AllFreeNovel
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Gamers need a few strengths. The best of us hone them with time. Focus is one of them and I enhanced mine with the audio system I installed in my room. No other player can sneak up behind me—I’d hear it.
Creativity as well. Tips and tricks you learn with time. You need energy to play for hours, and when I say hours, it’s over ten on regular days, but it mostly pushes up to fourteen. Endurance. It’s a journey, finding your game and then growing in it.
My fingers fly over the keyboard, every cell in my body connected to the game.
“Watch out.”
I shoot the adversary who tries to sneak behind Noah’s back. I would have never guessed I could be a team player, but I’m happy I am, even though I am also known for my individual strike.
When the first day ends, my stomach growls with a vengeance. I open the door and see a tray on the floor. Picking it up, I read a note from my mother.
“Love you.”
Tears spring to my eyes and I wipe them off. It’s the exhaustion, but my endorphin rush should have prevented me from falling into this pitfall of emotions. I can’t do anything but focus on winning.
Slurping my smoothie, now tasting stale after so many hours, I chow down the protein sandwich greedily.
I put the glass and wrapper outside my door when I’m done. Amanda, our trusted family housekeeper, knows the drill.
After a shower, I wipe the fog from the mirror and stare at myself. This me is no one interesting. She’s weak and filled with phobias. Thin, pale, breakable. Splashing some cold water on my face, I put myself back together.
With my headset on, everything else around me disappears.
There is a difference only in nuance when it comes to games and sports. Hundreds of thousands of fans watch us. They all cheer, going crazy for their favorites, but for me, it happens online. I could never step on a stage and be there. Some throw their malice at me, at my VIP status, that I don’t have to travel with my team. No one knows the real reason. No one will ever know the real reason either, but according to my management team, my worth has increased with the mystery. It works for me.
When the buzz winds down, the team consisting of The Legend, a.k.a. Noah, Kill4, a.k.a. Kendrick, The Warlord, a.k.a. Marcus, and I have a video call.
“We won, but again, who doubted it?” Noah says with a smug expression. He’s number eight worldwide, making him the best on our team, but I would never tell him that to his face. He has a big enough ego.
“VioletV, you were amazing,” Kendrick says.
Marcus nods, munching on a snack.
“We all were.”
When they log out, it’s me and Noah. He puts his hand on his face, his dark eyes boring into me.
There’s something about him. Those high cheekbones and arched brows give him that pretty-boy look.
“Will I ever get to see you behind all that?”
“Why would you?”
He shakes his head, and when he opens his mouth, I rush to add, “Where’s my thank you?” I change the topic by reminding him I saved him from an opponent’s side attack.
“I had that,” he says with a boyish grin.
“Oh, I will just let him get to you next time.”
I smile because we both know we have each other’s backs.
“V . . .”
“I will never change my mind.”
“How long have we known each other now?”
“Four years.”
