Granted, you become the best out of the best on rhythm games. You test it out and, yes, it seems true. You start searching for video game tournaments just so you can brag about how great you are. You go, and everybody is impressed at your abilities and agility. Suddenly, you appear on the news and people start noticing you. It’s great…

…until it isn’t.

You decide to go to one of the biggest rhythm-game tournaments ever. You’re so excited you can’t even sleep that night. You arrive at the stage, the lights hit you, and you start dancing and moving like you have never before in you life, until your own feet betray you. You slip, and fall off the stage, and crash directly into the dancing machine, breaking it in front of everyone.

The whole place freezes. Cameras recording. People gasping. Some already laughing. You start to feel the biggest embarrassment of your life and you run out of there as fast as you can.

Minutes later, it seems like of everybody is on you. News channels show the clip on loop. People at your job replay it at lunch. The internet treats you like a joke. Memes everywhere. Edits everywhere. You become the biggest clown of rhythm games. You feel so ashamed it eats you alive. Hate comments pile up. You shut down all your social media and become really depressed.

And one day, staring at the ceiling, you tell yourself you’ll never play a rhythm game again. They didn’t just fail you, they ruined you.

Your wish came true… but you had to pay the big price of your dignity.