Two weeks later
The hustle and bustle of hurried personnel and gamer celebrities, all talking a mile a minute into their headsets and to their entourages, was just about all Ducky could concentrate on as a full-blown panic attack threatened to take him under. His racing heartbeat and the feeling of losing his breath came on way too quickly to control. If he didn’t calm down, he was certain to pass smooth out.
“Breathe,” Greer hissed directly into Ducky’s face, gripping both of Ducky’s shoulders, driving him into a darkened corner backstage at The Game Awards show.
“You need to go out there and do this for me,” he practically begged Greer. Ducky bent forward, tucking his head as far between his legs as the tight pants would allow, wishing he’d had the forethought to bring a brown paper bag. Why hadn’t Dallas thought of that?
He slowly closed his eyes, praying he didn’t blackout right where he stood. Why would he have ever thought he could pull off something like this?
“Stand up. You’ll crease your jacket.” Based on the closeness of Greer’s voice when the command came, Greer had also leaned over. Ducky didn’t bother to open his eyes, nor did he do as Greer instructed. He couldn’t. All the effort he could muster was to reach for the button on his suit, work it open and let the suit coat hang free.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t do this. You go out there and represent us.” The rapid-fire words came on a long exhale. He was seriously going to throw up. He hated being social, let alone having to speak in front of an audience. The thought of so many people watching made his stomach roil. Light-colored circles played against the black backdrop of his eyelids. “I’m gonna make a fool out of StreamTrainer.”
“Mr. Reigns, there’s been a change in plans,” a woman said, lifting Ducky’s hope that the change included cutting him from the show entirely. Anyone could see he was clearly unable to perform. “We’re going to extend your segment to include Ben Schwartz’s presentation of the newSonic the Hedgehogmovie trailer.” The comforting weight of someone’s hand flattened against his back, patting gently. “It’s better this way. Ben will do all the heavy lifting out there, don’t worry. Jim Carey’s doing an exclusive remote. Based on how nervous he is, it looks like it all came together perfectly. Very exciting,” she said swiftly and succinctly, talking ninety miles an hour in her exuberance. “No one knows it’s coming.”
“Great,” Greer replied just as enthusiastically. Only Ducky knew that Greer had no idea what theSonic the Hedgehogmovie franchise meant to the gaming world. He probably had no idea who Sonic was.
At the same time, Ducky shook his head. “Nothing can change. I memorized my lines. I know it’ll take exactly twenty-three steps for me to hit my mark. That can’t change.”
“Duncan, correct?” she asked, bending over to try to look him in the eyes. “The steps don’t change. All you have to do is read the new lines from the monitor. There’re only slight changes to include Sonic. The feed’s speed is based on your reading progress. Ben’s a pro. He’ll handle everything. It was always planned to be this way, we just had to keep it a secret.”
Under normal circumstances, Ducky would be all over anything Sonic related. He’d been a fan of the game and the show all his life. Even Ben Schwartz was a longtime favorite of Ducky’s but the anxiety of a script change on top of the panic attack ready to spill over made his flight response double time. Surely there was someone better suited to be on the stage for the length of two presentations.
An old school compact disc was placed in his line of vision. He lifted his head enough to see a grinning Ben Schwartz standing in their small circle. The excitement of a celebrity crush had him gripping the disc being handed to him and rising. “You take this. Put it in the breast pocket of that fancy suit, and when I say trailer, you pull it out and show the audience. I have a joke planned as if the trailer is on that disc then I’m going to take it from you. It’s a breakable disc and will snap in two. Like I broke the only copy. You know, like we don’t stream things these days.” Ben laughed out loud at his joke. His reaction was enough to have Greer and the backstage hand laughing too.
“Easy peasy,” Ben added, then clapped his hands together with a big giant grin still plastered on his face.
“I’m Ben, by the way, and I got you, bro.” Ben stuck out his hand in a good-natured greeting as if his plan should solve all Ducky’s worry.
Unfortunately, it didn’t. The sound of his drumming heartbeat distracted him from immediately returning the handshake.
“I’m Greer Lockhart. This silent guy is Duncan Reigns. He goes by Ducky, and he’s nervous,” Greer said, opening Ducky’s suit coat and placing the CD in his breast pocket. “Ducky, look at me. You’ve got to calm down.”
Dallas came through their small circle with a bottle of water in hand. His laser beam focus zeroed in on Ducky. “They’re the StreamTrainer guys,” Ben said to Greer, using all the animation he usually had on television, completely missing the dynamic of Dallas swooping in to save the day.
Ben waggled a finger toward Ducky before hooking a thumb Dallas’s direction. “I knew I knew you. He’s the one from the commercials that makes us all look bad underneath our clothes.”
“Here. Take a drink of this.” Dallas didn’t stop his forward movement until he’d pushed Ducky back several more steps. “Give me a minute with him?” Dallas used the tone he always did to gather Ducky’s full attention and it worked as usual. Ducky instantly calmed, looking straight into Dallas’s eyes.
“Is he going to be all right?” Ben asked in that same cheery tone. Ducky caught Greer’s hesitant nod in his peripheral, but otherwise he stayed silent.
“Have I ever put you in a situation you couldn’t handle?” Dallas asked Ducky.
“No. But you know how I—” Ducky replied.
“No.” Dallas’s finger lifted to Ducky’s lips, silencing him from saying anything more. “Listen to me, Ducky. This is your world.” His finger circled around their heads, encompassing the venue. “The people out there watching this award show are your people. This is no different from going live on Twitch, and you do that all the time.” Dallas’s hand swept toward the entry to the stage. “Now, I want you to go out there with your head held high, hands together tightly and say what you’re supposed to say. Own your shit, Duck. Be the man you want to be. The mover of mountains. You’re already there. We all see the real you. It’s time you did too.”
“Dallas, they changed what I’m supposed to say,” Ducky said but Dallas’s motivational speech did help edge off the anxiety attack. Ducky was beginning to breathe normally again.
“You got this. Trust me.” Dallas took Ducky’s lapels, his thumbs skimming down the front. “You’re not the same guy you used to be. You own a multimillion-dollar company. You’re a badass and it shows. Do this to prove to yourself that you’re no longer that same misplaced man. You’ve figured your shit out. It’s all any of us ever want out of life and you did it.”
“I didn’t do it alone. You helped me,” Ducky said, staring Dallas straight in the eyes.
“And you helped me,” Dallas said forcefully, his stare direct, honest, and strong. “We have each other’s backs.”
Dallas had been using all these same arguments for months now. Each time Ducky flipped out, Dallas backed him into a corner, asking him to believe in himself. It worked. Ducky finally nodded. The sole reason for all his transformation efforts was to find the inner balance within to help match his outward accomplishments.
He lifted his palms, letting them follow the same trail as Dallas’s fingers. Ducky then squared his shoulders and drew in a deep, cleansing breath.
