The lesson didn’t arrive dramatically.

There was no single moment where everything collapsed or exploded. Instead, it settled over Gary slowly, like damp seeping into a wall. Subtle at first. Then impossible to ignore.

It started with small, public inconveniences. Having to turn down food he would normally demolish without thinking. Excusing himself from conversations because laughing too hard sent a sharp reminder through his jaw. Catching people glancing at his face and then quickly looking away, polite enough not to comment but curious enough to notice.

Each moment on its own was manageable. Together, they formed something heavier.

Gary found himself explaining the situation more than he wanted to. “Just a tooth thing.” “Yeah, nearly sorted.” “No, I’m fine.” Each explanation shaved a little more credibility off the story he’d been telling himself about being basically healed.

Someone made a joke about dentists. Someone else added a story about a mate who’d ignored a problem and paid for it later. The laughter wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t kind either. It was observational. Detached.

Gary smiled along, jaw clenched, humiliation prickling under his skin.

Later that night, alone in his flat, the ache returned properly. Not catastrophic. Not urgent. Just firm enough to demand attention. He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it might offer advice.

This wasn’t failure. But it was proof.

Proof that half-commitment produced half-results. That feeling better wasn’t the same as being better. That stubbornness had stopped being funny somewhere along the way.

Gary felt tired. Not just physically. Mentally. Tired of negotiating with himself. Tired of pretending this was bad luck instead of consequence.

He picked up the antibiotic packet and read the instructions again, properly this time. Every line felt uncomfortably reasonable.

The choice in front of him was no longer dramatic. It was mundane.

Do the boring thing and accept humility. Or keep escalating stupidity until the situation forced his hand.

Gary closed his eyes and sighed.

He knew which option would hurt less.

Accept humility and follow the plan fully → Page 81

Double down on recklessness and escalate the chaos → Page 88