Chapter 1: The Betrayal

On the last day of the free agency window, the manager tossed a contract onto the table in front of me. The conference room was freezing, AC blasting like they wanted to chill me into submission. My fingers twitched under the table. Every instinct screamed to push back, but all I managed was a slow exhale.

"You can re-sign for less money, or we're cutting you. Your call."

The paper made a soft slap as it landed—some official letterhead, all crisp lines and threatening fine print. It smelled faintly of printer toner and coffee. I stared at the manager’s hand, veins popping, the same hand that used to clap my shoulder after every win. Now, it wouldn’t even meet my eyes.

"Think it over. There’s a lot of hungry rookies out there who’ll play for half what you’re making."

Even my teammates urged me to just go along with it.

They shuffled by in the hallway, eyes darting, giving weak smiles. A couple of them muttered, "Just sign it, Calm. It’s not worth the fight." Some wouldn’t even look at me. Their eyes slid away like I was contagious. It stung more than any trash talk I’d ever heard online. The silence after they spoke felt heavier than any loss on stage.

What a joke. If I were the type to back down, would I still be called Calm?

The nickname stuck from my rookie days—cool under pressure, never the first to tilt, always the last to give up. Even my mom texted me after tough losses: "Stay Calm. It’s who you are."

Without another word, I brushed off my hands and walked out, switching careers to become a streamer.

My palms were sweating a little as I left, but I kept my head up, even when the front desk guy—a college kid named Jamal—gave me a wide-eyed look as I passed. I drove home blasting old-school hip-hop, let the cool spring air rush in, and didn’t look back.

But before the spring split was even over, the manager came scrambling into my Twitch stream, spamming gift subs and begging me to come back.

He showed up in chat with a string of Wolf Team emotes, dropping $50 gift subs at a time. I almost spit out my La Croix when I saw his username.

"Caleb, Wolf Team has already lost eight games in a row. If you don't return, we won't even make playoffs!"

Me: "Sorry, it's nine games now. I've already signed with a new team. My debut match? Against you guys."

The chat exploded with hype, and for the first time in weeks, I felt unstoppable.