Ryan Hawkins- A man with 3million egos

POV: Ryan Hawkins

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The next morning hit me like a hangover from emotional stupidity.

I sat on my bed, staring into the void — equal parts caffeine, regret, and conspiracy theories.

No texts. No sugar mommy.

Just me and a phone full of deleted hopes.

And that's when it clicked.

If no one was going to save me…

Then maybe it was time I became the glitch in every scammer's matrix.

After I got scammed, something inside me snapped.

I stared at the ceiling like a movie protagonist in a dramatic montage—silent, broke, and narrating his downfall to no one.

My phone? Empty.

My wallet? Lighter than my dignity.

And I whispered to the darkness:

"I'm gonna pay back every scammer out there."

Cue dramatic drums. Cue lightning in the background.

(Probably just a busted light bulb.)

The problem?

I didn't even own a working computer.

Just a hand-me-down calculator from 2007 and a mousepad I once mistook for a plate.

I sat there, pacing. Thinking. Daydreaming.

If I wanted revenge, I needed a weapon.

And in this war against scammers…

My weapon of choice? A PC.

Even a half-dead one.

So the next morning, I set off—

Armed with 3 pesos, false confidence, and a dream.

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Scene: Local Computer Shop

The next day, I marched to the nearest tech shop like a man with three pesos in his pocket and three million pesos worth of vengeance in his soul.

The place smelled like plastic, air freshener, and financial insecurity.

I walked in like a legend in the making—hoodie on, purpose strong.

Behind the desk stood a tired-looking salesman. He looked like he hadn't blinked since the Marcos era.

> Me (smiling, hopeful):

"Hello po, sir! Gusto ko po sana 'yang computer na nasa glass display."

He blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Like Windows loading.

Then he leaned forward slowly, squinting at me like I just insulted his entire bloodline.

> Salesman (awkward):

"Ahh… sure, kid. Pero… you know… may bayad 'yan."

I nodded with full confidence. This was it. My hero moment.

> Me (proudly):

"Don't worry. I brought my life savings. Here."

(opens palm with three coins that looked like they've been through a world war)

He looked at the coins.

Then at me.

Then back at the coins.

> Salesman (half-choking):

"…Anong gusto mong bilhin? Screw sa likod ng CPU?"

Silence.

Somewhere in the shop, a Windows XP error sound echoed in the distance.

I didn't blink. I stared at him with anime-level determination.

> Me (serious):

"Sir, I may be poor… but I have something more powerful than money."

> Salesman (sarcastic):

"Anong meron ka, anak?"

> Me (points to head):

"Revenge arc."

He blinked again. Slowly.

The kind of blink that screams: this kid needs prayer.

---

I didn't give up.

I searched shady forums and cursed websites that probably gave my phone ten viruses per click.

Step 1:

Find discarded parts from internet cafés, tech dumps, or… ex-boyfriends?

I blinked.

"Challenge accepted."

And just like that, my ₱3 dream officially became a ₱0 mission impossible.

Next stop?

The junkyard.

With hope in my pocket and vengeance in my heart, I took one last sip of lukewarm 3-in-1 coffee…

…and stepped into my villain arc.

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Scene: The Junkyard (a.k.a. The Land of Lost Tech and Dignity)

That night, I snuck into the junkyard.

Mask on. Cap low.

Like a cool villain on a budget.

The air smelled like rust, regret, and rats with authority issues.

climbed the cyclone fence like it owed me money.

Scraped my leg. Almost cried. Didn't. I'm a legend.

Finally reached the top… dropped halfway… survived. Barely.

Then I saw the gate.

Unlocked. Just… there.

Waiting.

So what did I do?

I jumped down, opened the gate from inside, walked out…

Then opened it again—dramatically—and walked back in like a man on a mission.

Because entrances matter.

Even if no one's watching.

No big deal.

It's villain work.

Then-

I moved like an action star:

Rolling, jumping, sliding—

Even if there was nothing to roll over.

Just me and my imagination doing parkour on gravel.

And then—

I jumped again.

And fell.

Straight into a pit of mud.

> "OH SH—"

I froze.

It smelled like expired lugaw mixed with wet socks and low grades.

I held my breath.

Tried not to inhale failure.

I crawled toward a small rusted door.

Opened it like I was unlocking the vault of my dreams.

Do you know what I found?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing!

Not a single hidden treasure.

No glowing briefcase.

No hacker-grade gear waiting to choose me as the chosen one.

Just a dusty old CPU that looked like it was assembled during the Jurassic period.

And a keyboard—model name proudly printed in faded ink:

"KB-Dinosaur."

The spacebar was missing.

The backspace squeaked like a haunted mouse.

There were cobwebs shaped like middle fingers.

I sat there.

Dripping mud.

Dripping regret.

> "So this is what rock bottom looks like—with WiFi."

I looked up at the sky.

No answers.

Just a single mosquito flying by… judgmentally.

And with that,

I stood up.

Shook off the mud.

And made the boldest decision of the night:

> "I'm just gonna search online again."

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[Thank you for reading,God bless]

"They said follow your dreams. Mine led me to a junkyard full of tetanus and regret."