An asynchronous iOS concept that turns fading group chats into a weekly game — a rotating judge, a creative challenge, and a loop designed to keep friends close long after the novelty wears off.
01 — Overview
As young adults leave college or relocate for work, close friend groups fragment across time zones, careers, and life stages. Messaging apps and social feeds keep us updated on the big milestones, but they fail to maintain everyday closeness. Relationships don't fade because people stop caring — they fade because they lose the spontaneous, organic triggers to do things together.
SideQuest turns a fading group chat into a structured weekly ritual. Inspired by the British comedy game show Taskmaster, each week a rotating judge sets a creative, low-stakes challenge. Friends submit a photo or video, the judge ranks them, and points stack across a single round before resetting — a fresh start, every week.
02 — User Research
SideQuest is about a problem I'm living, so I took it to the people living it. I ran 18 generative interviews with peers aged 22–30 — friends now scattered across six cities, a mix of genders, and every kind of post-grad life stage: some in grad school, some in med or law school, others working full-time across different industries. Same open-ended guide each time, then I coded the transcripts for patterns. The goal: stress-test my core assumptions and find the real design problem before drawing a single screen.
Synthesizing the eighteen interviews surfaced two archetypes the product has to serve — and the tension between them shaped the core mechanic.
A few years out of college, their once-tight group is now spread across cities. They're usually the one trying to keep everyone together — and quietly worried the group is slipping away.
A low-effort, recurring reason to stay close — without always being the one who has to organize it.
The chat only reacts when something happens. The social load falls on them, and vague plans rarely land.
Part of a small, creative, emotionally close group. They cherish shared moments but find ranking and winning-or-losing more threatening than fun.
Shared rituals and inside jokes — the togetherness, minus the pressure of competing.
Leaderboard-driven apps feel alienating and performative — so the product needs a genuinely low-stakes mode.
03 — Strategy
The research made the design problem unmistakable: Week 2 — not Week 1 — is where rituals die. Novelty handles the first round; the real challenge is engineering a reason to come back after the shine wears off. To make the ritual survive past novelty, I anchored the product to two foundational pillars:
04 — Interaction Architecture
To make the mechanics reinforce psychological safety and bonding rather than stressful competition, I split the core architecture into two distinct flows — mapped first as low-fidelity wireframes to lock the structure and pacing before any visual design.
SideQuest uses a Submit-to-See wall: friends can't view any submissions until they upload their own — everyone else's entries stay blurred behind a frosted preview card. The moment a user posts, the space transforms into a private social room where contestants react to and joke about each other's entries. That shifts the experience from a high-stakes contest into a collaborative thing friends do simply because they want to.
Contestant flow — the frosted Submit-to-See wall, the upload step, and the social space that unlocks once you've posted.
On the judge's side, the interface walks them through reviewing each full-screen entry and assigning rankings — deliberately avoiding corporate, punitive language like "best" or "loser." On Reveal Night, the results screen celebrates the winner but shows everyone's points and positions clearly underneath, and the scoring model guarantees every active player walks away with at least 1 point. That sidesteps winner-take-all dynamics and reframes the week as a collective effort.
Judge flow — reviewing each entry full-screen, assigning ranks, and posting the reveal-night results where everyone earns at least a point.
The whole journey as one map: getting into a group up top, then the weekly loop split into the judge's week and the contestant's week — each forking on the single action the week hinges on.
Getting in flows into the weekly loop; each week forks on whether the judge picks and the contestant posts in time.
05 — Visual Craft
The visual language had to feel quirky and playful without tipping into childish or overwhelming. SideQuest consciously avoids the clean, sterile aesthetics of modern SaaS and social platforms, positioning itself instead as an analog party game — a private, tactile hangout rather than a public broadcast feed.
Playfair Display (expressive editorial serif) for headers signals an analog party game; DM Sans handles interface text to keep operations clear. The pairing pushes the personality away from "productivity tool" toward "board game night."
Palette — rejecting social-media blue
06 — Usability Testing
Once the first hi-fi prototype was clickable, I ran moderated usability sessions with five of the same peers from discovery — each walked the full loop (create a group, judge a week, submit an entry, read the results) while I watched for friction and thought-aloud reactions. Judged against the one question that matters — does this actually keep a scattered group close, week after week? — the interface held up. The risks lived in the gaps between taps: the waiting, the one slow judge, the friend who's too busy this week.
All nine issues sorted cleanly by severity. The five that could break the ritual — every Critical and High — are below, with the two Criticals detailed in full; the three Mediums and one Low were smaller polish items.
Nearly every fix here became a feature in the build: the partial-roster start, the judge time-box, the "I'm here" path, the synchronized reveal night, and the Yearbook all trace directly back to a finding on this page.
07 — Iteration
Two iterations pushed SideQuest from a game loop into a place a group actually hangs out — one adding conversation in the moment, the other giving the group a way to look back together.
Reviewing my own design, I realized the loop still felt like "complete the challenge and you're done." The whole point of the product — bonding — was missing the back-and-forth that actually makes a group feel close. I wanted people to discuss, react, and banter inside the app, not just submit and leave. So I layered conversation into the three moments that carry the most social energy:
Together, these turn the app from a task you finish into a space the group keeps coming back to — the difference between a chore and a hangout.
Conversation at the three highest-energy moments — banter when the challenge drops, reactions and comments on each entry, and a thread when the ranking lands.
The second realization: lasting closeness is built on looking back at shared memories together, but the design had no structured way to revisit the past. That led to The Yearbook.
To keep the information architecture clean, the Yearbook lives inside the Group Tab — so the primary game interface stays uncluttered. It's a grid of past milestones: a thumbnail of each week's winning submission alongside the winner's avatar. Tapping into a week opens an immersive time capsule — every friend's entry, the original captions, and the historical comment threads from that results night. Temporary interactions become permanent memories; inside jokes are preserved.
From the Group tab into the Yearbook — each past week kept as a capsule of the challenge, the winning entry, and every submission.
08 — Final Designs
Not one screen in the prototype is a feature for its own sake. Each traces back to the single job the product exists to do: keep a scattered group genuinely close, week after week. Groups don't fade because people stop caring — they fade because there's nothing to do together. Walk through the core flows below, end to end — each one a connected prototype, with the design decisions that earn its place against that goal.
The real cold start isn't one user — it's a whole group. Onboarding starts the first week at three with a one-tap re-nudge for stragglers, deep-links invites straight past the sign-up cliff, and routes each member by how many groups they're in — the fixes for the cold-start gaps from testing, now in motion.
Each week the role rotates to a new judge, who picks from a curated bank of five prompts — six categories, 1–3 effort dots — or writes a custom 120-character challenge, then locks it. A 24-hour clock, with a group-vote fallback, closes the judge bottleneck testing surfaced, so the week always starts on time no matter who's busy.
The engagement engine, live. The submit-to-see wall keeps every entry blurred until you post your own — then opens into the private social space, with full-screen reactions, threaded comments, and the one-tap "I'm here" path for a busy week. Anticipation, participation, and banter in a single move.
On the synchronized reveal night, the judge reviews each entry full-screen, ranks them 1–2–3, and posts. There's deliberately no "best" or "loser" — every active player earns at least a point, so the week reads as a collective effort, and the results land with their own thread for the gloating and recount demands.
The looking-back layer from the iteration phase, in the Group tab: a scrollable archive of every past week — challenge, winning entry, full ranking — that reopens as a complete time capsule of entries, captions, and comment threads. Standings reset each round, but the memories stay.
Every flow is in service of one thing: giving a scattered group a reason to show up for each other — and making sure no gap (a slow judge, a quiet midweek, a busy friend) is ever allowed to break the habit.
A few stationary flows that keep the core loop legible and handle the real-world states a scattered group actually runs into.
Three fixed tabs keep the whole loop one tap apart: This Week (active challenge + submission), Standings (the round leaderboard), and Group (members, settings, and the Yearbook).
The open screen routes by how many groups you're in, so no one hits a cold dashboard: zero → create or join; one → straight in; two or more → a dashboard that flags the group that needs you now.
Real life means more than one circle. From the switcher you can spin up or join another group via the same two-minute path — without turning home into an endless feed that dilutes the one that matters.
09 — Measuring Success
SideQuest is a concept, not a launched product — so the honest end of this case study isn't a metric, it's a plan. The whole bet rests on one question the design can't answer on its own: does the ritual actually hold past Week 2? Here's how I'd put that to the test.
Without a live baseline, exact numbers up front would be guesswork. What I can define is what to measure and why — every signal tied to a specific design decision, so a weak result points to the exact mechanic to fix.
Week-3 participation. The single signal that answers the core bet — does the ritual survive past novelty? If most of a group is still submitting (or tapping "I'm here") in week 3, the Week-2 cliff the research warned about has been cleared. Everything else is diagnostic.
The supporting signals each isolate one mechanic, so the data tells me where the loop leaks:
| Signal | The question it answers | The design decision it tests |
|---|---|---|
| Round completion | Do rounds reach reveal night without me nudging anyone? | The judge time-box, auto-pick, and group-vote fallback |
| Repeat rounds | Do groups choose to start a second round? | Whether the loop compounds or fizzles after one round |
| Return after a miss | Does a busy week turn into an exit? | The "I'm here" path and the open-after-judging wall |
| Reactions & comments | Is the group actually talking, not just submitting? | The midweek social layer |
| Post rate vs. lurk rate | Are people participating or just watching? | The submit-to-see wall |
Concrete targets come after week one — set against each group's own baseline, not a number picked in advance. The first run isn't about clearing an arbitrary bar; it's about learning the real shape of the funnel.
Recruit 2–3 real friend groups from the interview pool and run one full round. Instrument the funnel end to end — invite → first submission → reveal night → week-3 return — with a short weekly check-in. The signal I'd be watching for: a week-3 participation rate that holds well above the natural drop-off, and at least one round that completes the judge hand-off without me intervening.
10 — Reflections