Kirby hadn’t planned on joining Chaos, Joe DeFillipo’s Skool community, let alone hooking up with its founder. But Joe had a way of pulling people into his orbit, both online and offline.
What started as banter in a live session quickly turned into long calls, which turned into late-night visits to Joe’s place.
Jenna, and the others in the community, thought there was simply a flurry of back and forth posts and comments. No one knew the truth of what was happening behind the scenes.
“Kirby,” Joe had teased one night, lying back on his couch, his grin lazy and smug, “you’re not just here for the community, are you?”
Kirby, sprawled beside him, raised an eyebrow. “What can I say? You’re entertaining... in more ways than one.”
Joe laughed, leaning in close, his voice low. “Entertaining, huh? Careful—flattery like that might go straight to my head.”
“Among other places,” Kirby shot back, smirking as Joe pulled him in for another kiss.
Their connection burned hot, fast, and wild. They kept it casual—or so they said. When they weren’t together, Kirby was lighting up the Chaos community with sharp wit and relentless challenges, while Joe played along, the perfect foil to Kirby’s provocations. Jenna, the group’s sharp-eyed moderator, definitely noticed.
“You two are ridiculous,” she’d said during a private call one day, watching them bicker like an old married couple during a live stream. “Do I even want to know what’s going on here?”
Joe just laughed it off. “We’re just vibing, Jenna. Don’t overthink it.”
But Jenna was right. The tension between Kirby and Joe wasn’t just playful—it was real, raw, and impossible to ignore.
Everything came to a head one chaotic night. Kirby, never one to back down from a challenge, decided to put Joe’s reputation to the test.
“Twenty bucks if you drink twenty beers tonight,” Kirby typed in the chat during a live session, his tone daring.
Joe, lounging in his chair, smirked at the screen. “Twenty beers? For twenty bucks? You think I’m that cheap?”
“Prove me wrong,” Kirby fired back, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Jenna, always the voice of reason, immediately chimed in. “Joe, do not let this end with me explaining alcohol poisoning to your fanbase.”
The crowd roared with laughter, but Joe leaned forward, his grin widening. “Kirby, if I do this, you’re gonna owe me more than twenty bucks. Maybe... dinner? My pick?”
“Sure,” Kirby replied, his heartbeat quickening. “If you make it past beer number ten.”
The $20 hit Joe’s account, and the chat went wild. Joe cracked open the first beer, then the second, basking in the cheers. But by the fifth, his confidence started to waver.
“Alright, listen,” Joe said, laughing as he set the sixth beer down. “I’m not actually doing twenty. Let’s not get crazy here.”
The chat laughed it off, but Kirby didn’t. He felt the sting—not just from the broken challenge, but from something deeper.
The disappointment cut deep. It wasn’t just about the beers or the $20. It was the principle—the trust, the unspoken bond that held Chaos together. For Kirby, it was a betrayal.
After a night of simmering resentment, Kirby made a decision. The next morning, he left the community. No fanfare, no dramatic exits—just silence. The churn was as sudden as it was devastating.
Joe noticed immediately.
“Where’s Kirby?” he asked during the next session, trying to sound casual. But Jenna wasn’t having it.
“You know exactly where he went,” she said, her tone sharper than usual.
Joe sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I messed up, didn’t I?”
“Big time,” Jenna said. “And don’t think you can fix this with your usual charm. You’re gonna have to actually try.”
For days, Joe wrestled with what to do. The community felt hollow without Kirby, and he knew it wasn’t just about the $20 or the beers—it was about everything they hadn’t said to each other.
Joe and Kirby parted ways with a sorrow goodbye. Neither wanted to say goodbye, but it was what needed to be done.