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My sister hugs me and says, “We all deserve our own little heaven. Just promise you will try.”
“Don’t you write thrillers? Because that sounds sappy, like a romance novel.”
Aurora sighs. After they put their cups in the sink, I walk them down the hallway. Instead of leaving out of the front door, they take the curved stairs up.
“If you go inside that room and she smells any germs, I will hold you accountable.”
Chiara pats her chest with fake emotion. “Aww, he cares.”
“No, I just don’t want her to die on me.”
“That’s a start,” Aurora adds.
When they finally bring their asses downstairs, I walk them outside. They all hop in their golf carts and drive away.
Sitting inside my Aston, I lean back on the headrest, enjoying the last few peaceful minutes of my life.
I visit my barber for a haircut and a shave, then I return home. Standing in the shower, I stare at my dick hanging limply. At least it’s healing nicely.
“I know, buddy.”
With a towel wrapped around my hips, I walk out.
Wearing impeccable suits, Kieran, Cato, and Hayden await me inside my bedroom. Kieran sits in the armchair while Hayden looks out the window, and Cato leans against the wall. Each one of them assesses me. I jerk my chin in greeting, causing them to grumble.
Changing into a black bespoke suit, I arrange my tie and put on my black leather shoes. Forming a circle around me, each one of them squeezes my shoulder. Cato raises an imaginary toast, clearing his throat. I prepare myself for whatever shit will come out of his mouth. “To your dick. May it rest in peace.”
“It has served you with loyalty and dedication,” joins Hayden, barely containing his laughter.
“He will be remembered, and we’ll never forget his sacrifice,” finishes Kieran with a solemn expression.
“Assholes.” I chuckle. Their friendship is the most valuable thing in my life.
Outside, we each get into our cars.
I speed away. If I wanted to procrastinate, now would be the perfect time to slow down.
I press the accelerator straight into the wreck of her.
My daily motto has become to ignore. Ignore the impending doom of the unknown as I rip my virtual enemies apart. I have never played as aggressively or as determined as I have in the past weeks. Four weeks are nothing compared to the years I have worked to become the pro gamer I am today. If I continue this way, I will soon secure my spot among the top five best players.
“Fantastic game,” Noah says, and we all nod. When Marcus and Kendrick leave the chat, it’s just us.
“Not that I am complaining, but...,” Noah begins.
“I’m not good with change.” I offer the truth, but my tone doesn’t leave room for this discussion to get more personal.
He sighs, playing with a strand of his hair on the top of his head; it’s nearly falling over in his eyes. There are preconceived images of how gamers look: unfit and unkempt. Noah does not fit the image. He earns more from the brands he represents than from the game. He is also social and outgoing. I am the ultimate introvert, but as a team, we fit, and that’s all that matters.
I hear Cameron’s name, and I spin in my chair. I have seen his face daily from the TV screen on the opposite wall in my room.
I squint my eyes at him. He wears that arrogance, fitting his custom-made suits. Every word, every smile, is a weapon he uses to disarm people. And he uses it well. His hypnotic charm leaves everyone wanting more. As if he was born to be in the public eye, born to lead. What I’ve learned about him comes from television reports, but they leave more questions than answers.
Who are you beneath this persona? My curiosity has become an obsession.
“Interested in politics?” Noah asks.
I thought I had disconnected from the game.
