by L.H. Cosway
Neil’s eyebrows rose. “Tomorrow?”
“I’m going to watch a tournament over at the Red Bull Gaming Sphere. You should come. It’ll be a good opportunity for you to practice flirting for when you finally meet Annabelle in person.”
“Are there typically many women at gaming tournaments?”
“Okay, so there might be a slight gender imbalance,” I allowed, “but there’ll definitely be women there. I promise. And if not, you can just practice on me.”
Neil chewed his lip, his eyes running over me. “I’ll think about it.”
I bobbed my head. “Cool.” Why did I suddenly feel so awkward? Maybe it was a bit weird to suggest he use me to practice flirting. He hadn’t commented on it, though. “Are you excited about the trip to New York?” I asked, changing the subject.
He shook his head. “Not really. Travelling all the time gets old very quickly. I like my routine, and it’s constantly being broken when I have to jet off to South Africa for eight weeks of filming.”
“Oh, yeah, it sounds terrible,” I said, heavy on the sarcasm.
He eyed me now, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I didn’t mean to sound so ungrateful. I do love my job. I’m just a creature of habit. I’m pretty much a granddad in a thirty-year-old’s body, set in my ways. Plus, being around the cast, they’re all so adventurous and wild. It makes me feel, well, the opposite, mainly because I am the opposite.”
“It’s not a bad thing to be how you are,” I countered. “Not everyone wants to be around someone who’s constantly jumping off buildings and putting themselves in danger. That would get old very fast. Sometimes we underestimate the appeal of a nice, even keel.”
“Annabelle obviously likes someone who embraces danger. She thinks she’s messaging with Callum Davidson,” Neil said.
Well, then, maybe Annabelle isn’t the right one for you, my mind argued, but I was impressed when I didn’t voice the sentiment. I scratched the back of my head. “Yeah, about that. Haven’t you ever found it a little weird that she’s messaging with ‘Callum’ when Callum has a girlfriend?” I asked, unable to resist. It was something that had been bothering me for the last few days.
Neil’s expression turned perturbed. “I don’t think she knows he’s with Leanne. They try to keep their relationship out of the public eye as much as they can these days.”
At that, I laughed. “Right. If she’s a fan of the show, then she knows Leanne and Callum are together. And I’m saying that as a fan of the show myself. We’ve all watched their tumultuous relationship play out on screen.”
Neil frowned. “Okay, true, but I think because they were so at odds with one another for the first few seasons, Annabelle believes they aren’t right for each other. Seeing Callum and Leanne on TV only gives you half the picture. I know that because I see them every day, and they’re one hundred percent in love. But if all I saw was what happened in the show, I’d probably have my doubts about them being right for each other, too. Nowadays, they try to keep most of their relationship off air. They learned that lesson the hard way in the early seasons.”
Hmm, it sounded like he was trying to rationalise it to himself, but I had a feeling Annabelle wasn’t the sweet girl she wanted Neil, or should I say ‘Callum’, to believe she was. Neil might’ve been the one doing the catfishing, but I suspected that when it came down to it, Annabelle was the guilty party.
6.
Neil
I stood outside the gaming sphere waiting for Afric. The place wasn’t too far from my work, so I was able to walk over once I clocked off for the day. I checked my watch. She was running a few minutes late. A part of me was relieved because the thought of practicing flirting with random strangers sent a chill down my spine. Maybe Afric wouldn’t show.
Flirting wasn’t my strong suit. This was a fact I knew about myself. It was something I tended to avoid at all costs.
I was about to call Afric to check where she was when I spotted her approaching. Her long blonde hair was down around her shoulders, and she wore a loose-fitting black and white striped shirt with burgundy coloured leggings, Converse, and large hoop earrings. It was the most normal outfit I’d seen her in yet. She even wore a little bit of make-up, the black eyeliner highlighting her startlingly blue eyes. My chest did a weird flip-flop, and I wasn’t sure why.
Okay, maybe I did know why, but I was trying to ignore it. It was only yesterday that I was at her place, and I still didn’t know how to feel about her admitting to checking out my arse.
Women rarely checked me out, so to have Afric compliment me like that was, well, it wasn’t unpleasant. I’d spent so long seeing myself as this plain, unnoticeable bloke that it was kind of shocking to have her compliment me. Even if it was only my backside she’d been complimenting. It gave me hope that once Annabelle discovered the truth, she wouldn’t be completely horrified by the real me. Perhaps I wasn’t as plain and unnoticeable as I thought I was.
“Hello! Sorry, I’m late. There was a delay on the Tube. Typical,” she said as she reached me. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Not long. You look nice.”
She patted her windswept hair. “I do? Oh, well, there’s no particular reason for that.”
I frowned at her odd statement. “Shall we go inside?”
Afric nodded, glancing at the entrance and biting her lip. She seemed nervous, which was unusual. “Just give me a minute.”
I studied her. “Is everything okay?”
She was still staring intently at the entrance. “What? Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”
“You sure? You seem—”
“What do I seem?”
“Tense?” I hedged.
She deflated, blowing out a heavy breath. “I just haven’t been here in a while.”
“Are you taking part in the tournament or something?”
“No, but my ex, Dev, probably is, and I haven’t spoken to him since our break-up.”
Oh. She was nervous about seeing her ex-boyfriend. Now it all made sense. Something about the show of vulnerability warmed me to her. “When did you two break up?” I asked.
“About six months ago.”
“We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” I said in a gentle voice.
Afric shot me a determined look. “No, I want to go in. I have to. He’s not stealing this place from me. I just need to reclaim it.”
“Well, in order to do that, you’ll need to actually step inside.”
She narrowed her gaze. “I know that.” Still, she didn’t move. I gave her a moment to prepare herself, and as we stood there, a man in a suit strode by, bumping into Afric without stopping to apologise. I caught her by the elbow and made sure she was okay. Then, feeling strangely bothered by his rudeness, I walked after the man and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, shooting me a questioning look. “What?”
“You should watch where you’re going,” I said. “You almost knocked my friend over back there.”
He glanced at Afric, then at me. “Whatever, mate. You two were blocking the path.”
With that, he turned and left. “Dickhead,” I muttered as I returned to Afric.
She smiled up at me. “That was rather chivalrous.”
“I just can’t stand rude people,” I said.
“You live in London, Neil. This city is full of rude people.”
“Well, it bothered me how he didn’t even stop to apologise. Are you okay?” I asked, looking her over.
“I’m fine, but thank you.” She took a deep inhale and straightened her shoulders. “Right, let’s do this,” she said, but she still didn’t move.
I bent my head to look her in the eye. “Do you want me to go in first?”
She swallowed then nodded, and feeling protective of her at that moment, I led the way into the gaming sphere. Afric followed close behind me, and I took the place in as we entered. A good number of people were gathered for the tournament, and computers were set up all about being used by lots of peop
le with headsets on, completely absorbed in their gaming. I eyed the race car simulators surrounded by large screens, impressed with the setup. This place certainly meant business.
“Do you want a drink?” Afric asked. “I’m getting one.”
“A drink sounds good.” Strangely, her nervousness about bumping into her ex made my nervousness about flirting fade a little.
Afric grabbed us two Red Bulls, and several people waved to her. She said hello, but she didn’t stop to chat with them. Instead, she led us over to sit on a bench. I took a swig of the tangy-sweet drink. “I probably shouldn’t be having this. It tends to give me heart palpitations.”
“Right?” Afric agreed. “It’s good for staying alert during a gaming marathon, though.”
“Ah, I see how that could help,” I replied just as three blokes appeared in front of us. Two of them carried some sort of handheld gaming devices, their eyes intent on the screens as their thumbs pounded the buttons. The third was a dark-skinned guy with close-cropped hair and a beard who seemed to be eyeing Afric intently. He had a nose ring and wore a black hoodie with a skull design and ripped jeans. I was ninety-nine percent certain this was her ex.
“Afric. It’s been a while,” he said with a smile.
“It has,” she replied, lifting her chin. “Hello, Dev.”
“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”
“Nope. Just been busy. My stream has been gaining a lot of new viewers.”
“Really? I went to tune in the other day, but you were offline. It actually feels like you’ve been streaming less,” Dev commented, and Afric’s shoulders tensed. She didn’t reply right away, and some instinct pushed me to come to her defence. Without fully thinking it through, I slid my arm around her waist. I heard a small, sharp breath escape her, and I was acutely aware of the curve of her hip under her loose shirt before I glanced at Dev.
“That’s probably my fault. I’ve been keeping her busy,” I said. “I’m Neil, by the way.”
Dev’s attention finally came to me, one eyebrow shooting up. “Oh, hey,” he said, then glanced back at Afric. “He doesn’t seem like your usual type.”
She shot him an arch look. “Maybe I decided to change my type.”
Dev narrowed his gaze. “Maybe you did.”
A short silence fell. Afric shot a look at Dev’s friends, who were still completely absorbed in their devices. “Do those two ever shut up? I can barely get a word in.”
I chuckled quietly, and Dev scowled, not responding to her joke as he replied, “I better get going. The tournament is starting soon.” He motioned to his two mute gamer friends to follow him.
“Break a leg,” Afric called after him, making a rude hand gesture to his retreating back before grinning up at me.
“That was the best. Thank you for pretending to be my boyfriend. I can’t believe I didn’t think to suggest it earlier. Dev was so pissed off.”
“He was?”
“Oh, yeah. He always goes all quiet and frowny when he’s angry.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help you put it to your ex,” I said before realising my arm was still around her waist. I carefully removed it, but not without again noticing she was hiding some devastating curves under her baggy clothes. I filed the information away under the heading: Things I didn’t need to be thinking about.
“I know how awkward it can be seeing someone for the first time after a break-up,” I went on.
“The bloody gall of him, too,” she exclaimed quietly, turning her body towards me on the bench. “One of the reasons he broke up with me was because he said I gamed too much, and now he has the cheek to comment that I’m not streaming as often as I used to.”
“That is kind of shitty,” I agreed.
“He said he wanted a girlfriend who was into normal stuff. In other words, he wants someone who will cook and clean and dress up nice, while he sits on his arse gaming all day and being treated like a prince.”
“Sounds like you’re better off without him.”
“Oh, I definitely am. It’s crazy what a few months will do to give you clarity on a person,” Afric said as she blew out a breath. She fell silent a moment, looking around. “There are fewer women here today than there normally are. I’m sorry. I know I promised you people to practice flirting with.”
“Don’t apologise. I’ve actually been a nervous wreck thinking about it. I hate flirting.”
“Me, too. It’s such a performance. Whatever happened to just having a natural conversation with someone?”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “I think once you have a connection, the flirting just becomes a part of the conversation without being forced.”
Afric nodded and folded her arms. “Will you still stay and watch the tournament with me? It’s fine if you want to leave.”
I stared at her, a weird tug in my chest. Funnily enough, I didn’t feel like leaving. I actually wanted to stay and hang out with her. “Sure, I can stay for a while.”
Now she smiled. “Great.” She nodded to the drink in my hand. “Want another one of those?”
“Absolutely not.”
She chuckled. “Okay, then. Let me show you around instead. I’ll give you the grand tour.”
She stood from the bench, and I followed her down a row of computers.
***
I was standing behind the film crew in Central Park when my phone buzzed with a message. I pulled it out, spotting Afric’s name on the screen, and smiled automatically. What was this? It appeared I’d started to enjoy our budding friendship. I could at least admit that I had fun with her last week at the gaming sphere. Afric and I had spent over an hour playing a race car game. She beat me every time, of course, but I still enjoyed it.
I glanced down to read her message.
Afric: How’s everything going over in the Big Apple?
Neil: I’m a bit jet-lagged but getting by. I’m in Central Park atm. The cast is shooting.
Afric: OMG, that sounds fun! Send me a pic.
I hesitated. She wanted a picture? I rarely took selfies, and more often than not, I was the one behind the camera. I glanced around. Everybody was busy working, not paying me any attention. Navigating to the camera app, I put it in selfie mode and lifted the phone. I made sure to get some trees and greenery in the background, as well as the buildings beyond, and attempted a smile. The first few shots weren’t great. My smile was wooden. But after a few more tries, I loosened up and managed to take a reasonably good selfie. I went back and forth over whether to send it, then, feeling impulsive, I hit ‘send’.
Instead of a text response, my phone lit up with a call. “Hello?” I answered.
Afric was already chuckling. “My goodness, you’re too cute. I meant a picture of the cast filming, not a selfie of you, ya big eejit.”
I stiffened, slamming my palm into my forehead as I held the phone to my ear with my other hand. “Oh, right. Sorry, I thought—”
“Don’t apologise. You look lovely, Neil. Thank you for gracing my phone with your heavenly visage.”
“Okay, there’s no need to make fun. I thought young people sent each other pictures of themselves all the time. Isn’t that what people your age do? They send selfies drinking coffee, or selfies with ice-creams, or other mundane things that certainly don’t require documenting.”
“First of all, you just called me basic, which I’m prepared to overlook because I’m not. And second of all, you’re not that much older than me, Neil. I’m twenty-five. You’re thirty. We’re hardly a Boomer and a Gen Z. Pretty sure we’re both Millennials, so …”
“I didn’t mean to offend you. You’re the one who called me up, laughing your arse off at my selfie, which, might I add, I happen to think I look well in. At the very least, it was the best of a bad bunch—”
“Hold up, how many pictures did you take?” Afric asked, her voice full of amusement.
“A few,” I admitted grudgingly. “But that’s neither here nor there.”
�
�Oh, my God. I’m going to die,” she chuckled. “I would’ve loved to see you standing there taking selfies when you’re supposed to be working.”
“Well, enjoy the visual because I won’t be sending you any more photos of my time in New York.”
“Wait, no fair! I want more pictures. That way, I can live vicariously through you. In fact, I think you should send me a selfie every day to show me what you’re up to. No, I demand it. I am, after all, stuck in my bedroom in Brixton live streaming video games to teenage boys while wearing gigantic hoodies to give them as little as possible to wank over.”
“Okay, I’m not sure where to start because there’s a lot to unpack there. Besides, it’s not all teenage boys who watch you. My sister, Rosie, watches your stream all the time.”
“That’s good to know. Tell her I said hi. Also, speaking of your sister, did she like the autograph?”
I smiled, thinking of how excited Rosie was when I gave it to her. “Yes, actually, she was made up about it. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“No problem. But back to the daily selfies. I seriously think you should consider it. Think of it as a confidence-boosting exercise. You clearly have some self-esteem issues—”
“I do not have self-esteem issues,” I protested weakly before amending. “Well, okay, I may have some, but it’s not a huge deal.”
“You’re pretending to be someone else online to a girl you’re infatuated with,” Afric said, and I deflated.
“Fair point.”
“So, here’s my suggestion. You take a picture of yourself once a day in front of some cool landmark or other. You’re in New York, so it won’t be difficult. Taking selfies can be kind of awkward, especially when some passing stranger looks at you and rolls their eyes all, God, they’re taking a selfie, how embarrassing, how vain …”
“Well, now I really want to do it,” I deadpanned.
“No, hear me out. It’s a good thing. You have to not give a shit what strangers think of you. The most confident people don’t care what anyone thinks of them. I remember walking through Trafalgar Square one time, and there was this lady in a ballgown having a photoshoot, but it wasn’t a modelling shoot. It was like she’d paid someone to take pictures of her just for her own personal photo album. I remember thinking to myself, wow, that woman does not give a single shit, and I am here for it. That’s who you need to be, Neil. You need to be the lady in the ballgown in Trafalgar Square.”
