The Life We Never Lived

Manhattan, New York - Sep 2026

Cole rides his bike through the rain, the straps of the uber eats backpack aggressively digging into his shoulders, making him wonder whether he's delivering a hot meal or an anvil.

"I'm sick of this fuckass job," he mutters, pedalling relentlessly through the saturated streets of Manhattan, his slightly curly brown hair a matted and wet mess, rain-drenched clothes clinging to his body.

The job barely pays minimum wage, and at the age of 19 it's barely enough to get him by living on his own. He'd dropped out of college because of the mentally-draining workload, and moved out of his parents' home to prove he could fend for himself and didn't need college, though he's been struggling financially for quite some time.

Cole comes to a stop as he approaches the delivery destination. He sets his bike on the curb, accidentally stumbling and stepping into a puddle. He mutters a curse as water fills the inside of his shoes and drenches his socks.

He walks up to the door with all the enthusiasm of a depressed sloth, flinching with every step at the cold dampness in his shoes and silently praying, for the sake of his social awkwardness, that nobody will come to the door. With a grunt, he lifts the bag off his shoulders and unzips it, placing the order on the doorstep before taking a photo as proof of delivery.

When he arrives back at McDonalds, he parks his bike in the designated area at the back and trudges inside, clothes and hair dripping wet. He couldn't care less if he leaves a mess on the floor, he just wants this damn night to be over with.

He pulls out his phone, opens the Uber Eats app and checks the earnings for the last delivery:

$7.83

"Woohoo," he says dryly, "maybe I can finally retire."

He shoves his phone back into his pocket and walks over to the counter, where another delivery order is already awaiting him.

He stares at it.

Then at the rain pouring down outside.

Then back at the order.

“Fuck my life.”

He snatches the bag and heads back outside.

By the time his shift is finally over, he's too tired to ride his bike so he just walks it for the whole 20 blocks home. It's now pitch black out, and Cole can hear crickets chirping as he walks along the dimly-lit sidewalk, alongside the faint screaming of a crackhead in the distance.

The walk feels like an eternity, but he finally arrives at his apartment building. It isn't anything special, merely a midcentury 4-storey brick building in Washington Heights. But it's nice enough.

He enters the building and greets the desk clerk with a nod, then walks over to his mail slot. He discovers more white envelopes with the words 'PAST DUE' stamped in red. "Oh, I wonder what it could be," he ponders sardonically, taking them in his hand and climbing the stairs to his apartment.

Once Cole steps inside he switches on the light, takes off his jacket and tosses the envelopes onto the pile of other unpaid bills on the kitchen counter. When he opens the fridge, he's met with a depressing sight of empty shelves - aside from a bottle of milk and a 6 pack of Smirnoffs. He shuts the door with a sigh and wanders over to the cupboard, scanning the shelves littered with snacks. After a moment of careful contemplation, he settles for the large pack of doritos on the middle shelf.

"What a night..." Cole mutters as he saunters into the living room and collapses onto the couch, snatching up the remote and turning on the TV. Cole starts munching on his doritos as the YouTube logo lights up the screen. He looks through the videos that came up in his recommended - usually a mix of podcasts and gaming content. After flipping through the videos he finally settles on a random CaseOh video with a cool thumbnail, but just as he's about to click play the video next to it catches his eye:

HOW I TURNED $200 INTO $200,000 FROM TRADING MEMECOINS

"Pfft, yeah right," Cole scoffs, rolling his eyes as he places another dorito into his mouth. Yet instead of scrolling past, his thumb presses down on the 'play' button, a sliver of curiosity nagging at him. "This'll be a hoot."

But to his surprise, rather than being some kind of clickbait fake money-making scam, the guy in the video presents a legitimate way to make money by simply buying memecoins. The person explains how trading memecoins can potentially make you rich but are the riskiest type of cryptocurrency due to their extreme volatility and price swings, so you could lose all your money in seconds. Cole finds himself listening intently, despite his initial dismissiveness.

After the video finishes, Cole clicks on the next memecoin video that pops up. And after that one finishes, he plays the next one.

Two hours go by, and Cole has watched over 30 videos on trading memecoins. When he looks at his phone, he is caught by surprise at how much time has gone by. His lockscreen reads:

10:37PM

He then leaves the video paused and practically leaps to his bedroom with newfound enthusiasm. He swings open his closet door and desperately rummages through all the clothes and junk he'd carelessly thrown in the closet, hoping that what he's looking for is still there.

"Come onnn, it's gotta be here somewhere," Cole grumbles as he frantically opens drawers, then checks the shelf at the top of the closet. And sure enough, buried under discarded clothes and rubbish at the top shelf, there it is: his laptop he'd used for college, which had been sitting there gathering dust for the past 6 months.

He lightly brushes the dust of with his hand and brings the laptop to his desk, swiping all the junk off his table and onto the floor. He starts up the laptop, which is an apple macbook air. What was the name of the application in the video... he tries to recall in his mind. Then he suddenly remembers:

"Fomo!"

Cole opens the app store, types 'fomo' in the searchbar and clicks install. He goes on his phone while he waits, scrolling on TikTok. Then a message appears at the top of his screen. It's from his British friend Toby:

Toby: yo bro can i come over?

Cole types,

yh sure, why not

A moment later,

Toby: alr bet ill be there in a bit

Cole sets his phone down, and notices fomo has finished downloading. "Finally, a million years later," he mutters. He opens fomo and creates his account, using the gamertag he'd used since he was little: colzmc (the mc stands for minecraft). He snickers childishly as he makes his name 'Mr Krabs', and changes his profile picture accordingly.

After setting up his account and linking his payment method, the screen displays a list of various memecoins and mainstream crypto he recognises such as bitcoin, ethereum and solana. But the more he stares at the screen, the more his excitement turns into confusion. There's red numbers, green numbers, percentages, market caps, volume - it's like staring at another language.

"What the fuck am I looking at?" he finally asks aloud.

As he scrolls through the 'trending' page, he grows increasingly more perplexed - he sees tokens bearing various random logos: animals, celebrities - one even bearing a poorly photoshopped image of Charlie Kirk. "Someone made a Charlie Kirk currency?" Cole wonders aloud.

Then, just as he is considering buying the Charlie Kirk coin, another one catches his attention - a token displaying the letter C with the face of a cat inside it. "Cate," he reads aloud. Cole, being a cat lover who has always wanted a pet cat, can't help but have his curiosity piqued at this particular coin. He looks at the market cap: 40.6M. Then he reads through the top holders' theses:

$cate to 1B 🚀

It's doge but a cat(e) 🐈

Buy low while you still can 👀🚀

New ATH soon! Much meow 🐈💛

Hm, these people must know what they're doing, he thinks to himself. Then he looks at the chart, studying the red and green candlesticks a moment longer. He tries to recall as much as he can from the videos.

"Buy low, sell high..." he murmurs, switching between timeframes and looking back to see where the market has been going. Another thesis pops up in the chat, which Cole feels is directed straight at him:

Last chance to enter low 👀

His cursor hovers over the 'buy' button, his finger twitching above the touchpad. He can feel the sweat dripping down his face. This is real money I'm risking, he reminds himself. Then with a deep breath, he finally clicks 'buy'. When the 'deposit cash' prompt appears, he hesitates for a second.

"Fuck it. What have I got to lose?"

He types in the amount of his entire life savings:

$1,870

He flinches as the value of his trade fluctuates rapidly:

$1867

$1874

$1878

$1863

He stares at the chart with an intensity that should set the laptop on fire, watching as price rapidly changes. Then it starts going down.

$1850

$1833

$1799

His heart skips a beat with each price change, sweating profusely as he watches his savings plummet. He moves the cursor over to the 'sell' button, his finger trembling over the touchpad. The value of his trade continues to sink further and further:

$1734

$1648

The second he lowers his finger onto the touchpad, the sudden chime of his doorbell echoes through the apartment, causing him to flinch in shock. Then he collects his thoughts and remembers. Right, Toby must be here. Slamming his laptop shut and wiping the sweat off his forehead, he gets up and walks out to open the door.

"Yooo, what's good?" Toby grins, reaching out his hand to dap him up.

"Hey," Cole smiles, returning the gesture and letting Toby inside.

"Sorry I'm late, there was an accident on the highway and I got stuck in mad traffic. You good, bro?" Toby asks, noticing the flicker of worry in Cole's eyes.

"Yeah, just... long night," he says, glancing nervously in the direction of his room. "You want a beer or anything?" he asks, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge, grabbing a can of Smirnoff for himself.

"Nah, I'm good," Toby replies, wandering over to the living room and plonking himself onto the couch.

"So, what brings you by anyway? You never come over unless something's up," Cole says, cracking open his drink with a light pop and hiss then joining Toby on the couch.

Toby pretends to look thoughtful for a moment. "I dont know man, it just seems like we don't hang out as often as we used to, you know?"

Cole frowns, seeing through his act immediately. "Cut the bullshit bro. What's going on?"

Toby pretends to look hurt, then just smiles and sighs. "Straight to it, huh? Well... Amy and I are having problems."

Cole is quiet for a moment. He's never been with anyone before, so he doesn't understand much about relationship dynamics. But he is used to his friends coming to him for advice for this sort of thing, and he can tell Toby is deeply hurt.

"Damn," he says flatly, taking another sip of his drink. "Why is it, that whenever my friends have relationship problems, you all come to the one person who has never been in one?"

Toby shrugs. "I don't know, you're just... good at listening, I guess. Whenever I talk to the other guys about it they just laugh it off. But you just listen."

Cole smiles proudly. "I suppose I do. Hey, why don't we get some music going? Lighten the mood in this bitch."

He walks up to the JBL speaker by the TV and activates it, then connects the bluetooth on his phone.

"Let's see, what've we got," Cole says, browsing through his spotify playlist. Unlike his friends who just listen to rap, his playlist is a unique mix of hardcore rap, heavy metal, pop, rock, and a handful of classical music. He presses the 'shuffle' button, and the starting chords of Hymn For The Weekend by Coldplay fill the living room.

He slumps back onto the couch next to Toby. Then he suddenly straightens up and crosses his legs, clasping his hands together in his lap. He turns to Toby with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression, tilting his head as if he's a therapist speaking to a patient.

"So, Toby. What seems to be on your mind tonight?"

Toby bursts out laughing. "Bro, what the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm consulting with my patient," Cole replies solemnly. "Please, tell me about your childhood."

Toby laughs and shakes his head. "You're such a fucking idiot, bro."

Cole nods thoughtfully. "Denial. A classic defence mechanism."

He grins, uncrossing his legs and settling back into the couch. He reaches for his Smirnoff on the coffee table and takes a sip. "Seriously though, what's going on with you and Amy?"

Toby lets out a long sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "It's just... I don't know, man. Things haven't been great between us lately."

Cole turns towards him with his full attention. "What happened?"

Toby stares at the floor thoughtfully for a moment.

"I feel like we've been drifting apart, but everytime I try to talk to her about it we end up arguing. And lately it feels like I'm the only one who's actually trying to fix things."

Cole nods his head slowly, listening. His gaze flickers anxiously to his room, his thoughts still drifting to his open trade.

"Have you tried telling her that?" he asks.

Toby turns to him. "Telling her what?"

"That you feel like you're drifting apart."

"Yeah, obviously, bro. That's usually when the arguing starts."

"Oh, right."

Cole scratches the back of his head, momentarily lost for words.

"Look man, I don't know shit about relationships, but if you still care about her you've gotta at least try to work things out. You can't fix a problem if neither of you want to talk about it. Have you actually sat down with her and told her how you feel? Like, properly?"

Toby shrugs. "I've tried."

"Yeah, but have you tried talking to her without it turning into an argument? Just tell her what you've been telling me, that you miss how things used to be, that you feel like you're drifting apart, whatever it is you're feeling."

"And what if she doesn't care?"

Cole pauses for a moment. "Then at least you'll know you tried, right? I mean, you can't force someone to care about something they don't wanna fix. But if you still want this to work, you've got to give eachother a chance."

Toby looks down at the floor, contemplating this. "Damn, since when did you become so wise?"

"Since never. My dinner was literally half a pack of doritos, bro."

Toby chuckles.

Cole places a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Hey. You try living off a salary of $15 an hour, bro. The average citizen in North Korea is richer than I am."

Toby's smile fades into something a little more serious. "You know I'll help you out if you need it, right?"

Cole takes a sip of his drink, shaking his head. "No, bro. I'm not mooching off of your money. That's your money. Besides, being broke isn't that bad. It'd be worse if I actually paid taxes."

Toby gives him a look. "Try saying that when the IRS finally catches up to your ass."

Cole scoffs, though there's a hint of nervousness in his eyes. There's a moment of silence. Then the starting notes of Perfect by Ed Sheeran fill the room. Toby groans.

"Alright, that's my cue," he sighs, lifting himself off the couch.

Cole snorts at Toby's prominent loathing of Ed Sheeran, though his grin fades a little as Toby walks over to the door. "Okay, bro."

Toby opens the door to leave. "Take it easy, yeah?"

"That's the plan," Cole smirks. "In a bit."

"In a bit, bro." The door shuts behind him, and Cole is left alone on the couch with Ed Sheeran's voice eminating from the speaker. He lets out a sigh, his loneliness slowly creeping back in.

Then he remembers.

"SHIT!" Cole scrambles off the couch and sprints to his room, almost stumbling on some empty cans on the floor.

He opens his laptop with a swift motion, his heart pounding in his chest. As the fomo screen loads up, he places his hands together and closes his eyes. "God, I know I don't pray to you as often as I should, but if you're listening, please don't let me be bankrupt."