June 20, 2010.
For the first time ever in James's life, he had a good night's sleep. Thomas knew that James wasn't able to sleep peacefully on the bed as his mind was drowning from overthinking things he couldn't control.
In fact, the only thing that is making it hard for Thomas to recuperate in this new alternate world was the memories of James. He could feel his pain, like it also happened to him. But he knew that at one point in time, he would grew accustomed to it and not feel about it anymore.
His eyes fluttered open and rose his upper body with outstretched limbs and a yawn. This is going to be another day, and he was not going to waste this day idling. He has to grind, he has to lock in.
But just as he was about to swung his leg over the edge of the bed, there was a loud knock on the door.
"James! James! Where's your rent?"
The voice belonged to Mang Erning, the perpetually irritated landlord who lived on the ground floor.
Thomas winced.
"Coming!" he shouted back.
He scrambled to put on a shirt and pants, cursing under his breath. In James's memories, Mang Erning was not the type of person you could stall more than twice. He already gave James three extensions, and based on the eviction notice from yesterday, this was his final warning.
Thomas cracked open the door. Sure enough, Mang Erning was there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like a hawk.
"You said you'd pay last week."
"I know, I know. I'm working on it, Mang Erning. I'll have it soon. Just a few more days," Thomas said, trying to keep his voice calm.
"Few more days? You've been saying that for two months. I got other tenants waiting for this unit."
Thomas scratched his head, thinking fast. "Listen, I just released a new game last night. It's taking off. I've already made seven thousand pesos in ad revenue. Just give me two more days and I'll settle this month's rent—plus a little extra for your trouble."
Mang Erning squinted at him. "Game? You and your games. I've seen your kind before. But fine. Two days, ha. Not a day more. If I don't see the color of your money by the 22nd, you're out. Deal?"
Thomas nodded. "Deal."
The landlord grunted and turned away. As soon as the footsteps faded down the creaking stairs, Thomas shut the door and leaned against it with a sigh.
"That was close."
He checked his AdMob dashboard again—₱7,100 and climbing. He figured the game would hit ten thousand by noon, at the rate it was going. That would cover rent and a little bit of breathing room.
But money wasn't enough. Not now.
Momentum was everything.
The goal wasn't to make a living—it was to make history.
He turned toward the desk and started mapping out his next moves on an old notebook he found under the bed. The pages were yellowed and had doodles of James's old ideas. Some were actually promising, in a crude, unrefined way.
"First, stabilize," he muttered, jotting notes.
Pay rent: ₱10,500
Pay internet and electricity: ₱2,800
Food and basic supplies: ₱1,000
That was nearly fifteen thousand pesos. He wasn't there yet, but he was close. The in-game ad revenue was still climbing—₱7,100 this morning, and if the download count stayed steady or increased, he'd cross that threshold within the next twenty-four hours.
He just had to keep pushing.
"Just a little more," he muttered, eyes flicking back and forth between the console and his rough to-do list. "Two more days. I just need to keep pushing this to more people."
He pulled up the forums again, replying to comments, adding jokes and tips to game threads, stoking flames wherever someone mentioned FlapFlap Hero. He didn't have a team or a PR department—but he had Reddit, his fake accounts, and the knowledge of how the internet worked in this era.
It was almost addicting in itself, seeing the numbers rise with every refresh.
5,942 downloads.
₱9,100.
And then—ding.
A new email.
Subject: FlapFlap Hero on RageQuitTV
From: [email protected]
His heart stopped.
No way.
He yanked open the tab and typed FlapFlap Hero RageQuitTV on YouTube.
And there it was.
"I HATE THIS GAME AND I CAN'T STOP PLAYING | FlapFlap Hero Review"
RageQuitTV – 3.1 million subscribers – Uploaded 17 minutes ago
Thomas stared at the thumbnail: the familiar angry face of Ethan Cross, one of the biggest rage-review streamers of the decade. He was notorious for tearing games apart—but also inadvertently blowing them up in the process. If Ethan ranted about your game, it meant something. It meant virality. Fame. And a tidal wave of downloads.
He clicked the video.
"Okay, I'm gonna be real with you guys. This is the dumbest f***ing game I've played all year. Look at this—LOOK AT THIS! It's a flying egg with wings. It's flapping through pipes like it's training for the Olympics. I hate it. I genuinely hate it."
Smash cut to him dying at 4 points.
"FOUR?! F*** off. F*** OFF."
Cut again. He's red in the face, standing up from his chair, pacing.
"I'm not exaggerating—I've been at this for two hours and I haven't broken 20. My editor walked in and asked if I was okay. I screamed at him."
Laughter echoed from off-camera.
"Who made this?! Who hurt this man?! This game is ruining me. I swear, if I beat my high score, I'm uninstalling this forever."
Thomas couldn't stop smiling.
He scrolled to the comments. They were exploding.
"Ethan just sold me on this game through pure pain."
"Downloading right now. Wish me luck."
"I beat your score. Get rekt, nerd."
"BRO I CAN'T PUT IT DOWN HELP."
"Made it to 21. My girlfriend left me. Worth it."
"The dev is a menace and must be stopped."
Then came another video.
"This Game is CRACK. | FlapFlap Hero"
—Uploaded by: MobyGamesLive | 1.2M subscribers
"I played this game for five minutes... and then it was 4 a.m. and my dog was judging me. It's basic. It's broken. It's perfect. 9/10 would flap again."
Then another.
"FlapFlap Hero: How One Game is Taking Over the Internet"
—GameByteChannel | 950K subscribers
"We don't know who made it. We don't know why it exists. But we do know this—it's viral. It's infuriating. And it's printing ad revenue like it's 1999."
Thomas sat frozen, processing it all. His mouth slowly curled into a smirk.
He checked the dashboard again.
10,321 downloads.
₱12,900 in ad revenue.
Refresh.
11,210 downloads.
₱14,300.
He let out a breathless laugh.
"That's rent. That's the internet. That's food. That's everything."
He leaned back in his chair, arms spread out like a king on a throne made of cracked floor tiles and dusty wires.
This was it. The spark. The beginning.
June 21, 2010.
June 21, 2010 – Morning
Thomas rubbed his eyes as the morning sunlight peeked through the slats in the busted window. His body ached from sitting too long in a chair that had absolutely no business being called furniture, but he didn't care.
The first thing he did was reach for the mouse and refresh the dashboard.
Just one glance at the numbers and his breath hitched.
112,428 downloads.
₱142,870.24 in ad revenue.
His jaw dropped.
"What the hell…"
He blinked hard and leaned in, thinking it might be a graphical error, a glitch in the interface, maybe a browser bug. But no—the AdMob revenue chart updated again, slowly crawling upward.
₱143,091.56.
"No. Freaking. Way."
Thomas felt a cold chill crawl up his spine. Not fear. Excitement.
This wasn't just viral anymore—this was domination. This was what developers dreamed about, what entire studios tried to achieve with expensive ad campaigns and cross-platform pushes.
And here he was—barefoot, unshaven, sitting in a moldy apartment in Manila—with a game he made in twelve hours that now had over a hundred thousand players.
He checked the internet, reddit, facebook, everything.
He clicked over to Reddit first.
On /r/AndroidGaming, the front page was filled with FlapFlap Hero threads.
"Is anyone else losing sleep over this stupid bird?"
"FlapFlap Hero dev, if you're reading this—YOU'RE A MONSTER."
"Just beat 34. My fingers hurt. My soul hurts. I'm proud."
Thomas chuckled.
"Good. Let them suffer."
Then he switched to Facebook. He searched "FlapFlap Hero" and immediately got flooded with results. Dozens of posts from random users, all ranting and laughing and showing off their scores. One guy uploaded a video of him breaking his phone after dying at 28. Another posted a meme that read:
"This is FlapFlap Hero. You don't play it. It plays you."
Even local Facebook groups in the Philippines were flooded with the game. Gamers, college kids, working adults—everyone was playing it.
He checked YouTube next.
The RageQuitTV video had now hit 1.7 million views. New comments were coming in every second.
"I just lost two hours of my life. And I'm about to lose more."
"Devs like this should be arrested for war crimes."
"I need a FlapFlap Hero plushie now."
"Where's the leaderboard? I need to flex."
And then—new video uploads.
"My Mom Is Addicted to FlapFlap Hero."
—1.3M views, uploaded 4 hours ago.
"FlapFlap Hero in Real Life (Parody)"
—850K views, already trending in 3 countries.
There was even a guy who composed a piano version of the theme song. Thomas hadn't even written a theme song.
"Jesus," he muttered, rubbing his face. "This is spiraling out of control—in a good way."
Well—with over a hundred thousands pesos or about nearly 3,000 dollars, he could pay for the rent now and every debt that he owns.