The loading spinner on Marco’s laptop was a cruel, spinning metaphor for his life. Three dots, circling endlessly. He was two weeks behind on rent, his phone had been disconnected, and the only thing he had to look forward to was a stale packet of noodles and the grainy, pirated copy of a movie he’d been dying to see.
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Marco’s hand trembled over the mouse. He slammed the spacebar to pause. The video stopped. The other Marco froze mid-sentence, his eyes still staring, unblinking, directly at him. The loading spinner on Marco’s laptop was a