by Suzanne Park
Nolan glanced away from me and met Ian’s authoritarian stare. “But you asked me to clean up all the PowerPoint slides for the board presentation.”
Ian let out a huge exasperated sigh, one that could fill up an entire balloon in one blow. “I’m asking you to pivot.”
“Pivot?” Nolan repeated. “But isn’t the board presentation really important?”
“Yes, but shift gears.” Ian looked at Joe. “Try to reschedule the board meeting. It’s probably too late but there’s too much negative shit happening and I can’t get ahead of it.” His gaze swept the room like a searchlight. “You guys can all go. Let’s meet again tomorrow, same time.” He clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, wait, before all of you leave, I had a cool idea for you guys this morning! I was thinking, maybe we should change the game completely, kind of a rebranding? Like, instead of strippers ridding the world of apocalyptic threats, maybe we make this a first-person shooter game that’s called Zombies or Hobos? The player would have to determine if it’s a hobo or a zombie before they shoot. It adds some strategy to the game. What do you think? It’s a little left field, I know.”
When no one responded other than offering him looks of surprise and horror, he asked, “Bad idea?”
Joe the PR guy, Kat, and I shouted in unison, “Bad idea!”
Ian looked at Nolan, who nodded silently.
“You’d have a lot of homeless advocacy groups go after you with pitchforks,” Kat explained. “And that’s the last thing you need right now. Oh, and in general it’s a pretty fucked-up idea. Shooting humans. Some of those guys are vets, you know.”
Ian nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
Nolan trailed Ian out the door, hanging back to talk to me before exiting. “Way to have my back in there, Mel,” he said, with resentment seeping into his voice.
I crossed my arms. “Well, look at it from my perspective. You don’t have any marketing experience, and you’re now leading two big marketing initiatives.”
He shook his head. “You dismissed me because you thought I couldn’t do something just because I’ve never done it before. Isn’t that what you’re always complaining about? People second-guessing you?” His accusation hit me like a wallop to the face.
Before I could explain myself, he was already gone.
Later, I found Nolan in the kitchen, pouring himself a coffee. “Don’t worry, I brought this mug from home. I didn’t steal it from anyone.”
Ouch.
I was terrible at apologies, but now was the time to try to get better at them. “I’m a hypocrite. You were right. I shouldn’t have dismissed you like that. You’re smart and you’re good at everything I’ve seen you do here. I’m sorry.” For some reason, I couldn’t just leave it at that. A simple, straightforward mea culpa. “But don’t fuck up the marketing stuff, please.” I meant it as a joke, but his face read not funny loud and clear.
He shrugged. “Fine.”
I expected him to say more. When he shoved his hands into his pockets and said nothing else, it was his signal we were done. The tightness remained in my chest, and the apology I offered him didn’t relieve any of that pressure. And it was all my fault.
Across the hall, Kat motioned for me to come over to her office. “For a gaming noob, you’ve managed to cause quite an epic shitstorm. You’ve even made that poor intern work overtime.”
“I know, I know.” I sighed. “What a mess. I didn’t want any of this to happen.”
She laughed. “People who cause epic shitstorms never, ever do.”
The truest words I’d ever heard.
Chapter Thirteen
Asher’s greenish-yellowish skin pallor scared me into examining the light fixtures in our shared office. Either the overhead fluorescents were so jacked up that they cast a pukey hue only on Asher’s side of the office or the lights were in working order and he looked like total vomitus shit.
“Asher? Do you still need another sick day? I’d rather you go home than breathe in your contaminated oxygen.”
He lifted his eyes from his laptop screen. If they narrowed any farther, they’d be closed. “I took a sick day yesterday. I don’t have any more PTO time, so I need to be here today, otherwise I’d need to take unpaid leave. But thanks for your concern.”
I booked a conference room for the day to get away from Asher’s germy air, because really, could I afford to get sick during this crisis, during this production crunch time? My essentials for a full day of conference room camping included a laptop, notebook, pen, cell phone, and water bottle.
Asher glanced up again, and this time I detected a half-relieved and half-smug look on his face. Before I left for the day we needed to talk about a few important things.
“So, Asher, I’m leaving now, but before I go I need to ask you something. Forgive my bluntness, but did you leak that game info to BetaGank?”
“Me?” He looked neither surprised nor guilty. He just looked feverishly sick. Goddamn pukey poker face, masking all emotions.
“Yes, you.” I needed to know if he leaked the news of my game to BetaGank and left me out to hang.
“You want the truth?” He took his hands off his keyboard and put them in his lap. “I was glad to see that info get leaked. Because I didn’t think you deserved that job. I’d been here way longer than you and they didn’t even consider me for the lead production position. And you waltzed in here and got to work on a big title. Fuck the board of directors. Yeah, the fact that BetaGank called you out made me happy. But don’t look at me when you’re looking for someone to blame. It wasn’t me.”
His voice softened a little. “Honestly, I didn’t expect such a fucking shitstorm to come of it, though. It’s all pretty fucked up right now.”
He propped his elbows on his desk and placed his chin on his interlocked fingers, like a pedestal. His open body language made me believe he was telling the truth. But I couldn’t read him. Could I trust Asher? If he was being truthful and he didn’t leak the insider information, then who did?
I chose my next words carefully. “Thanks for being so candid. I’m sorry you felt that way about my involvement in production. I was the creator of the game, though, remember that? I’m taking my idea to completion, it’s as simple as that. There wasn’t any plan to steal a lead production job from underneath you, just so you know. It just sorta . . . happened. But I’m a quick learner and a damn good project manager.” He stayed in his pedestal position, so I went on. “I know we got off on the wrong foot. And by that, I mean we just hate each other. I’ll go ahead and say it.”
He sniggered. “Yeah, I guess the feeling is mutual.”
“Well, the good news is we definitely have something in common. Our mutual dislike.” He and I laughed. “I need your help, though, Asher. We need this game to be a success. The company does for sure, and Kat and I have a lot at stake here. Can I please count on you?”
Could flat-out asking for his support backfire on me? With zero leverage, I couldn’t even give him a freebie sick day. This all hinged on whether he would be okay with doing the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing. I’d be willing to set aside our differences if we could work this out.
He snorted out his nose. Was that a sarcastic snort? Goddamn Asher poker face.
Then, he sighed deeply. “Look, I get it. And as much as we can’t stand each other, I don’t want this game to fail because a bunch of misogynistic assholes brought it down for the wrong reasons. I have twin sisters who are seniors in high school, and well, all that loathing these fuckers are spewing out online for the entire world to see isn’t okay. So count me in on your crusade. But with some conditions. I want to be the game spokesperson and handle the media interviews. I think you’d be bad at that.”
He was right. The second I flubbed up an interview, the trolls would skewer me for it. And if Asher could take that responsibility from me, no problem.
He added, “AND . . . you need to convince Jane and Sean not to make us dance together
at their wedding. Because I hate dancing, and it would just be weird, us twirling around with fake smiles on our faces when we can barely stand each other.”
Yes. He was right about that, too. Another good idea.
“I’ll do my best. I’ll even give you a sort-of sick day today. Just work from home, and if anyone looks for you, I’ll tell them you looked like you were dying. Sound good?”
He gave me a weak smile, and his puke-colored face lit up as much as it could. He took only a nanosecond to undock his laptop, shove it into his backpack, and rush out the door. His chair spun for a solid ten seconds after he ran out the door. I went to the conference room anyway so I wouldn’t inhale more of his germs.
I’d just made a deal with a demi-devil. You’re welcome, bro.
As I plowed through my email backlog, a new email alert from Nolan came through. Instead of a friendly hello, it was an email about the newsletter and website.
Hello Melody,
I’ve attached the rollout plans for the e-newsletter and Ultimate Apocalypse game website. Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns.
Regards,
Nolan
Ouch. Each formal and distant word, hard punches in the gut.
I opened the attachment. There were timelines with deliverables and dates, as well as a few gorgeous design comps. I’d never seen a preliminary project plan like this before, so organized and logical. What a fool I was to think he couldn’t do it.
I replied back via email. “Nolan, this is absolutely perfect. Thank you.” I looked up at the ceiling. Please, Nolan, I’ve been an idiot for second-guessing you. Forgive me.
THE NEXT DAY just before lunchtime, Kat popped her head into my office. “Oh, good, you’re here. We need to go to the lunchroom. We’re already late.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The email this morning from HR. Today is Gaming Women Appreciation Day.”
Dang it. An email I hadn’t gotten to yet.
She continued. “It seems kinda bullshitty to me, honestly. It’s a new industry annual thing now, where the women who work in gaming are given appreciation for . . . being women? That sounds weird now that I said that out loud. But they have free food downstairs, so let’s go check it out.”
The building’s ground-floor event space had been converted into a fashion runway, with loud dance music playing from a tablet hooked up to some subwoofer speakers in the corner of the room. The lights dimmed, the music lowered, and then Ian appeared on the stage with a microphone. I scanned the room for Nolan but couldn’t find him. I pulled out my phone and texted him. You’re missing your women inclusivity lunch.
Instantly, he replied.
Oh God, that’s all Ian, not me. I’m done with being inclusive.
Err, I mean, done being an inclusivity intern.
Chained to my desk, more forecasts due tomorrow for the finance team ☹ Was here till midnight and back in the office early. Enjoy your womanhood!
A wide smile spread across my face. Maybe I’d stop by his desk later to say hi.
“Ladies of Seventeen Studios, thank you so much for everything you do. We hope you enjoy the women-in-gaming performance, plus the free food and fem-friendly festivities!”
The music cranked back up as Ian hopped off the platform. Then the “show” started.
A parade of women dressed as female characters from all different game franchises sauntered down the runway. Male employees hooted and hollered as the performance went on, drowning the music out. The Lara Croft model looked exactly like the character in the game but had a slightly rounder face and a slighter build. Then, after Lara’s appearance, the show basically went from PG-13 to rated R, and possibly X. The procession of heroines went from suggestively clad, to partially clad, to so nearly nude I had to peek at them through my fingers. They posed onstage, bending over and arching their backs, making Victoria’s Secret catalogs look rated G.
A chain mail bikini-clad woman with spiked heel boots and a gun holster belt ended the fashion show with a meek announcement. “Please visit the activity stations behind the stage. Thank you, fellow female warriors, for everything you do!”
Kat rolled her eyes. “I have nothing in common with that woman. Let’s grab some free lunch and get the hell out of here.”
Taking food and fleeing back to my desk would have been the right thing to do. Instead, I walked over to the activity zones and was then accosted by Bridget, the studio’s HR internal communications assistant. She sent out companywide emails about “Food Truck Wednesdays,” benefit changes, and parking garage tow notices.
“Hiiiiiiiii!” She pronounced it hah-eeeeeeeeee. “We’re doing a company blog post about this event. Can you tell me what’s the best part about being a woman in gaming?”
She had her notebook and pen ready to take notes.
“Hmmm, what an interesting question. What did everyone else say?”
“You’re the first person I’m interviewing.” Lucky me. Bridget looked at me with her giant anime-like eyes. “And you’re the only one I could find who didn’t grab food and run.” Awww, poor Bridget. I threw her a bone by answering some of her questions.
“Well, the best thing about working at Seventeen Studios for me is that because there are so few women, the ladies’ restrooms are always empty.” She wrote this down, so I continued down the restroom theme. “Related to this, the bathroom stalls are never out of order because there isn’t a lot of toilet usage compared to the men’s restroom, which always seems to have Out of Order signs posted on the door. Oh! There’s also always toilet paper and toilet seat covers. Same reason. Less throughput.”
“Any other good things about being a female in gaming?”
There had to be something else besides empty bathroom stalls. “Dudes don’t really drink tea. At least not in our office. So there’s plenty of tea supply in the kitchen.”
“Anything else?” She didn’t write the tea thing down.
“When there are parties, no one drinks the rosé or sparkling wine except for me. So those extra bottles usually come home with me afterward. I have, like, three bottles of bubbly in my fridge at all times.”
She waited for me to say more. I shrugged.
“Okeeee, thank you so much, Melody. Byeeeeeeee!” Bah-eeeeeeeeee, Bridge!
As I passed the fem-friendly cooking station, a friendly Martha Stewart clone with an apron called out to me, “Sweetie, would you like to learn how to make a low-carb, high-protein, gluten-free casserole?”
Um no.
Not ever.
I moved past the jam-packed “Edible Flower Arrangements 101” area and ended up at the fem-powering sewing corner, where attendees could learn how to make a throw pillow. I saw Ian with a plate of food, being interviewed by Bridget. I about-faced and hoped he didn’t see me.
“Hold on a sec,” Ian said. “Melody, come over here!”
Goddamnit.
“Oh, hey there. Happy Women’s Appreciation Day, Ian.” I raised up my hand and gave him a little wave. And a little forced smile.
Ian lifted his glass to cheers me. “Times are changing, ladies! I want you to know from this point forward, I’m your double X chromosome advocate, you got that?”
I nodded. “Does this mean you’ll be restocking the bathrooms with tampon machines that don’t charge a quarter?”
Bridget giggled.
Ian lowered his drink. “Melody, I want you to know I hear you, and your female perspective is always appreciated at this company.” But then he shook his head no.
Glancing over at another group of executives nearby, he pointed at them and walked away from Bridget and me without saying goodbye, essentially telling us to our faces that he was ghosting us. I said goodbye to Bridget, too, and pushed through the slow-moving crowd.
Near the exit, I stopped at the airbrush T-shirt area. I chose my light pink plain tee (the only color available) and carefully stenciled and airbrushed PIES B4 GUYS, a parody of the novelty shirt
that Asher sometimes wore under his plaid button-down that read = RIGHTS FOR BROS AND HOS. I added cherry pie kawaii art to my shirt to complete the look.
Kat walked over with a plate full of assorted sandwiches. “This whole pro-female event had to have been planned by a guy, right? What woman in her right mind would have put something like this together?” She lowered her voice. “I hope it wasn’t Mr. Intern.”
My cheeks burned hot. “Nah, he’s doing finance stuff now.”
She rolled her eyes so far back I thought they’d get stuck in a perma-roll position. She continued her rant. “Sponsored by the morale committee that has Booze Day Tuesday, and then Thirsty Thursdays and Beer Pong Fridays back to back, and the company that has all its conference rooms named after white male science-fiction and fantasy guys.”
“All hail the unescapable bro culture at Seventeen Studios!” I took a roast beef sandwich off her plate, saluted her with it, and took a bite.
Ian came up behind me and clamped his hand firmly on my shoulder, making me flinch. “Enjoy your day, Melody. Kat. This is something that no other game company has done. We’re showing how much we appreciate women here.”
I motioned that I had food in my mouth, faking excessive chewing just to get out of speaking with him. He nodded and moved on to appreciating the next female victim.
Kat frowned. “You know, there are almost as many female gamers as guy gamers now. I really wish more women worked here.”
I sighed heavily, and we walked out the door together.
The actress in the string chain mail bikini handed me a stack of free games and said, “Thank you from Seventeen Studios for being a woman in gaming.” She shouted “Nice shirt!” as I made my way back to my desk, wearing my oversize airbrushed pie tee over my work clothes.
The stack of games she handed me featured all the women they’d showcased onstage. And the game on the very top of the pile?
Kaizen Five.
AFTER A QUICK stop in the kitchen for coffee, I walked by Nolan’s desk to find him pacing around in his tiny work space while bellowing on the phone. He had on a short-sleeved, collared black shirt. What the heck?
