Part 4: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1119802831 _____________________________________________ ESSA’s life was a never-ending spiral of misery. Working at the gas station only added salt to his already gaping wounds. His uniform—a bright orange polo two sizes too small—clung to him awkwardly, and the nametag reading "ESSA" became a beacon for mockery. Every day, customers gave him a hard time. “Hey, aren’t you that Scratch guy?” one teenager asked, stifling a laugh. “How’s your potato project doing?” ESSA forced a tight smile. “It’s fine, thank you,” he muttered, slamming the register shut. One particularly slow evening, ESSA was sweeping the floors when the doorbell jingled. He looked up and froze. It was Y/N. “Hey, ESSA,” they said casually, placing a coffee and a bag of chips on the counter. ESSA grunted in response, too embarrassed to meet their gaze. The last time they’d seen each other, Y/N’s friends had roasted him alive. “How’s it going?” Y/N asked, attempting small talk. “Oh, you know,” ESSA said bitterly, “just living the dream. Cleaning floors, restocking shelves, living in my mom’s basement.” Y/N hesitated. “Well… at least you’re working. That’s a start.” The comment stung more than Y/N intended, and ESSA’s frustration boiled over. “Is this pity?” he snapped. “Because I don’t need it. You’ve already rejected me. Everyone has. Just take your chips and go.” Y/N blinked, startled. “I wasn’t trying to pity you, ESSA. I was just being nice.”
ESSA’s outburst attracted the attention of the only other customer in the store: a middle-aged man buying lottery tickets. The man snorted. “Yikes, dude. You might wanna chill. No wonder you’re single.” That was the final straw. ESSA lost it. “You think I’m the problem?!” he shouted, pointing a finger at the man. “I’ve been rejected, humiliated, and roasted online for MONTHS. I used to be someone! I was the KING of Scratch!” The man raised an eyebrow. “The king of… what now?” “Scratch! The coding site for kids!” ESSA yelled, not realizing how ridiculous he sounded until it was too late. Y/N couldn’t hold back anymore. They burst into laughter, trying to hide it behind their hand but failing miserably. “Even Y/N’s laughing at me now,” ESSA mumbled, his face burning. Y/N caught their breath and said, “ESSA, you need to get a grip. No one cares about your Scratch legacy. Just… figure your life out, okay?” With that, they left, leaving ESSA to stew in his humiliation. A New Low After Y/N’s departure, ESSA decided to drown his sorrows in Mountain Dew and discount hot dogs from the gas station. As he sat alone in the break room, he scrolled through his phone and found a new meme trending: "ESSA the Scratch Potato." It was everywhere—(places I cant say because I think ill get banned) Someone had deepfaked his face onto a literal potato wearing a fedora. ESSA stared at the screen in disbelief. “This can’t be happening.” It was. When ESSA returned home that night, his mom handed him a letter. It was from Scratch Support. “We regret to inform you that your account has been permanently banned for past violations. We wish you the best in your future endeavors.” ESSA stared at the letter, his hands trembling. Even his last connection to his old life was gone. “I hate everything,” he muttered, collapsing onto his bed. As the neon lights from his setup blinked mockingly, ESSA realized there was no lower he could sink. Or so he thought. The End (Honestly Its not gonna be)
