36. Juliana

THIRTY-SIX

JULIANA

So, what, I tore our contract off the fridge? I couldn't stand the sight of it anymore. Sure, it probably gave Hayden a world of mixed signals, but it doesn't make us real boyfriend and girlfriend. Although...

It doesn't necessarily make us not.

Either way, all I know is this past week, with every day that comes and goes, the latter is starting to sound more appealing. So, yes. I threw away our contract—and may have shredded it into itty-bitty pieces beforehand—even though my exact motives are still in question.

Besides, it's pointless now, anyway. I haven't heard a peep since my presentation. I'd say my chances of being picked as Kingston Entertainment's sponsor are next to zero.

I won't lie, I'm quite distraught over it, maybe more so than the last few years of applying, just from the fact that I had a one-on-one audience and still didn't land a feature, but that's not the reason I've hardly worked on my game this week.

Let's just say, as of late, I've been a tad... distracted.

Perhaps one might say a teensy bit... busy.

With my mind... elsewhere.

I won't get into the nitty-gritty. In fact, I can't. Not without wasting my precious lunch break for the third day in a row. Which is why, this morning, after finishing up with that which can't be discussed, I promised myself I'd use the time today to work on fixing a bug.

It's a weird one, and I'm lucky a player was kind enough to message me about it, otherwise I probably would've never discovered it during my own testing. The error triggers only under very, very unlikely circumstances. Mabel has to be in the exact spot at the exact time, when deploying a kitty litter sand trap, for her to throw it in the complete opposite direction.

While that may sound bad, with this bug in particular, detection is harder than actually fixing it, which is why I should be even more ashamed that I've pushed it off this long.

So far, I've managed to stay focused and am already halfway done. However, it's proving quite difficult to tackle the other half with the way Mei eyes me from across the table.

"Got something on your mind?" I ask, even though I already know what her mischievous look is about.

"Huh? Who, me?"

I deadpan.

"Oh, nothing." She twirls a dark lock between her fingers, stifling a smile. "You've just been glowing."

Rolling my lips, I return to my work, trying to avoid thinking of anything that'd veer me off course. "You know why," I say, hoping she'll leave it at that.

Of course, she doesn't.

"I know, you know, I know."

My eyes bulge, earning a giggle from her.

"I just like hearing about it, is all."

I feel a blush creeping onto my cheeks, which ignites into a blazing heat as she continues.

"Just the little things. You know, like how you lost your V-card and joined the mile-high club at the same time—I mean, who does that? With a billionaire's son, no less? Aboard a private plane, after attending a derby as his fake girlfriend..."

Mei's voice fades into the background of my mind. I ensure to nod and hum every now and then, lest I seem too interested—which is her cue to start grilling me with questions. I've gotten pretty good at walking this fine line with her, and can gauge precisely where she is in the story just by reading her facial expressions. Maybe because I've heard it nonstop, incessantly on repeat, since I confessed everything to her earlier this week.

It took me two days before I caved, and when I told her, you'd think I won the Nobel Prize, not lost my virginity. That's how excited she was. From then on, it's been question after question, gushing and gushing, as she offers me bedroom advice while simultaneously asking about mine.

I nod some more, her enthusiasm temporarily pulling me from focus.

"...and the way he looked at you during his party." She sighs, all dramatic and dreamy, resting her chin on a fist. "I just knew right away how he felt about y—"

A sound of disgust emanates from behind me, one that's instantly recognizable before she even rounds my chair. Meghan swings into view, arms crossed, as always. "And here I was, thinking you finally gave up on that useless game."

Annoyance rakes up my back. "Sorry to disappoint," I mumble, avoiding her intense gaze.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Bitch.

From the corner of my eye, I catch Mei's hand motions behind Meghan, and I just know she's flipping her the bird, even in the midst of customers. I clamp down on a laugh, only for all that humor to dry up with Meghan's next words.

"That's what I thought." Seriously, what a grade-A bitch. "I'm gonna need you to work an extra shift next week."

I hesitate, fingers stalling on my keyboard. "What day?"

"Friday."

Dammit. "Ohh, uhh, sorry, I can't do that day."

"I wasn't asking." More hand gestures from Mei.

I squirm in my chair, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sensation worming its way through my insides. I'd rather stab my own toe than argue with my boss, but here I am. "Uhmmm, I seriously can't. I have plans."

"Do you now? And what is it that's so important?"

"I'm going to a gaming convention."

Her face falls, before her lips curl in revulsion. "What?"

"You know, where you can play games still in beta, meet developers and cosplayers, enter tournaments, watch new trailers. This convention is the big one— as many enthusiasts know it as—called DreamScape. It's actually held in west Manhattan and is put on every year by—"

"Oh, no." She holds up a hand, her mouth pressing into a tight line. "Please, don't explain." A laugh spews from her lips, but she quickly stifles it, only for another to sneak through, then another, until the whole dam breaks loose.

As always, I keep my eyes downcast to my laptop, waiting for the storm to pass. Usually, I'm quite numb to Meghan's taunts, which are a bi-weekly occurrence and almost like some managerial ritual for her at this point, but today... Today, there's an unmistakable sting.

It's obvious why. Even though I've attended DreamScape for the past six years, this is the closest I've come to tasting victory. No matter, I'll still watch the Indie Creator Showcase with genuine excitement, like always, but this year will be a little more sour.

Meghan composes herself, though a few giggles linger. "So, you'll work next Friday, then?"

Sadness trickles inside me as I avoid Mei's pitiful stare. Who am I kidding? I'll save myself some pain by not attending. "Yeah, I'll be here."

"Good, good." Meghan turns to leave, but pivots one more time, unable to help herself. She encroaches on my space, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. "I'm only trying to help you, Juliana. You know that, right? With all that work ethic, you could do something worthwhile, instead of wasting time on something so juvenile, a game clearly no one's interested in..."

I push her out of my mind, observing her lips chatter away as she savors every word. Except, the longer she rambles, the more someone else's words snake into my heart. Elias's. His doubts, weaved with my obvious feature rejection, year after year, replay in my head. Over... and over... and over again, until I'm sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, clamping down on my wobbly chin.

Ching... Ching... Ching...

Maybe I should just quit, close my laptop while I still have a shred of dignity left.

Something tugs on my sleeve...

I still have my degree. I could start applying for corporate tech jobs. At this rate, I'd make more money.

Ching! Ching! Ching!

Although, that may prove difficult with a hole in my resume.

Another tug, more aggressive this time.

I'd have to erase all evidence of my indie background. Companies don't value candidates with entrepreneurial roots.

CHINGCHINGCHINGCHING—

"JULIANA!"

I wrench from my trance at the sound of Mei's bark. "Huh?" I look around.

"Look—look!" She holds up a phone.

Meghan groans. "Would you silence that nuisance? It's giving me and the rest of the customers a migraine."

I squint, realizing it's mine. Banners pop up on the lock screen, one after another, overlapping so quickly I can hardly read them. Until it hits me—and I'm weightless. I sink back into my chair, tears welling in my eyes.

And listen.

CHA-CHING!

CHA-CHING!

CHA-CHING!

CHA-CHING...

"Hellooooo, yoo-hoo." Meghan comes up behind me, lowering her head just above my shoulder, squinting just as I did. "What're you waiting for?!" she booms in my ear. "Turn it off. What even are all those?"

"Orders," I whisper.

She goes. Fucking. Silent.

Until…

"That can't be right— give me that." She snatches my phone from Mei's grasp, clacking on the screen frantically. "See?" She huffs when it goes silent. "It's just a glitch." She taps some more. "Now there are only chat messages. No orders. Oops... Shit," she curses beneath her breath. "One had a link. Wait, what the—"

A feminine voice blares through the phone's speakers. "NO, MABEL, NO!!"

I snap to attention, my posture straightening like a steel pole. Is that...? No... It can't be—

"MY KITTY!" Laughter erupts from the device. "Ha! Gotcha. Sorry, alien boy, my tom cat's not coming aboard your spacecraft."

IT IS HER.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

I bolt from my chair, sending it toppling behind me, without a care in the world if the ruckus draws attention or not. Invading Meghan's space, my heart clammers as I witness the last person I'd expect on this entire planet playing my game.

"No way..." I breathe.

Sporting a glittery tube top, sweatpants, and a pink headset, a girl with flaming red hair lounges across the armrests of a matching-pink gamer chair, burying her head into her phone. She takes up about a fourth of the screen, but the rest of it... is my game.

Cosmic Kitty Defense.

I blink, praying to literally anyone who might listen to not wake me from this dream, as I watch her deploy sand traps and zap aliens with a laser pointer.

"Yuck, look at that hair." Meghan's face scrunches up like a raisin, only for her hands to reveal a slight tremble, shaking the phone when she notes the chat box zooming with activity on the left side. "Who is that?"

"PixiePlays."

She whips her fiery gaze onto me. "Pixie-what-now?"

I don't hold back my snicker, catching eyes with Mei, who's just eating this up. Gosh, for a girl who's only two years older than us, Meghan really is slow with this stuff. "PixiePlays. That's her gamer tag. She's a live streamer, who plays video games."

Meghan goes totally blank, like a lightbulb that's lost its charge, until there's a flicker. "You mean, this footage, it's happening right now?"

"Mhmm."

She scoffs over Pixie's contagious commentating. "Who in their right mind would watch someone else play a video game? Nobody does that."

"Uhhhh..." I tap on the screen. "Fifteen thousand people do."

"WHAT?!"

Mei busts up laughing—literally slapping her knee, tears pricking her eyes, as Meghan taps on the phone mercilessly, angling it this way and that.

Seriously, how is this girl in her twenties? I think, watching as she grows more frustrated, fiddling with the device like it's a jigsaw puzzle. During which, I catch countless order banners dropping from the top of the screen, one after another at impossible speeds, each reinforcing my confidence.

And it's then that I realize something, recalling the conversation I had with Hayden, the one about people and their insecurities. I meant what I said, every single word— for him. Yet, how can I so confidently pass him on such advice, then turn around and not act on it for my own sake? Sure, I've dealt with naysayers, from time to time. With grace, even.

But it seems I've let one slip.

I snatch my phone out of Meghan's hands, roughly.

"What the hell?" she barks, swiveling on her heel, pinning me with a stare that, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, would have me apologizing.

This is the one percent.

I breeze past her to gather my things—my lunch, my laptop—and stow them all away in my backpack.

"Where do you think you're going? Your shift doesn't end for another two hours."

Zipping up my bag, I ignore her, not even offering her a glance. I assume she's folding her arms—her obnoxious toe tapping will come next.

"Hello???" I glance down at her feet. There it is.

I release the knot at the neck of my apron, disregarding her completely. "You'll have to find someone else for that shift next Friday."

"And what the hell gives you the nerve to talk to me like that? Again, I wasn't asking. Just so we're clear, you're my employee."

"Not anymore." I slink my bag over my shoulder, letting my apron fall to the ground, and look Meghan square in the eyes.

It's time to take my dream full time.

"I quit."

She stumbles back, only a step. For a moment, she just stands, frozen like a statue, her face blistering redder than a tomato, void of oxygen. Until she breathes steadily, feigning composure. "Fine. You think I care?" She lifts her chin proudly. "If you want to lose your job over a stupid convention, be my guest. It doesn't affect me one bit. I'll just have Mei cover that shi—"

"FINALLY!" Another apron zooms across my vision, rocketing into Meghan's chest like a high-speed ballistic. She grunts when it strikes her, prompting her to stumble back even more, nearly falling on her butt.

"I quit, too!" Mei announces to the entire coffee shop, looping her arm in mine, laughing like a maniac as she ushers me toward the exit. The scene whips heads, triggers gasps, and even causes a lady to trip on her feet, spilling her latte all over the floor.

Meghan's expression sinks deep into despair, especially upon hearing Mei's parting words.

"Uh, oh, Meghan. Guess you'll have to mop that up!"

I stare at the flash drive in my hand.

Sitting at my computer, amid the city's skyline at night, my room's never felt so quiet. Hayden told me the good news an hour ago. I should be yelling from the rooftop, jumping for joy— I was, at first. I still am happy, but now I'm also confused. Torn in two.

I glance at my monitor, which displays the email I've been praying years for.

Congratulations, Juliana!

We are thrilled to inform you that your mobile game, Cosmic Kitty Defense, has been chosen to be featured in our Indie Creator Showcase at this year's DreamScape, New York City's premier gaming convention! Your game impressed us with both its exceptional creativity and engaging gameplay, and we truly believe it would stand out at the event, alongside other talented indie creators. Please, confirm your acceptance so we can move forward and gather the necessary information from you.

Best regards,

The DreamScape Team

They obviously saw PixiePlay's stream and how fast my game's been moving up the app store charts. So, again. I am happy, so beyond thankful for the publicity my game saw today, the sales, for Kingston Entertain's offer and now DreamScape's. All of it.

But now I have a choice to make.

Kingston Entertainment or DreamScape.

It should be simple, one would think. Bypass Kingston Entertainment and go on my own—I'll land the feature either way. Then maybe I'd squash that doubt in my head, the one that says I only made it this far because of Hayden.

But the truth is, I didn't. This email proves it. I landed the feature all on my own, fair and square.

So, now I'm at a crossroads, one dependent only on my pride, really. Part of me wants the glory, wants to see only my name next to my game. However, there's another factor that I can't ignore.

Having Kingston Entertainment as my sponsor shows credibility, establishes market trust. A way to really put my name out there, behind a mega-corporation that's establishing their roots to become a titan in the gaming world. That's a huge deal. Any indie dev would kill to be in my position.

So, I do what any of them would do...

Plug in the flash drive.