THUD!
A loud crash echoed as a figure toppled backward from his chair.
"Ughh… fuck! My back…" Raj groaned, clutching his spine.
The room was pitch-dark, the only glow coming from his PC screen. On it, glaring in bold red letters:
[ GAME OVER. PLEASE TRY AGAIN. ]
Raj exhaled slowly, dragging himself up. He set the chair back upright with sluggish movements, as though even that was too much effort.
This was Raj, twenty years old, living alone in a cramped apartment in Delhi. His life could only be described as… miserable, yet not quite. A lazy bum drifting through each day.
His father had remarried just two days after Raj's mother passed away. That betrayal carved a wound so deep that Raj never forgave him. Instead of being allowed to grieve, he was packed off to Delhi under the excuse of preparing for the UPSC, India's most prestigious civil service exam.
Raj, however, had no intention of honoring his father's plans. He hated his father, yes—but more than that, he hated himself. He couldn't protect his mother when she was alive, and now she was gone forever.
His stepmother had two younger children—Priya, twelve, and Rohan, eleven. Being around that "new family" suffocated him. So he agreed to come to Delhi, if only to escape them.
Though Raj never hated them. His stepmother wasn't cruel, nor did she ever mistreat him. Yet he knew—deep in his heart—that no mother could ever pour the same warmth into another woman's child as she did into her own blood. Love like that was instinctive, unshakable, and Raj had long accepted that he could never truly be part of it. Especially when the woman he now called "mother" was once the shadow of his father's former wife—his own mother.
But Raj was no child anymore. He had grown into a man, and with adulthood came a bitter clarity. He understood these truths, understood the nature of people, families, attachments. And because of that clarity, he had quietly stepped back from the circle, no longer yearning for a place at their table.
Even his step-siblings—innocent, bright-eyed—had never given him reason for resentment. They adored him in their little ways, their soft voices calling him "Bhaiya"—the Indian word for elder brother—full of trust and affection. Priya, the youngest, clung to him the most, her laughter and questions following him like sunlight. They looked up to him as if he were their guardian, their guide.
And yet, in Raj's chest, there lingered a hollow ache. Their love was real, but it was different. Not the same. Not what he had once known, and not what he had lost.
But once here, instead of studying, Raj wasted his life. His father's wealth had secured him a seat in one of the city's most reputed universities, but academics meant nothing to him. His true passion—his only escape—was video games.
Not just any games. VRMMORPGs—Virtual Reality Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games. Mostly developed by Japanese and Chinese studios, they were dubbed by fans as the "Isekai games." Worlds where losers in reality could become heroes, conquerors, or even gods.
Raj spent his nights lost in those fantasies. When not playing, he devoured web novels. His favorite genres? Harem, transmigration, and of course… smut. He especially loved stories featuring mature women—MILFs, as the online communities called them.
In fiction, Raj was everything he could never be in reality.
Coming back to the present…
After grinding away at the game for seven straight hours, Raj finally pulled himself away from the screen. If only he had studied with the same dedication… but alas.
With sluggish steps, he flicked on the light switch. The dim yellow bulb buzzed faintly, throwing a tired glow over his cramped apartment. He shuffled toward the wardrobe, where a full-length mirror was attached to the old almirah.
"Fuck… I look so pathetic," he muttered.
And he wasn't wrong.
Raj was tall—easily six feet—but there was nothing impressive about his body. No muscle, no fitness, just a lanky frame weighed down by neglect. His face was above average, maybe even good-looking once upon a time, but now it was dulled by fatigue. Dark circles like bruises hung under his eyes, proof of countless sleepless nights.
How many times had he promised himself he would change? If not study, then at least the gym. No masturbation, no porn, no games, no novels. A clean slate. A new life.
Yet every time, the loop dragged him back in—chains he couldn't break. Chains that bound not just him, but millions of teens and adults these days.
His hand drifted to his stomach, and it let out a low growl.
"I'm starving… damn it."
Starving was nothing new. His eating schedule was as wrecked as the rest of his lifestyle. With a sigh, he dragged himself into the tiny kitchen, opened the fridge door—only to find… emptiness.
One onion. That was it.
"Damn it… I'll have to go to the market," Raj muttered.
Normally, he ordered groceries online. But today was a national holiday, which meant all courier services were shut down. Maybe even the stores were closed too—but starvation pushed him out of the house anyway.
He was still in his pajamas, a thin t-shirt hanging loose over his skinny frame, paired with baggy trousers. On his feet, he slipped into a worn pair of chappals. No shoes—he preferred slippers, like most Indians did.
He trudged down the narrow apartment staircase, hair messy and sticking out in all directions. He couldn't care less about appearances.
Outside, the air was heavy with smog. Delhi's notorious traffic roared along the main road, a symphony of blaring horns, exhaust fumes, and shouting drivers. Add in the sheer weight of population and pollution—it was the chaos Delhi was famous for.
Raj didn't mind. He walked slowly along the footpath, weaving through the crowds, his mind numb.
After ten minutes, he reached his usual grocery store—only to find the shutters down.
"Fuck… seems like today really isn't my day," he grumbled.
With no choice, he dragged himself further ahead. All the smaller corner shops were shut for the holiday, which meant the nearest open departmental store was another ten-minute walk.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spotted one with its shutters rolled up and lights glowing. Relief washed over him as he stepped inside and quickly picked up the essentials—rice, flour, eggs, a few vegetables. Enough to keep him alive for a while.
Stepping out of the store with a plastic bag of groceries in hand, Raj walked back in the direction of his apartment when his smartphone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out and froze. Father.
His first instinct was to ignore it. But then he remembered—the monthly money. If he didn't pick up, the funds would be cut. With a sigh, he swiped the screen.
"Hello, Raj," came the deep, commanding voice on the other end. "Where are you? Did you go to college today? And how's your preparation going? Are you studying properly?"
Raj's lips twitched. He wanted to curse, to hang up. Instead, he forced his voice steady.
"Father, today college is closed because of the national holiday. And… yes, preparation is going well," he lied flatly.
"Good." His father's tone softened only slightly. "I'm coming this Saturday to see how you're doing."
Raj froze mid-step. His heart thudded.
"W-What? Father, you don't need to come. I'm fine, really—" he stammered.
"No, no. I'll check with my own eyes. Saturday. Be ready."
TOOT.
The call ended, leaving only the dial tone echoing in Raj's ears. His grip tightened around the phone.
A headache throbbed behind his temples.
"Ah, goddamn it… here he goes again. Why can't he just leave me alone?" Raj muttered bitterly, shoving the phone back into his pocket.
Raj rubbed his temples and kept walking, lost in his own thoughts—thoughts no one else could see.
That was when he noticed a little girl, no more than eight or nine, bouncing a ball on the footpath. Her mother stood nearby, distracted, chatting on her phone without a care.
The girl kicked too hard. The ball bounced, rolled… and shot straight onto the busy road.
To Raj's shock, the girl dashed after it.
The road wasn't as cramped as usual, but vehicles still tore through at deadly speed. A pickup van was barreling down, its horn blaring. The girl stood frozen, reaching for her ball.
Raj's heart dropped.
Without thinking, he flung his grocery bag aside—vegetables scattering across the pavement—and sprinted with every ounce of strength his body had. His legs burned, muscles straining as if this one run demanded more than his entire life had ever given.
"HEY! GET BACK!" he roared, but the girl didn't hear him.
Her mother finally looked up from her phone, face paling with horror, but it was too late.
Raj reached her in seconds. He scooped the little girl into his arms and, with a desperate grunt, hurled her back toward the footpath. She landed just beside her mother, who immediately clutched her tight, eyes wide with terror, heart pounding in her throat.
The girl blinked, trembling, her gaze locked on Raj.
And Raj smiled through his ragged breath. Thank God… she's safe.
He turned to jump clear—
But his legs wouldn't move. He had burned everything in that one sprint. His body simply refused. Humans weren't built to push beyond their limits like that.
WHAMMM!!!
The impact came like a freight train. Raj's vision exploded into white pain as his bones shattered, skin split, and muscle tore apart. His body was thrown like a ragdoll across the asphalt, blood painting the road in a crimson arc.
He couldn't even scream.
The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the mother sobbing into her daughter's hair, the little girl staring at him with wide, tearful eyes.
Raj's body lay sprawled on the asphalt, blood spilling out and pooling beneath him, a dark, growing stain against the grey road.
The traffic had slowed to a crawl and then stopped entirely as people began to gather. A circle of onlookers formed—some shocked, some whispering, some simply staring.
The mother and daughter sat frozen on the footpath, clinging to each other. No one could guess what they were thinking. Tears streamed down both their faces in silence.
Raj lay there, vision blurring, sounds growing distant.
Ah… at least dying this way is better than dying alone in that crappy apartment, playing games all day…
Sorry, Mother. I couldn't become the man you wanted me to be…
His lips twitched into the faintest smile. Darkness closed in.
Thanks for reading.....