“I’m going to send you down to Horace Lin today,” Nia says. “Did you meet him yet?”
“No, but I recognise the name. Art director?”
I don’t dare acknowledge the tingle in my skin at the mention of his title. It’s not like he’s going to ask the HR assistant for help with design, but maybe I’ll get to see some of the latest sketches they’ve been working on. It makes my drawing-fingers itch to be used again.
“The head of development is sick, so Horace is inducting the new starters down in the auditorium. He might need some assistance, and you know the drill.”
“Great, I’ll do my best. Do you mind if I ask if he’s got any open roles for me hidden away?” I grin, knowing I’m pushing it. I’ve already been over the workforce plans with a fine-tooth comb, looking for roles I could slip into with my useless CV.
She doesn’t dignify that question with a response, and I push myself off the fluffy chair with greatdifficulty.
I enter the mountain-themed auditorium and hear the group of new starters before I see them. Their voices are bubbling with excitement.
“Check out this LED waterfall feature. It’s even making a trickling sound,” one high-pitched voice says.
“Is this real or fake? I can’t tell,” a deeper voice says. I round the corner of the grey-carpeted steps-hill, and see the fifteen newbies gathered on different levels, talking in clusters. Some point at the variety of exciting interior, some are huddled around phones and tablets.
So these are the people Mark has had specialist consultants headhunt from all over the world to save the company. The best of the best. A bunch of geniuses, apparently.
“Hi,” I say to the three people huddled on the edge of the group. “What are you looking at?”
“Hey, Tolu is showing us their Kitty Cat Bit game early sketches,” the smallest of them says. “I’m Naresh Kapoor, by the way,” he says, stretching out a tiny hand. “Call me Noor.”
“I’m Tolu,” the one with blue hair says and waves from behind their tablet.
“Kaia,” the mousy-blonde says, giving me a small nod.
I introduce myself, grinning, and Kaia responds with a twitch of her mouth that could resemble a smile.
“What’s Kitty Cat Bit?” I ask, and they all swivel to me with wide eyes.
“You’ve never played it?” Noor asks, lifting his bushy black eyebrows over round eyes.
“No,” I say and shrug, catching Tolu’s brown eyes over the screen. They smile and shrug in response.
“Can I see?” I add.
Kaia moves over so I can get a better view of the screen, and I’m invited into a world I’ve never known before. Early game design. There are sketches of characters and story-boards. Simple background drawings.
I want to know everything.
“How did you draw this? Are you an artist?”
“Not really, but I can draw certain things.” Tolu moves on to explain game mechanics, apparently what draws people in and keeps the game fun. As they talk and the others interject with their experiences and favourite games, I’m sucked in and feel like I’m floating on a cloud. When they ask about me I eagerly start telling them about going to UAL, but it’s not long before there’s a tingling in my neck. Goosebumps form on my arms, and I realise it’s quiet around us, except for my own voice that’s now echoing in my ears. I stop talking and look up. All eyes are on someone behind me, and I turn to find Mark Becker and his very fiery hazel eyes glaring at me.
CHAPTER THREE
this is life
MARK
There they are. The crème de la crème of budding developers and game designers. Headhunted inventors, creators, long-time reviewers with millions of followers, and extraordinary students from elite universities. Altogether, they make up the plan to revitalise Infinio Games.
I don’t usually welcome new starters, but it’s rare we have this kind of calibre coming in all at once.
After Damian torched his career as CEO, we lost too many of our top talents to keep the company in the lead. This recruitment drive is expensive, and it has to work. I can’t see the company I founded fifteen years ago crumble because my friend lacked self-control, willpower, and any semblance of consideration for what’s best for our employees and for our company.
I was always the back-office master. The backbone of our business, focused on go-to-market strategies, retention of customers, and revenue growth. Basically, keeping our shareholders happy. Now I need to do Damian’s part as well. Even with the new art director, it takes its toll on me. Being the face of the company, taking decisions on design, making appearanceslike this, exuding energy, endless fucking interviews with press and media—I hate it. I hate the attention.
