like a melody she couldn't stop replaying.

What was it about her?

Fayne's pencil stilled in her hand as she let out another quiet sigh. Whatever it was, it wasn't going away anytime soon.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

Ever since the clash tournament, Raxian had found himself playing more and more games with AkarisLite. Their synergy on the Rift was undeniable, and it wasn't long before he added the other two members from their clash team—IronVanguard, the support, and GrimPath, the jungler—to his friend list. With Raze completing the group, they now had a full five-man team, something that felt exciting and new for Raxian, who was used to the unpredictable chaos of solo queue.

What stood out to Raxian, though, was how the team communicated. Unlike his usual games with Raze, where voice comms were filled with laughter, banter, and trash talk, this group stuck to text. Pings and quick, concise chat messages made up the entirety of their communication during games.

At first, it was strange for Raxian. He wasn't used to playing without hearing his teammates' voices, especially in such intense games. But as they played together more, he realized that the lack of voice comms didn't seem to hinder their coordination. In fact, it almost added an air of mystery, especially when it came to AkarisLite.

One evening, after an especially satisfying victory, Raxian felt bold enough to probe a little. The group was chatting in the post-game lobby, discussing their next match, when he decided to ask:

"So, do you guys ever use voice comms? Or is it just a preference thing?"

There was a pause before IronVanguard replied in chat:

IronVanguard: We've always stuck to text. Easier to focus that way.

GrimPath: Yeah, less noise, more clarity.

AkarisLite: Text works just fine, don't you think?

Raxian hesitated, typing and erasing his response a few times before settling on something neutral.

TimeWrapped: Yeah, I guess. Just curious, that's all.

Despite the short exchange, Raxian couldn't help but wonder more about them. What did their voices sound like? Did AkarisLite have the confident tone he imagined? Or was it something completely different? There was so much he didn't know about them, and the more they played together, the more intrigued he became.

It wasn't long after that IronVanguard revealed a bit of history about the team. During one of their matches, between jungle invades and carefully timed ganks, Raxian casually mentioned how well they worked together.

"You guys seem to have a lot of experience," he typed. "Have you been playing together for long?"

IronVanguard: Yeah, a while back. We were all on the same team before. Ascendant Force.

GrimPath: Those were the days.

Raxian blinked at the name. He didn't know much about the competitive scene, but he'd heard of Ascendant Force before in passing. They weren't one of the biggest names, but they had made waves in the community during their time.

TimeWrapped: Wait, you guys were on Ascendant Force? That's insane.

IronVanguard: Yeah, we had a good run, but things fell apart. People moved on, life got in the way, you know how it is.

TimeWrapped: So AkarisLite was on the team too?

IronVanguard: Yep. One of the best top laners I've ever played with.

Raxian stared at the screen, his curiosity burning brighter than ever. AkarisLite had been part of a competitive team? That explained so much—their skill level, their tactical approach, the calm, commanding way they played every game. But it also raised more questions. What had caused the team to split? Why was AkarisLite playing on an alt account instead of their main? And most importantly, would they ever consider competing again?

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, debating whether to ask more, but something stopped him. IronVanguard didn't seem like the type to delve into personal details, and Raxian respected that. Instead, he decided to focus on what lay ahead.

If AkarisLite had been part of a competitive team before, maybe they'd be open to doing it again. Raxian had heard about a big tournament coming up at the end of the year—a perfect opportunity to test their skills as a team. It was just an idea for now, but the thought of competing alongside AkarisLite, Raze, IronVanguard, and GrimPath was enough to spark a sense of excitement in him.

Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something bigger.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

Rain tapped steadily on the pavement as Raxian trudged down the street, his hoodie pulled up to shield him from the drizzle. A package for his dad weighed in his hand—a task he begrudgingly agreed to handle, only because his mom had asked. His dad could've done it himself after work, couldn't he? But no, of course not. Raxian sighed, his breath visible in the cool, damp air.

The rain didn't bother him much; it gave the streets a serene, muted quality, the usual noise of the city muffled under the gray skies. He was about to round the corner toward home when a figure caught his eye—a splash of floral fabric against the dull backdrop.

It was Fayne.

Her presence surprised him, though it shouldn't have. They lived in the same city, attended the same class, and yet, their paths rarely crossed outside of school. She was heading in the opposite direction, her umbrella snapping open as she stepped onto the rainy sidewalk. A flowery sweater peeked out beneath her raincoat, paired with stockings and denim shorts. She seemed lost in thought, her movements automatic as she navigated the wet streets.

Raxian froze mid-step, unsure whether to call out to her or keep walking. Honestly, he didn't know why he even hesitated. It wasn't like they talked much—or at all, really. Their lives barely intersected beyond the confines of their classroom.

He watched her for a moment, the rain creating a soft haze around her. She didn't seem to notice him, her gaze distant, her posture weighed down as if something was troubling her. She didn't even react when something slipped from her pocket and fell to the ground, fluttering slightly before landing in a shallow puddle.

Fayne kept walking, completely unaware.

Raxian frowned. He wasn't one to pry, but letting her lose something wasn't right either. He jogged over, crouching down to pick up the item before it could get soaked. It was... a note? His eyes flickered over the smudged paper, and what he saw made him pause.

"Sable."

The name was scrawled on the paper, plain and unmistakable. His brow furrowed as his grip tightened on the note. Why would Fayne have Sable's name written down? Was she looking for her? Did she know her?

His mind raced with questions, none of which he could answer by standing there in the rain. Decision made, Raxian tucked the note carefully into his pocket and hurried to catch up to Fayne.

"Hey! Fayne!" he called, his voice cutting through the rhythmic patter of the rain.

Fayne stopped, startled. She turned around, her blue eyes widening slightly when she saw him. "Oh... Raxian? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, jogging to her side. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled the note from his pocket. "You, uh, dropped this."

Her expression shifted, a mix of surprise and something else—unease?—crossing her face. "Oh," she murmured, taking the note from his hand. "Thanks."

Raxian tilted his head, studying her reaction. "Didn't mean to peek or anything, but... why do you have Sable's name written down?"

Fayne's eyes widened further, and for a moment, she looked like a deer caught in headlights. "I... it's nothing," she said quickly, stuffing the note back into her pocket. "Just... something I was working on."

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Working on? Like what? I didn't think you were into League or anything."

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, gripping her umbrella tightly. "I'm not. It's not about that."

The way her voice wavered told him otherwise, but he decided to ease off. "Alright, fair enough," he said casually. "Just thought it was kind of interesting. You don't really seem like the type to think about Sable."

She glanced at him sharply, her lips parting as if to protest, but no words came out. Instead, she let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. "Look, it's really not a big deal. Just... drop it, okay?"

Raxian frowned but nodded. "Fine. But... you okay?"

The question seemed to catch her off guard, her gaze softening slightly as she looked at him. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just... got a lot on my mind."

For a moment, he thought about pushing further, about asking why she seemed so distracted, but something in her tone stopped him. Instead, he gave her a small nod. "Alright. But, y'know, if you ever need someone to talk to... I'm not as annoying as I used to be."

That earned him a small smile, one that felt both genuine and fleeting. "Thanks, Raxian. I'll keep that in mind."

With that, Fayne turned and continued down the street, her umbrella bobbing slightly as she disappeared into the rain. Raxian watched her go, the image of the note still lingering in his mind.

Sable, huh? Whatever was going on, it seemed like Fayne was more connected to that name than she was letting on. And for reasons he couldn't quite explain, Raxian found himself more curious than ever.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Fayne?" her mother called out, her voice echoing softly through the house as she unlocked the front door. "You're back? So, how did it go?"

Fayne was in the middle of hanging up her raincoat when her mother's words registered. She hesitated for a moment, caught off guard, before forcing a smile and turning to face her. "It went fine," she replied lightly, brushing some damp hair away from her face. "No big deal."

Her mom looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and warmth, clearly not entirely convinced by the casual response. "Sure seems like the rain is here to stay today, doesn't it?" she said, switching topics as she set her umbrella in the stand. "How about we bake something together to lighten the mood?"

Fayne almost groaned at the thought of a baking session, but the soft, hopeful look on her mom's face made her cave. "Alright," she relented with a small shrug, "but only if it's brownies."

Her mother beamed. "You've got a deal."

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

After an hour of mixing, laughing, and the warm aroma of chocolate filling the kitchen, Fayne sat at the table with a warm brownie in hand. Her mom's special recipe never failed to hit the spot, even on days like this. But even as the sweetness melted on her tongue, Fayne's thoughts were elsewhere.

Once the kitchen was tidied up, she excused herself and headed up to her room. As she closed the door behind her, a sense of calm washed over her. Her bedroom was her sanctuary—neatly organized, with a cozy and inviting atmosphere that never failed to comfort her. The purple wallpaper gave the room a soft, dreamlike hue, while her bookshelf brimmed with fantasy novels, their spines worn with love. A potted plant sat by the window, its green leaves thriving under her careful care, and her fluffy white carpet made the space feel even cozier.

Her bed, her favorite spot in the house, was adorned with a collection of plush pillows and a thick, warm blanket that she loved to wrap herself in. Nestled among them was a stuffed rabbit she'd had since she was a child, its white fur speckled with brown spots and its button-like brown eyes staring back at her. The rabbit's color always reminded her of Milo—calm, grounded, and steadfast.

Fayne collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, sinking into the soft cushions as the steady rhythm of the rain against her windowpane filled the room. The sound was soothing, like a lullaby lulling her thoughts into order. But instead of relaxing, her mind kept replaying the events of the afternoon.

Raxian.

The encounter had felt surreal, like stepping into an alternate reality. He hadn't seemed his usual confident, loud self, and yet... he'd taken the initiative to talk to her. That alone felt unusual. Fayne frowned, staring at the ceiling. Would he have even noticed her if she hadn't dropped the note? That stupid note. She still didn't know how it had slipped out of her pocket.

And yet, her thoughts weren't just circling around Raxian. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't shake the image of Sable. The girl's effortless grace, her magnetic presence—it was all Fayne could think about. She desperately wanted to meet her again, to hear her voice, to know more about her. But how? How could she even start?

The rain continued its steady rhythm as Fayne hugged the stuffed rabbit closer, her mind swirling with questions she didn't have the answers to.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

And so it happened, by chance. Fayne sat on a bench along the river that cut through the heart of the city. The gray skies had been hanging low for days now, a canopy of clouds that refused to break. There was no rain in sight, but the air was thick with the promise of it—a dark, bitter atmosphere that seemed to mirror her mood perfectly. Everything felt muted, as if the world had lost its vibrancy, leaving only shadows of what once was.

Her thoughts wandered aimlessly, her gaze fixed on the rippling water. She hugged her knees close to her chest, resting her chin on them. The interaction she had with Sable played on a loop in her mind, vivid yet fleeting. Even though it had been brief, Sable had left a mark that Fayne couldn't shake. Every detail of her—the sound of her voice, the way she carried herself, that magnetic presence—lingered like a melody she couldn't stop humming.

And then, as if the universe had heard her thoughts and decided to answer, there she was.

At first, Fayne didn't notice her. Lost in her own melancholy, she didn't pay attention to the approaching footsteps or the faint sound of the grass crunching beneath them. But when a voice broke through the stillness, she froze.

"You've seen better days, haven't you?"

The voice was unmistakable. Low and smooth, with a hint of warmth hidden beneath its casual tone. Fayne turned her head slowly, almost afraid to confirm what her heart already knew.

Sable.

She stood there for a moment before sitting down beside Fayne on the bench, her movements unhurried and natural. She wore a dark hoodie over her school uniform, her braided hair draped casually over one shoulder. Her green eyes studied Fayne with quiet curiosity, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Fayne's mind raced, but her body didn't move. She wasn't sure what to say—or if she could say anything at all. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she prayed Sable wouldn't notice the flush creeping up her neck.

Sable leaned back, resting her elbows on the bench's edge, her gaze shifting to the river. "This spot's not bad," she said, her voice light but thoughtful. "Good for clearing your head."

Fayne managed to nod, her voice caught somewhere between her thoughts and her throat. She glanced sideways at Sable, who seemed completely at ease, as though she hadn't just made Fayne's pulse race with a single sentence.

"You come here often?" Sable asked, turning her head slightly to look at her.

Fayne swallowed hard, forcing herself to respond. "Not really," she said quietly, her words barely audible over the faint rush of the river. "I just... needed some air."

Sable nodded, her expression understanding. "Yeah, I get that. Sometimes it feels like the city just... closes in on you, you know?"

Fayne blinked, surprised by the sentiment. She hadn't expected Sable to share something so... relatable. "Yeah," she replied softly. "It does."

For a moment, they sat in silence, the only sounds being the gentle flow of the river and the distant hum of the city. Fayne dared a glance at Sable, who was watching the water with a far-off look in her eyes. There was something almost peaceful about her presence, as if she carried her own calm wherever she went.

"You seemed lost in thought earlier," Sable said suddenly, her gaze flicking back to Fayne. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

Fayne hesitated, her mind racing for a response. She couldn't exactly blurt out the truth—that she'd been thinking about Sable nonstop since the music store. Instead, she gave a small, nervous laugh. "Just... school stuff. You know how it is."

Sable raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but not pressing the issue. "Sure," she said with a smirk. "School stuff."

The corner of Fayne's mouth twitched upward despite herself. There was something disarming about Sable's demeanor, like she had a way of cutting through the noise and making everything feel a little lighter. For the first time in days, Fayne felt a hint of warmth seep into the gloom that had settled over her.

"Hey," Sable said, leaning forward slightly, her elbows on her knees. "If you ever need to vent, I'm around. Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone who's not in the middle of it with you."

Fayne's chest tightened at the unexpected offer. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks."

Sable stood, stretching her arms above her head. "Well, I should get going," she said, her tone easy. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Fayne nodded again, watching as Sable turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the distance. Even after she disappeared, her presence lingered, filling the empty space she had left behind.

Fayne exhaled, her breath visible in the chilly air. The encounter had been brief, but it felt like a small spark in the middle of a gray, endless day. She leaned back against the bench, her gaze returning to the river.

Maybe, just maybe, things weren't so gloomy after all.

Sable seemed to appear when Fayne least expected it. It was fitting, really—her unpredictable nature, the way she seemed to drift into moments as if she belonged there all along. And yet, Fayne couldn't help but wish it was easier to find her. That she didn't have to rely on chance encounters to see her again. It was as though Sable existed in her own world, one that Fayne could only catch glimpses of when the stars aligned.

There was something magnetic about her unpredictability, a charm in her spontaneity that left Fayne simultaneously captivated and frustrated. She never knew when, or if, their paths would cross again. And every time Sable vanished, it left Fayne yearning for more.

She sighed, her gaze lingering on the path Sable had taken. The fleeting interactions weren't enough—not anymore. Fayne wanted to understand her, to figure out what made Sable so effortlessly captivating. But how could she, when Sable seemed to float just out of reach, like a melody she couldn't quite catch?

Maybe that was the point, Fayne thought. Maybe Sable wasn't meant to be predictable. Maybe part of her allure was the way she always seemed to arrive like a sudden breeze, stirring up Fayne's thoughts and leaving her wondering where she'd gone.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

Fayne sat at her desk, staring at the blank page in her journal, the pen hovering above it like a weight she wasn't sure she could lift. Who could she even turn to about this? Would anyone understand? She suspected these feelings—despite their unexplainable nature—had to be some sort of... crush. Was she crushing on someone? And not just anyone—a girl? How could that be possible? She'd never felt this way about anyone before. Never this intensity, this endless cycle of thoughts she couldn't shake.

Her chest felt tight as the realization sank in. It was both thrilling and terrifying. What did it even mean? Did it mean anything at all? Fayne wasn't sure if she wanted answers or if she just wanted the feelings to go away.

In her frustration, she reached for a familiar distraction: League of Legends. Her mind briefly circled back to Raxian. Was she mirroring his habits now? Gaming to escape, to quiet her thoughts? She queued up for another match, her fingers instinctively moving to lock in her favorite support champions. One game turned into two, then three, and before she knew it, she was on a winning streak that brought her to Gold I.

Milo had congratulated her progress, his words encouraging as always. "You're doing amazing, Fayne. Keep this up, and I'm sure you'll climb even higher," he'd said. But that wasn't really her goal, was it? She wasn't playing to climb. She was playing to escape. And while League provided a temporary distraction, it couldn't silence the thoughts that kept circling back to Sable.

At last, she couldn't take it anymore. Fayne closed the game and pushed her chair back, pacing her room. She didn't want to talk to anyone about this—not Leah, not Mira, not even Milo. But maybe… maybe she could write about it. At least she could journal her feelings, right? No one else had to see it.

She sat back down, the pen trembling slightly in her hand as she pressed it to the page. At first, the words were hesitant, disjointed, but soon they began to flow.

"I don't know what's happening to me. She's everywhere in my thoughts, even when she's not around. Her voice, her presence, the way she carries herself—it's like she's carved into my mind, and I can't shake her. I don't know if it's a crush, or just fascination, or something else entirely. All I know is that I feel drawn to her in a way I've never felt about anyone before."

Fayne paused, staring at the words, her heart pounding. She took a deep breath and kept writing.

"I don't even know her. Not really. But there's something about her—something magnetic, something that feels untouchable yet so… close. It's like she exists in her own world, and I can only catch glimpses of it. I want to know her. I want to understand her. But what if this is just me being stupid? What if I'm building her up into something she's not?"

The words spilled out faster now, raw and unfiltered.

"I've never felt like this before. Not about anyone. It's confusing and overwhelming, and I don't know what to do with it. But I can't keep pretending it's not there. I just wish I knew what it meant."

Fayne set the pen down, her hands shaking slightly. The weight on her chest felt a little lighter now, the thoughts that had been swirling around finally given form. She closed the journal, her heart still racing, but at least she felt like she could breathe again.

For now, this was enough. Just her and her thoughts, safely tucked away where no one else could see.