Destined For Greatness


“Blue Team Cleric has been eliminated.” 

“And there goes our healer, come on guys, what are you doing?” Nick sighed. 

“It’s fine, we have control of their capture point, we can still win.” I replied. 

“We have two left, they still have nearly their entire team, and we have no heals, we won’t be able to hold for long.” Nick said. 

“Stay on point, if we have enough time to set up defences here we can hold them off for long enough for us to capture the point.” I said.

Nick shook his head. “We have a rogue and a paladin. We don’t have enough damage or health to stick it out here. We need to play to our character’s advantages if we’re gonna win.”

“Pushing them is a big risk, and I don’t think we can afford that in a tournament final.” 

“Even though we have the point, we’re sitting ducks here.”  Nick argued.

“That’s not-” I protested, but I was cut off.

“You know what, fine, I’ll push them myself, coward.”

The prize presentation over, I managed to slip out of the convention hall. Finding the nearest Starbucks, I ordered myself a drink and sat, thinking. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice. “George!” 

Nick sat down opposite me. “I knew you would be here.” he said, grinning. 

“What do you want?” I replied, exasperated. I took a sip of my drink. The grin on Nick’s face slowly fading away. 

He sighed. “Look, just chill man. I didn’t mean it. I… I was pissed and said it in the heat of the moment.”

“Really?” I asked, somewhat puzzled. 

“Well… yeah, I was.” There was a pause. “I’ll put it this way, the team needs you. You saw what happened just now, we were getting destroyed out there.”

I took another sip of my drink. “Aiyah, doesn’t matter, either way I can’t continue.” 

Nick frowned. “Why?”

“My father lor,” I said. I leaned in closer toward Nick. “I failed Math and Bio, and the world’s ending.”

“Didn’t you get, like, really high marks on everything else?” Nick asked.

I sighed, “Well, there’s only a few things my father cares about, and that’s Chem, Bio, and Math. If I don’t do well for those, I won’t do well in life, apparently.”

“But, that makes no sense…” Nick replied, confused.

“Well, yeah, but that’s my parents for you. And, I guess there’s some truth to it.” I finished up my drink, then stood up. As I turned to leave, Nick stood up behind me. 


I turned around to see Nick’s outstretched arm. In his hand was a piece of paper. I looked at it, then back at him, then took it from him.

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

“It’s a contract. From FaZe. They want to pick up our team.” Nick replied, glowing with pride.

“What, you mean, the FaZe clan? They’re playing Mythic Legends?” I asked, secretly excited.

“Well, they are now.” Nick replied, “They need to register for the League, so you’ve gotta send it to them in a few weeks.”

I looked over the contract again. There was decent pay, sponsorship deals, and most importantly, countless opportunities. And besides, who would say no to FaZe?

But no, it would probably only last a few years, until I got slower, retired, and then what, no degree, nothing. I could hear my father’s voice, nagging at me, telling me how much of a mistake I made.

“It covers everything you want,” Nick said, “so, you in?” 

I shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe.” 

The enthusiasm on Nick’s face left him once again. “Fine, but just take it with you and think about it. And if you can convince your father in a couple of weeks, then fill it up and give it back to me.”

I nodded, folding up the paper and putting it in my back pocket. “Well, I guess that’s it then.” I said, turning to leave.

“Yeah. Text me if you change your mind.”

I closed the blinds on the setting sun filtering into my room, blinding me. My head throbbed, and I took a break from my work to go downstairs and get a cold drink. 

“You done with your work?” My father asked, as I passed him sitting on his armchair in the living room, reading. 

“Not yet,” I replied, “but I’m finishing soon.” Drink in hand, I made my way back up to my room. Now back to work. I stared at the paper, the gears in my brain turning, as I began to decipher the question. Five minutes later, and still nothing. 

I stared at the paper for another five minutes. Still nothing. Finally, I decided nothing was going to happen. Putting away my work, I turned on my computer. I mindlessly surfed the web, finding nothing of interest. 

Suddenly, something caught my eye. I clicked on it. A new update for ML. Quickly checking that my room door was closed, I downloaded the update and opened the game. 

I was greeted by the familiar loading screen, then, as I loaded into a match, the familiar sound of “Game Start!” I was immersed. At first, the mechanics felt foreign, the controls felt clunky, but I began getting stuck into it, old strategies came back to me, my fingers flew across the keyboard, as I took out multiple foes easier. 

It came down to the last round. The enemy team had managed to take out most of our players at the beginning of the round, while we had only taken out two of theirs. It was a 3v1, and although I had control of the capture point, they heavily outnumbered and out damaged me. It was impossible to win.

The gamer in me started working again. I left my position on the point to flank them. Catching them off-guard, I was able to quickly take out one of them. Immediately, the other two advanced on me. I held my breath as I took on both of them at the same time, skillfully dodging their attacks, all while responding with my own…

And that was it, the game was won. I sighed deeply, drained from that last intense fight, and leaned back in my chair. It had only been a casual match, but I felt a feeling that I had not felt in a long time. A feeling of accomplishment, excitement, pride, but most importantly, a feeling of relief.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was from Nick. “You coming or not? Deadline is at 6.” I was confused, then I remembered: the contract.

Digging under a tall pile of practice papers and worksheets, I pulled out a tattered piece of paper and placed it on my table. I checked the clock, Five-thirty. Good, I still had time. Excitedly, I rapidly filled in my details. As I came to the bottom of the page, I signed my name on the line, then moved over to the last blank. 

I faltered. Under the line, it read, “Parent/Guardian’s Signature”. Of course they would need a parent’s signature. My mother was out, probably buying groceries, meaning that the only parent home for the next half hour would be…

As if on cue, my father opened the door behind me. “George ah, you hungry? If you are, I tell Ah Ma to start preparing dinner first.”

“Uh, not yet.” I replied, quickly changing the screen on my computer to a different tab. “I’ll eat later.”


“Wait,” I said, as he was about to leave. 

My father reopened the door. “Yes?”

“Could you take a look at this?” I handed him the piece of paper. He looked at it, furrowed brows, reading intently the conditions on the contract.

“What’s this?” he finally asked. 

“Um, a job offer,” 

“You don’t pian wo ah, what’s fa… face clan?”

“Uh, it’s… it’s an esports organisation. It’s one of the best in the world.”

My father looked up at me, a clear look of disappointment on his face. “George ah, I thought I told you to stop with your gaming thing already, how come now you are bringing this up again?” I shrank back into my chair, why had I thought this would work?

My father sighed, “I really don’t know what to say. I thought you had changed, that… that you knew this isn’t going to get you anywhere. You need to go and get your priorities straight.” he shook his head and handed the paper back to me. “Failing subjects still dare to come and tell me this kind of stuff. You think they take people that fail Bio into med school?” 

I hung my head in shame, though there was nothing to be ashamed of. I had tried. Defeated, I switched off my computer as my father left the room. 

Just then, an idea popped into my head. Going back into the stack of papers next to my desk, I dug out another form, for some edusave thing, but, more importantly, it was signed.

 I analysed the signature on the paper, then went back to the contract. My pen hovered over the dotted line. I hesitated. Was I really ready to give up my integrity for this?

I threw a glance behind me, ensuring that the door was completely closed. Then, swiftly but carefully, I copied out the signature from the other form. My heart still racing, I stuffed the paper into my bag along with my other gear. It was already 5.45.

 Quickly, I ran downstairs, bag in hand. “Where are you going?” my father asked, this time looking up from his book. 

“Meet my friends for dinner.” I said, as I rushed out the door. Walking quickly toward the MRT station, I pulled out my phone to text Nick, “I’m coming, tell them to wait for me.”

I arrived at the FaZe office in no time. I stood outside the door, the famous red and black logo displayed proudly on the door. I took a deep breath. This was it.

Consulting the front desk for directions, I found my way to the main training centre. “So, you made it.” A familiar voice said, as I was unpacking my stuff. I spun around to see Nick, smiling broadly at me, along with the rest of the team. “You got the form?”


I pulled out the crumpled contract from my bag, handing it to him, who passed it on to an older man. “Oh and, this is our new coach, Mr. Tan.” Mr. Tan shook my hand firmly, and we began training. We did some warm-up drills, then got into the real stuff. As we played, we laughed, made jokes, had fun. It felt good to be part of the team again. 

Time flies by when you are having fun, and soon, training was over. As I grabbed my gear and walked back toward the bags, a sudden realisation dawned upon me. A realisation that I would now have to go home and face my father. How was I supposed to get to practice? Maybe I could make something up a few times but eventually he would catch up. 

I tried to put it out of my head as I packed away my stuff, but the concept of living in constant fear of being found out hung over me, not to mention the guilt of having forged a signature. That throbbing headache was back again. As I turned to the hallway which I had entered from to leave, Nick called from behind me. “George! I think you dropped something.” 

Nick handed me a small slip of paper. I unfolded it. Inside, was my father’s unmistakable handwriting. 

I saw you playing, and you seem to be happy doing it (and really good). I know that this is what you really want to do, just know I’ll support you no matter what, and I just want you to succeed in life. Just remember, you are destined for greatness. Pa.

Julian Kan (Class of 2024) spends less time on writing than he probably should. Instead, he enjoys playing video games, sleeping, and laughing at people on the internet. When he does write, however, he usually writes short fiction, and never writes poetry.