A prompt asked for camera access. He granted it. The Chromebook’s tiny webcam blinked to life. For a second, he saw himself: tired eyes, hoodie, the faint acne on his chin. Then the screen warped. The red sedan’s dummy dissolved and was replaced by a polygonal avatar. An avatar that matched his posture. His slouch. His distance from the screen.
He clicked.
He said, “Actually, I’ll walk.”
It started, as these things often do, with a bored teenager and a banned URL.