I stuffed the mic into my armpit and clapped as he sloped onto the stage, shoulders rolling in a denim jacket so big it looked as though he’d borrowed it from his dad, if his dad was a giant.

‘Also joining us is one of this year’s Fortnite World Cup runners-up. From Milton Keynes, England, it’s PsychoBang!’

The teenage boy who had just inhaled three packets of Wotsits in a row rushed onto the stage, throwing his arms out wide, a PC-gaming Jesus Christ as the crowd howled his name. Definitely not someone who was going to struggle to form functioning relationships when he got older.

‘And of course, last but not least, we have this year’s Fortnite World Cup Champion, a Dreamcast Extreme Master, the most subscribed-to player on any streaming site in the world and host of PodPad’s first gaming podcast, the one, the only Snazzlechuff!’ I called out his name like a boxing announcer, riding the wave of screams echoing around the room. Rows and rows of teenage boys, teenage girls, grown men and even a few grown women leapt up, clapped their hands and stamped their feet as they waited for their hero to appear.

Only he didn’t.

‘Let’s hear it for Snazzlechuff!’ I shouted again, turning off my mic and sticking my head back through the curtains. Veronica, Ted and Travis were all standing around Max’s chair, where he was still playing his game.

‘Max,’ I hissed. ‘Get out here.’

‘Don’t wanna,’ he replied without moving.

‘That’s not funny,’ I said as the cheers began to fade away into discontented murmurs. ‘You need to come out here right now.’

‘No,’ he said, looking up at me as defiantly as someone in a robot mask was able to. ‘You need me to come out there right now. I need to play Super Smash Bros.’

I looked at Ted but he was frozen to the spot. Travis ran over to the sound desk and began fiddling with unnecessary knobs.

‘Veronica?’ I said, helplessly.

‘Kids today,’ she shrugged. ‘I’d give him a slap but it’s illegal. Maybe somebody shouldn’t have filled his head with ideas about giving up gaming.’

I gulped. How could it be anything other than my fault?

‘I know!’ Ted screeched. ‘You put on the tiger mask and pretend to be him.’

‘I think they’re going to know,’ I hissed, pointing at my tits. On the other side of the curtain, the crowd was beginning to get restless. ‘Travis,’ I ordered. ‘Cue the video.’

He nodded and gave a salute, hitting a big red play button in front of him. In the arena, I heard the crowds hush as our Snazzlechuff Says introduction video began to roll.

‘All right,’ I said, dropping to my knees in front of the teenage maestro and feeling nothing. ‘I am begging you. What do you need? Ted, did you get him that Chicago pizza?’