unghoangphidang

I used to be disenchanted of my own hands.

Not in some weird psychological way—though maybe it was psychological, who knows. I mean literally afraid that my hands would betray me at the worst possible moment. Which they did. Constantly.

Job interviews, presentations, first dates. Anytime people were watching and waiting for me to perform, my fingers would go numb and my brain would just... shut off. Like someone pulled the power cord.

I called it ATSM—Anxiety That Stiffens Muscles. Stupid name, but I'm a programmer. I like labeling things, even when I can't fix them.

The worst part? It killed my one real passion. I used to love billiards. Was actually decent at it, back in college. But after... well, after something happened that I don't really want to get into right now, I couldn't hold a cue stick without falling apart.

So I did what any rational person would do: I gave up. Got a safe job, worked long hours, convinced myself I didn't need hobbies anyway.

That plan worked great for about fifteen years.

Then I made the mistake of running my mouth on TikTok, challenging the Queen of Nine-Ball to a match. Because apparently when you're having a midlife crisis, the smart move is to embarrass yourself in front of the best billiards player in Southeast Asia.

This plot is about what happened after that. It's about meeting people who refused to let me quit, learning to fail in public without dying, and discovering that sometimes the only way forward is to go back and face the thing that broke you in the first place.

It's also about billiards, obviously. But mostly it's about being brave enough to suck at something you love, in front of people who matter.

THE MASSÉ