Oliver and Ziggy

In the bathroom, he ducked into the farthest stall, locked the door, and sat down on the toilet lid like it was an emergency exit. Pulled out his phone, and opened Instagram.

There it was.

Already posted.

Already shared.

A video.

Some girl's voice—he couldn't tell whose—snickering. The camera caught everything: Oliver approaching, smiling nervously, his tray balanced in both hands. Then—snap.

His foot caught.
Plastic tray carnage. The audio was full of gasps and laughter. And the caption?

IRL Looney Toon in a black bar that implied it originated from Snapchat.

Oliver's hands were cold. His whole face felt like it was pulsing. He refreshed the video.

Already 79 likes.

Only two comments though.

"bro"

"Can't stop watching 😭😭😭"

He stared at the screen. Who even filmed this? He hadn't seen a phone out. Not this angle. Not that clearly.

Oliver closed his eyes, leaned back against the cool stall wall, and let the silence close in.

The bus ride home was supposed to be his buffer zone. Time to zone out, stare at the trees smearing past the window. Oliver sat with his phone resting on his lap, staring at the screen, wondering if it would be worth it to put on Spotify, listen to music, and pretend he didn't exist. That is--until a message from the group chat pinged in.

MAX: did you see the video?

Oliver's eyebrows shot up—somewhere near obtuse.

OLIVER: wdym, i was in it.
An ellipses from Jayden appeared.
JAYDEN: bro no
JAYDEN: not that one
JAYDEN: this one

A link popped into the chat. A big round rectangle that said 'TikTok'. Oliver didn't even want to click it.

OLIVER: A TIKTOK!!!
JAYDEN: Now I know you didn't watch it that fast.
MAX: Bro, speedrunning ts.

Oliver's thumb hovered over the link like it was radioactive. The video started playing, and Oliver's eyes immediately widened. You could see the reflection of the screen in them. The same fall. Same flying tray. Same explosion of mashed potatoes. But now it was set to Sail by AWOLNATION. Every time he hit the floor, the beat dropped again.

It was him, but it wasn't. The tray, the stumble, the fall—sure. But the way people were laughing? That part didn't belong to him anymore.

He never hit the comments so fast in all his 12 years.

"LMAOOO"

"🎶I've been roaming around! Always looking down at all I see🎶"

"Really, Sail meme in the big 25?🥀"

That last one was from KKDrummer, one of Maykayla's accounts from when she was an Animal Crossing fan during the lockdown.

The creator—a handle he didn't recognize—replied. "Vine memes for vine vibes." Oliver fled from the comments back to the group chat.

OLIVER: Makayla thinks the meme is cringe.
JAYDEN: Probably because she's trying to look above it all. Don't get your hopes up.

Oliver audibly huffed at this. A part of him hoped that she was defending him in critiquing the meme.

MAX: Ya, OG got 200 likes. that's, like, half the school.

Oliver swallowed, the pit in his stomach now a full crater bracing for a punch.

MAX: But 12k? That's going in a comp fr.

There it was. A comp? A compilation? Of embarrassing moments? Was "Lunch Boy" about to ascend from nickname to meme? Was he about to join the ranks of Star Wars Kid, or Crazy Frog Brothers, or Gorilla Glue Girl?

He didn't respond for a while, feeling too small to type.

Finally, his fingers moved. One simple, desperate question.

OLIVER: "Who could have done this?"

Next thing Oliver knew, Max was sending voice messages.

He rolled his eyes. Max only did this under two circumstances: When his thoughts were moving too fast to type, or when he wanted to be taken very seriously.

Oliver sighed and leaned in close, plugging in his earbuds like he was about to hear a secret.

Max's voice crackled through the first recording—low, secretive, like he was whispering in a tent with a flashlight under his chin.

"It was Zane Harlow. Had to be. I mean... who else?" The message began. "Everyone at my old school knew about him. Even after he left fifth grade, people still talked about him. Like a legend. Or a warning."

Oliver closed his eyes, letting the audio play as the bus rumbled beneath him.

"As the legend goes, nobody ever really noticed him. Teachers ignored him. Parents barely looked up. And then one day, he posted this video—just a little trick on his skateboard. Nothing fancy. But it got... one like. One little thumbs up. More posts. More likes. He felt seen. But then? It stopped. Cold."

A pause.

The bus doors hissed open on Max's end, and the recording cut out. Oliver tapped the next.

"And that was it. That's all it took. He got hooked. So he started pushing. His next video was his friend wiping out on a board. Then he filmed himself 'accidentally' rolling his skateboard into traffic. He smashed his DVD player. Pretended to break a computer monitor. All for the views. Then he went too far. Filmed himself busting his little brother's Xbox with a bat. Caught the scream. The crashout. That one? That one blew up."

The second message ended. Oliver tapped the next. The itch had already started—between his shoulders, like he was being watched.

And when he looked up...Three seats ahead. Zane Harlow.

Leaning back. Grinning. Talking to his crew.

Like nothing in the world was off.

Max's final voice note played, quieter now.

"That was the turning point. Zane became... a hunter. Every summer? He'd hit the mall. Walk around with his phone, asking strangers gross questions just to get a reaction. Every winter? He'd hang out by stairwells. Watch people slip on ice. Hope they cried. Zane doesn't just wait for people to mess up. He wants it. He looks for it."

Oliver didn't move.

Max's voice was gone.

But the feeling stayed.

His phone buzzed. A new text from Jayden.

JAYDEN: you've seen his vids right
JAYDEN: he never does the pranks
JAYDEN: just films them

Oliver chewed on the aglet of his hoodie then replied.

OLIVER: what if he planned mine
OLIVER: like... on purpose
OLIVER: he wanted me to fall
JAYDEN: wouldnt put it past him
JAYDEN: he'd humiliate you in front of the whole school if it appeased the algorithm gods.

Oliver looked up again.

Zane hadn't stopped smiling. Still scrolling. Still laughing. Like he already knew.

And suddenly, the fall didn't feel like an accident anymore.