After a few minutes, his phone buzzed again. This time a short voice message from Big D. Sid clicked play, and the deep, booming voice of his friend filled the room.

"Yo, Sid! Don’t you dare ghost me later. I already picked a place, bro. You’re not backing out. And before you start whining about money, remember— you promised. So bring your wallet, celebrity boy."

"This guy... like I don’t know he’s gonna order half the damn kitchen again."

He typed out a quick reply.

Sid: "Relax, man. I’ll be there. Just don’t get us kicked out like last time."

He closed the editing program after that, forcing himself not to spend too long staring at screens. His legs stretched out under the desk, and he focused on his breathing. He had to keep his adrenaline steady. Tonight was about precision, not hype.

"Calm now... Save the fire for the climb."

At 6:00 PM, dinner with his friend finally came around. The fast-food joint wasn’t anything special. Sid didn’t care. Tonight wasn’t about nutrition charts or training fuel, it was about celebrating. He sat across from Big D in a red booth, a tray between them stacked with greasy burgers, large fries, and two oversized sodas.

Big D took the first bite, ketchup dripping onto his hand. He grinned through a full mouth.

"Man, I don’t care what anyone says, this right here? This is god tier dining."

Sid smirked, unwrapping his burger.

"Yeah, because nothing screams pre god tower climb like a double bacon cheeseburger and a gallon of soda."

"Relax, champ!"

Big D said, pointing a fry at him.

"All that running around keeps you shredded. Me? I gotta watch the belly."

He patted his stomach dramatically, then laughed.

"But tonight, calories don’t count. Million subs, baby! You deserve this."

Sid took a bite, savoring the taste despite knowing it wasn’t "ideal fuel." He spoke after a long sip of soda.

"You know what’s crazy? Six months ago, I was just some dude uploading shaky roof runs on a cheap camera. Now I’m sitting at a million. It doesn’t even feel real."

Big D leaned forward, eyes wide with mock jealousy. "

Six months. Six freaking months. And I’ve been grinding two years, man. Two years, and I just hit half a mil. Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of it, but you? You’re built different, bro. You’re like... lightning in a bottle."

"Nah, come on. You’re killing it with your channel. Half a million’s insane. I couldn’t have done this without you shouting me out in the early days."

"Don’t give me that humble crap. People didn’t stick around because of me. They stayed because of you because you’re the guy jumping off rooftops like a lunatic. And look at you now. That training, man... you’re not the same skinny kid from school anymore. You’re built like an athlete. I swear, if you punched the president again with that body, he’d be the one going down this time."

Sid burst out laughing, nearly spilling his soda.

"Yeah, and then I’d be in jail before I even hit my next upload."

"How about we do it again, ha? My engagement boosted way too high after that scandal—"

Sid grabbed a fry and shoved it into Big D’s mouth before he could finish. They both cracked up, the kind of loud, unfiltered laugh that made the staff glance over from behind the counter. Big D slapped the table, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Worth it though! Imagine the headlines: Parkour Star Floors President in Round Two. You’d break ten million overnight!"

"Man, you’re stupid."

Big D smirked, dipping another fry into his milkshake.

"And you love it."

For a while they just ate, talking about dumb old stories from school, editing nightmares, and which of Sid’s fails were still their favorites. It felt good... simple and real, just two friends celebrating without worrying about tomorrow.

Then Big D’s tone shifted, just a little. He looked at Sid, lowering his voice.

"Hey, uh... speaking of old times. You ever hear from Morgana? You know, after everything that went down?"

Sid’s smile faded. He shook his head slowly.

"No. Never got the chance to talk to her again. Not once. We weren’t even that close to begin with."

"Yeah... I figured. But you know, after you punched the life out of that president, he never touched Morgana again. Hell, no one did. You really saved her, bro."

"I just did what anyone should’ve done. But... hearing she finally stopped getting bullied? Makes my expulsion worth it. Guess taking the fall had some meaning, huh?"

Big D’s tone shifted.

"But I got some news from my crew..."

"What news?"

"Morgana’s in grad school now, taking up her master’s. She’s doing good, really good... but that scumbag president? He followed her there."

Sid’s eyes darkened. He set down the burger, appetite gone in an instant. The air between them grew heavy, the weight of the past pressing down.

Big D caught the look and quickly raised his hands.

"Shit, my bad, bro. Didn’t mean to kill the mood. Forget I said anything. Tonight’s about you, alright? Million subs, first big milestone. You made it. And nothing, no one— gets to take this away from you."

Sid let out a slow breath, forcing a small smile.

"Yeah. You’re right. Tonight’s about celebrating. I’ll deal with everything else later."

Big D smiled again, lifting his soda cup.

"That’s the spirit. To Sid Wilder, the rooftop madman himself. One million strong and just getting started."

Sid clinked his cup against Big D’s, the sound sharp in the noisy restaurant.

"To us. From zero to a million."

They both drank, laughter soon returning, the heavy moment buried under the joy of the night. For now, the booth was filled with greasy food, bad jokes, and the sound of two friends trying to forget. But even as he laughed, the news from Big D lingered in the back of Sid’s mind like a splinter he couldn’t dig out.

He forced the smile, but behind it, a quiet worry gnawed at him. Morgana. That bastard president. The thought followed him, no matter how hard he tried to drown it in fries and soda.