Leveling the Field (Gamers)

by Megan Erickson

  It had backfired. In a huge, irrevocable way.

  And now she sat slumped against the door of the bathroom with an ache in her muscles from tensing all weekend, staring at a cock and balls someone had drawn on the wall.

  She sighed and wondered how long she could stay in here before someone came after her when the door opened.

  “Lis?” said a deep voice.

  “Angel?” She turned and glared at the door as if he could see her through the metal. “What are you doing in the girls’ bathroom?”

  “Coming to drag you out. Now are you going to walk out on your own or do I have to make you walk?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I just need a minute.”

  “You’ve had a lot of fucking minutes. I hate that this bastard did this. It’s supposed to be a great day, and you’re hiding out in the bathroom. Mom and Dad are worried.”

  Shit. He’d pulled the parent guilt trip card. After Rona’s death, it was pretty much an unspoken sibling rule not to stress out their parents too much. With a growl in her throat, she unlocked the door and stomped out. Angel sat on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth as she washed her hands.

  She smoothed down her dress and checked to make sure she didn’t have toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her boots.

  “Look, I’m not trying to be a dick—”

  “I know you’re not,” she said. “I know that. You’re kicking me in the ass, which is what you should be doing. I’m moping and it’s dumb.”

  “He didn’t taint this project. I know that’s what you think, but please forget about what he said. He didn’t know everything.”

  “Which was my fault—”

  “Hey,” Angel said. “Hindsight’s twenty-twenty. But you know how much this project means to the subjects, and how much it will mean to recipients of this scholarship. So get your ass out there and hold your head up high.”

  He was right, of course, he was always right. So she did just that—straightened her spine and lifted her chin up and sauntered out of the bathroom. At the bar, her parents were standing close together, looking concerned, and Lissa hated that she’d put those looks on their faces. She smiled brightly. “Hey Mom and Dad!” She wrapped them both in a hug, her father placing his warm palm on her lower back.

  “Lis,” he said. “So proud of you.”

  Her mother held her face in her hands. “Very, very proud. The site looks great.”

  Lissa smiled. “Thanks. I think a reporter is supposed to be here tonight.”

  Her mother gestured at her outfit. “You look amazing. You’ll knock ’em dead tonight.”

  Lissa squeezed her mom’s hand. “Thanks.”

  An hour later, a TV reporter did in fact show up, camera in tow. They found Lissa in a corner of the bar and turned that spotlight on her. Most of the questions they fired her way were easy—talk about Rona, how she got the idea for the project, the lovely people she met along the way.

  “And,” the reporter said toward the end of the interview, “is there anything you want people to understand about this project?”

  Lissa didn’t bite her lip, because she didn’t want to mess up her lipstick, so she settled for chewing the inside of her cheek as she thought of a way to formulate an answer. Ethan’s face flashed through her head. “I wanted to do this for my sister and for every person who feels like she did, who struggles like she did. Every one of these people meant so much to me. I heard their stories and I felt for them, but it’s not the same as actually being them. There are some people I met during the course of this project that aren’t featured in it, and some of them were the most powerful of all.” She sucked in a breath and knew she had to cut this short before she cried. “And I want to tell everyone who views this project that if I didn’t get it right, I’m sorry. But I tried. I tried so, so hard.”

  The reporter thanked her, spoke into the camera, and then finally that blessed red light shut off.

  The camera. A pain pierced her as she remembered Ethan’s vow to go back in front of the camera—stare at that red light, a changed man from the last time he’d done it.

  The thought of him panicking, of hating it, made her want to throw up. She had to believe he’d been okay. That he’d made it through.

  The alternative would break her heart.

  For now, she turned to her family and plastered on a smile. This was her night, and she wouldn’t spend time thinking about a man who hated her guts.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ethan hadn’t planned on looking at the site. And he’d successfully avoided it for a week, until today. Because today, he sat in his office, holding an envelope—addressed to him, care of Gamers—stuffed with pictures of himself.

  Pictures Lissa had taken.

  At first he’d been pissed but then a small note had fallen out, and in her hurried scrawl, it’d said, “How I see you. How I wish you’d see yourself.”

  Even after all those horrible things he’d said to her, she still had kind words. She’d taken the time to print out these photos for him. He hadn’t wanted to look at them—that time on her computer was enough—but as he pulled out the five photos, his chest tightened. Because no, he certainly didn’t see himself like this. He was still scarred. He was still Ethan Talley, formerly E-Rad.

  But through Lissa’s lens, even while sleeping, he was…peaceful. Serene. It was narcissistic, but he hadn’t looked at himself for long in a mirror for years, so now he took the time to study his jawline, the curve of his ears, the profile of his nose. His bones and his complexion, the darkness of his hair, the scruff on his chin.

  The scars were still there, as livid as any other day, but yet…they weren’t the focal point of the photo in any way. He was the focal point. His soul.

  God, this was corny, but he couldn’t deny that Lissa was talented. And she’d used that talent on him.

  He didn’t know the exact address for her site, so he searched for Rona’s Scars and found it right away.

  He hadn’t thought she’d use his photograph without permission, not really. Although he still braced himself for several days after the site went live, that someone would recognize him from it.

  But no, she hadn’t used his pictures, and as he scrolled through the site, he was struck by how beautiful her photos were, how heartfelt the project was, down to the color scheme, the loving way she let the subjects’ own words tell their stories. The photos were similar to the ones she’d taken of him, in that the scars were always visible, but it was the soul she captured that was the focal point. How she made something invisible be visible in the picture, he had no idea, but she had.

  He read the stories, and was moved by what some of these people had gone through—fires, car accidents, physical assaults, etc. They all told their stories in a way that sanded away some of his sharp edges. By the time he’d read through the site, he was sore and a little raw where the new, smoother flesh was exposed.

  He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face, letting it linger on the scars along his neck and jaw.

  She’d said she hadn’t planned on asking him to be a part of it, that their relationship had changed her mind, but yet she’d still wanted to do something for him, and the photographs sitting on his desk were what she’d done.

  And he hadn’t been grateful. He’d been the exact opposite of grateful.

  Sure she’d sent him the pictures, but would she be open to hearing him apologize? Because as the anger had faded the past couple of weeks, the ache of missing her had set in. There’d been so many ways they’d been good together. But how could she forgive him unless he actually made some changes?

  He’d been thinking for a while, since Lissa’s words at the diner, about reaching out to his parents again. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and stared at his phone. Before he second-guessed himself, he snatched it up and dialed his parents’ number, one he hadn’t called in a very long time but still knew by heart.

  “Hello?” said his mom’s voice after a couple
of rings.

  Ethan had to take a deep breath before he was able to talk. “Hello, it’s me.”

  There was a pause, then her soft voice, nearly a whisper. “Ethan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you okay?”

  There was a sense of urgency to her tone, as if she assumed he’d only call if something was terribly wrong. There was a lot wrong, but this call was part of fixing it. “Everything’s okay. I was wondering if we could get together for dinner, you and me and Dad. Maybe Chloe and Grant, too.”

  There was a small sound, suspiciously like a sniff. “We’d like that. It’s been…so long.”

  Ethan ducked his head, the shame washing over him. “Yes.”

  “Let me talk to your father, and we’ll let you know when we can have you all over. How does that sound?”

  It had only taken a call. It’d been all these years, and he hadn’t picked up the phone. All it had taken was a simple phone call. He had to hang up before he broke down. “Yes, that’d be fine.”

  “Okay then, you take care, and we’ll be in touch.”

  “Right, talk soon.” He hung up and had to take several deep breaths to get himself under control.

  There were still many more words to be said, things to be aired out, but he’d made the first call, he’d initiated, and that was the first big hump.

  His next task was to get back in front of that damn camera. He’d avoided it for two weeks now, but it was time to tell Grant he was ready to try again. And hopefully this time he didn’t rush to the bathroom to vomit.

  He stood, straightened his suit jacket, and walked to Grant’s office, where the man was huddled over his cell phone. “What are you working on?” Ethan asked.

  “Sexting your sister,” Grant said without looking up.

  Ethan wrinkled his nose. “Are you kidding me?”

  Grant grinned and tossed his phone onto the desk. “I am, actually. Calm down.”

  Ethan rolled his eyes. “So, you ready to get the camera rolling again?”

  Grant hesitated, studying Ethan’s face. “Sure,” he said slowly. “You want me there, or Owen?”

  “Owen can handle it. If you want to observe, I won’t object.”

  Grant stood, still keeping a careful watch on Ethan, like he thought any minute now, Ethan would spew. “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  On the way to the conference room, Grant motioned to Owen, who then stood and followed them. Owen walked toward them with raised eyebrows. He was the lead copy editor and also the boyfriend of Marley’s wild-child brother, Chad. Ethan didn’t understand how that worked, because the two were night and day in his opinion. But Grant said Owen had never been this focused and confident, so at least their relationship was working for him.

  In the conference room, the filming area was still set up, and Ethan sauntered toward the chair, with confidence he did feel. He sank down as Owen stood behind the camera. He glanced at Grant, then at Ethan. “You ready?”

  Ethan nodded. “I know what I’m going to say. You just make sure the camera is on.”

  Owen smiled slowly. “All right then. You’re on in three…two…one.”

  Ethan began to talk.

  …

  There was a knock at her bedroom door. Lissa looked up from painting her nails. “What?”

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Manicure.”

  There was a pause. “You nekkid?”

  She glared at the closed door. “Of course not. Who paints their nails naked?”

  Her door opened and Angel walked in, holding his laptop. “I don’t know, I just didn’t want to see you naked.”

  Lissa shook her head and returned her focus to her nails. She was perched on the end of the bed, heels on the mattress, peering over her knees as she brushed the blue polish onto her nails.

  “Bright,” Angel muttered.

  “I like it.” She glanced up to see him open up his laptop. “Uh, you needed to do whatever you’re doing in my room?”

  “Yeah,” he said, eyes on the screen. “Because I think you’re going to want to see this.”

  She applied polish to her last nail and then glanced up. “Fine, but I’m not getting up. I don’t want to mess up my nails.”

  He rolled his eyes and sank down onto the bed beside her, jostling it so she fell against him. “Hey,” she said as she righted herself. “This better not be something stupid like that last video you sent me.”

  “That bird knew The Addams Family theme song. That was cool as shit!”

  “Angel—”

  “Okay, okay, fine, but this is nothing like that.” He pulled up YouTube with a definitive tap of a key. “Here.”

  He held up the screen, and the first thing she saw was a thumbnail of Ethan’s face. “Oh no no no.” She pushed it away, but Angel held firm. “No, I’m glad he got back in front of the camera, but I don’t need to see this.”

  Angel pushed it back toward her. “Listen, goddamnit.” He tapped the track-pad and Ethan’s voice filled the room. She thought for a second of putting her hands over her ears, but that was pretty immature, so instead she stared at the wall in front of her, not at the laptop, and listened to his deep rumble.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in front of the camera. Not since I had my own channel as E-Rad. For those of you who don’t recognize the name, I played video games and talked about it on camera. I did well and had over a million subscribers.”

  His voice was steady and calm, and she smiled a little. This had to have been hard for him. She slowly turned her head to see his image. He looked as good as he always did, dark hair slicked back, icy eyes focused.

  She didn’t turn away as he continued to talk. “I know I look a little different. I was in a car accident and made it out alive with some injuries, but my sister wasn’t so lucky.”

  He took a long pause then, and she took it with him, holding her breath until he spoke again.

  “So that’s been a main reason for my absence. I had some grieving to do, and being on camera was the last thing on my mind. But I couldn’t stay away forever from an industry I loved so much.”

  He went on to talk about his role at Gamers, and about how he planned to be a visible personality on camera.

  At the end, he tilted up his chin, paused, then said firmly, “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to show my face again. It took a while for me to see anything other than the way I’d changed, and the negative ways I had done so. It took a lot of people and a talented friend to show me I was looking at it all wrong. Speaking of, if you’re interested in donating to a good cause, which is personal to me and my family, please visit Rona’s Scars dot org.”

  She inhaled sharply and her ears rang. Ethan’s lips were still moving, but everything was a little fuzzy. This video had already been viewed over five hundred thousand times. And he’d just supported her project.

  The video ended, and she glanced up at her brother, who was staring at her, eyebrows raised as he set his laptop to the side. “See? That’s much better than a bird video.”

  She smacked his chest. “Angel!”

  “What?”

  “Angel!”

  “What?!”

  “I can’t believe he did that.”

  “Well, he did do that.”

  She stared at the laptop.

  “Lissa, that video was just released a day ago. It’s all the talk in the gamer circles. E-Rad’s back. And he’s some big wig at a magazine now. All the gamer nerds are excited.”

  She held her hand over her mouth and said through her fingers, “I haven’t even checked the donations recently.”

  “I’d suspect you have at least a little more cash in the coffers now.”

  She ran to her laptop to check for an updated donation list. And sure enough, since yesterday, they’d received almost one hundred thousand dollars. “Holy shit,” she whispered.

  “Good?” Angel asked.

  “Good?” she squeaked. �
�It’s…it’s…holy hell, gamer geeks are amazing.”

  Angel laughed. “He’s a former leader, man. He’s spoken, and he wanted everyone to support your project.”

  She turned to him, clutching her chest. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

  Her brother rushed over, took her hand, and guided her gently back to bed. “Okay, that was a lot of excitement. Why don’t we take it easy?”

  She lay on her pillow but then popped back up, nearly colliding with Angel. “I have to do something. I have to reach out.” She’d already sent the pictures, and clearly he’d gotten them. She couldn’t think of any other reason he’d been willing to lend his name to her project.

  They might never be as close as they were—she suspected they never would—but they’d both made such a large impact in each others’ lives. She couldn’t let this silence go on any longer.

  Even if she did miss him. The way he smiled at her, the trust he’d placed in her with his emotions. With his heart.

  They’d made each other smile. And laugh. It didn’t seem right not to reach out to him again.

  “Lissa.” Her brother drew out her name, like he could hear the gears turning in her head and didn’t like it. “What are you concocting? He should be the one reaching out to you and groveling.”

  She laughed at that. “True, although I think Ethan might not be wise on ways to grovel. That little speech in his video cut his groveling time in half, gotta say.”

  “Damn,” Angel said. “I gotta get myself famous, so I can shave off future grovel time.”

  “Hey.” She held up a hand. “He still needs to grovel. He needs to be reminded of how good we were together.” She snapped her fingers and curled her lips into what her brother called her Grinch grin. “And I think I know just the perfect thing.”

  Angel made a face. “Oh no, this sounds bad for him.”

  She stood and grabbed her purse. “Wanna come with? I need to go to the craft store.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It’d been a week since Ethan’s first video had gone live. The response had been overwhelming. He’d expected no one to remember him, but adult gamer guys were coming out of the woodwork to reconnect with the guy they used to watch.