The Buzz

The blaring ringtone of his Blueberry phone jolted Inigo awake. His eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, as he blindly fumbled for the device. The screen read 5:30 AM—way too early for comfort, but he had no choice.

It was Monday.

And in this life, Mondays weren't for boardroom meetings or investment pitches. They were for school.

With a deep sigh, he forced himself up from his thin mattress, groaning as his sore back protested against the movement. The electric fan in the corner wheezed weakly, barely pushing away the lingering heat from the night. He had slept late after launching Flappy Bird, but checking its performance would have to wait.

For now, his priority was getting himself and Leila to school.

After a quick shower—if you could call pouring cold water over your head with a tabo a "shower"—Inigo threw on a simple white T-shirt, faded jeans, and his worn-out sneakers. His morning routine was efficient, almost mechanical. He didn't have the luxury to take his time like some rich college kids.

Stepping out of his room, he found his little sister, Leila, already dressed in her school uniform—a light blue blouse and a navy skirt. She sat on the small dining table, her short legs swinging idly as she spooned rice and eggs into her mouth.

"Brother, why do you look so tired?" she asked, tilting her head.

Inigo forced a smile, ruffling her hair. "Just stayed up late working on something."

"You always stay up late."

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Eat up. We gotta leave soon."

Leila scarfed down the rest of her food while Inigo did the same. Their grandmother, Nanay Lina, had already left for work at the carinderia before dawn, so it was just the two of them.

Fifteen minutes later, they were out the door.

The streets were already alive with the early morning bustle. Jeepneys rumbled past, their engines roaring as passengers clung onto the rails. The scent of freshly fried lumpia wafted from a roadside vendor, mingling with the distant aroma of pan de sal from a nearby bakery.

Leila walked beside Inigo, her small hand gripping the strap of her backpack.

Her school was along the way to Quezon City State University, so it was his job to drop her off before heading to his own classes.

As they neared the school gates, Leila glanced up at him. "Kuya, will you pick me up later?"

"Can't today. I have my shift at the café," he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

She pouted. "Okay… I'll just wait for Nanay."

He gave her a reassuring pat on the head. "Be good, okay? Don't let anyone bully you."

"I won't! I'll punch them like this—" Leila raised her tiny fists, pretending to box the air.

Inigo laughed. "Alright, champ. Go on."

With one last wave, she dashed off toward the schoolyard.

Now, it was his turn.

By the time Inigo arrived at Quezon City State University, the sun had fully risen, casting golden light over the campus.

Students flooded the walkways—some rushing to their morning classes, others lazily chatting under the shade of trees.

It had been years since he last set foot in a university, and yet, it felt like yesterday. The same chalk-stained professors, the same cafeteria smell of overcooked rice, and the same half-awake students chugging instant coffee.

As he checked his schedule, he realized something—he was already a third-year IT student.

"Damn, I skipped the worst parts of college," he muttered under his breath. No more awkward freshman phase. No more adjusting to campus life. He was already in the thick of it.

He navigated through the halls until he reached his classroom. The moment he stepped inside, a familiar voice called out.

"Oy, Tol! You're actually early today!"

Inigo turned to see Richard, his blockmate and closest friend in this life.

Richard was the definition of middle class comfort—not rich, but definitely better off than Inigo. His parents could afford the latest gadgets, and it showed. He sat at his desk, casually flicking his fingers over the glossy screen of his Samsung S, the latest Android phone.

"Damn, bro. You finally decided to be a responsible student?" Richard teased.

Inigo smirked, dropping his bag on the chair next to him. "You know me. Always dedicated."

"Bullshit."

They both chuckled.

As the professor hadn't arrived yet, the classroom was still in full chaos mode—students chatting, last-minute cramming, and, strangely enough… a lot of frustrated groaning.

Inigo raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

Richard grinned and turned his phone screen toward him. "This damn game."

Inigo's eyes widened slightly.

On Richard's screen was Flappy Bird.

His Flappy Bird.

The small, pixelated bird flapped hopelessly between the green pipes, barely making it past three before crashing into one with a resounding thud. The game over screen appeared, showing a miserable score of 2.

"Motherfuck..!" Richard cursed, gripping his phone in frustration. "I swear this game is rigged! I can't even get past five!"

Another student groaned nearby. "Bro, my high score is 7 and I feel like a god."

"High score? I can't even get past one!" someone from the back complained.

Inigo glanced around the classroom.

At least half of his classmates were playing Flappy Bird.

Some were cursing under their breaths, others were gritting their teeth in silent rage, and a few were furiously tapping their screens like maniacs.

A girl two rows ahead let out an exasperated sigh. "I hate this game. But I can't stop playing it."

Inigo held back a smirk.

They were hooked.

Richard sighed in frustration and shoved his phone back in his pocket. "Man, I don't know who the hell made this, but they're evil."

Inigo leaned back, keeping his face neutral. "Yeah? What's so bad about it?"

Richard shot him a death glare. "You don't understand. It looks easy, but it's actually torture. It's worse than a toxic ex. No matter how much it pisses you off, you keep coming back for more."

Another guy chimed in, shaking his head. "Bro, it's like crack. You just wanna beat your high score."

The conversation continued as more students ranted, raged, and laughed over Flappy Bird.

Inigo barely heard the professor enter.

His mind was still reeling.

Flappy Bird had gone viral.

And it was only Monday morning.

***

The class ended at two o'clock in the afternoon, and that meant he could still check the stats of the Flappy Bird before heading to the cafe for his shift.

He made his way towards the nearest internet cafe and paid the clerk 10 pesos for an hour's rent. He sat on one of the vacant station and logged into his Google AdMob dashboard.

His heart pounded as the screen loaded.

A second later, the numbers appeared.

Ad Revenue Today: $32.45

For a moment, he just stared at the screen.

Thirty-two dollars.

That was over ₱1,500 pesos in a single day.

His entire week's worth of salary at the café.

Inigo blinked. Was this real?

He refreshed the page.

$32.52

It had increased.

A small, breathless laugh escaped his lips.

This was just the beginning.

He clicked on the Download Statistics next.

Total Installs: 18,940

Active Users: 8,721

Almost nineteen thousand downloads in less than two days?!