37. Juliana

THIRTY-SEVEN

JULIANA

I'm in paradise.

Surrounded by gaming panels, Q&A sessions, booths offering VR experiences, meet-and-greet opportunities, tournaments, and so much more than my nerdy brain can comprehend, the sheer size of DreamScape amazes me every year, without fail. An ambient shade of blue glows throughout the convention center, its air crackling with enthusiasm and anticipation.

There's just something so exhilarating about being amongst like-minded individuals, who all share my love and passion for gaming. I'd stay forever if I could, but I'll settle for exploring wonderland until its doors close at 9 p.m. A solid ten hours, then rinse and repeat for two more days.

Fortunately, the Indie Creator Showcase is on day one. Otherwise, I'd be forced to battle my nerves for the entire convention. I'm excited, obviously, but I think my anxiety is pulling ahead by a slim margin.

"Sooo..." I nudge Jeremy's arm. "How are you liking the convention so far?"

His head whips this way and that, just as it has for the last two hours. I bite down on a laugh, eyeing his outfit. Sporting athletic shorts and a cut-off tank, Jeremy looks like he's ready to hit the gym—nothing new there—or perhaps gobble up one of the scrawny attendees who pass him by and offer curious glances.

On the outside, you'd never guess Jeremy has an electrical engineering degree, which makes it all that much more surprising he's never played video games, given that his classmates undoubtedly did. I chalk it up to his social circle growing up.

"Well, I gotta say, it's a lot to take in, but I'm enjoying myself."

"What's been your favorite part?"

Taking the lead, I weave us through a throng of people, spotting anime graphic tees, hats adorned with recognizable gaming logos, and various other nerdy accessories. There's a wide array of attendees. Some rock casual attire like hoodies or sweatpants, others take the convention very seriously, wearing things you'd never see on the streets, even in a place like New York City.

Jeremy points out such an individual, a girl in a skin-tight pink-and-blue jumpsuit. She struts by with a headset snug around her ears, flaunting the girly blaster in her hand, shooting Jeremy a wink. His steps stutter, before he whirls around in a one-eighty.

Oh boy .

"The outfits," he sighs, letting her go. "Definitely the outfits... who was that? She has to be famous."

I snicker. "Maybe. She's obviously a cosplayer."

Jeremy quirks a brow.

"It's where people dress up as characters from video games. Sometimes anime or movies, too."

"Who was she supposed to be, then?"

"D.Va from Overwatch," I answer instantly. "She's a very popular cosplay choice. Along with..." I scan around the room, knowing I'm bound to see others. "Oh," I gasp, pointing. "There's a really good Peach—you know, from Mario Kart?"

"Uhhh..."

Oh my god, who doesn't know Mario Kart?

I try again, gesturing to a man working a concession booth, handing out hotdogs in a solid-yellow pants and hoodie combo, complete with cute ears jutting out from his head. "Pikachu? From Pokémon first gen?"

He squints. "Ohhh... Yeah, yeah," he agrees, like he has absolutely no idea what I'm talking about.

Holy shit, I don't understand. Did my brother not have a childhood?

After several more attempts with no luck, Jeremy shrieks in my ear, slapping my shoulder with one hand while pointing with the other. "Oh, oh! I know that one! That's uh... uhhh... come on, come on..." He snaps his fingers, cursing beneath his breath. "Zelda! That's Zelda!"

Relief pours over me as I trace the line of his gesture. Thank God, my brother knows at least one video game. Maybe he's not completely hopeless after a—

I reach the end, at what I find has all that hope deflating from me. A boy, around ten years old or so, waits in line beside his parent for a game demo, carrying a foam sword and shield, draped in a green tunic. Not a whimsical dress like I expected.

"Jeremy..." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "That's not Zelda."

"Huh?" He double takes. "No, that's definitely Zelda."

I shake my head. "Zelda is the princess. That's Link, the boy who saves her."

He blinks. "What?"

"Oh my—never mind!" I storm through the crowd, unsure of where I'm taking us with grumbles hot on my breath, leaving Jeremy's laughter in my wake.

And that's how it goes for a few hours. Strolling around with Jeremy, showing him all the best attractions and experiences DreamScape has to offer, all while answering every one of his noobie questions. We both have a blast, waiting for the clock to tick down to the indie showcase, until it's too close to delay what I've been dreading any longer.

Seated across from Jeremy at the food court, I set my chicken wrap down on our table, sighing quietly. Here goes nothing.

"So, uh..." Nerves prick along my skin—as if today wasn't scary enough. "There was something else I wanted to tell you about my feature."

"Hmm? What's that?" Jeremy asks through his mouthful of food, grease from his double-patty cheeseburger slipping down his wrist.

My heart thunders, enough to wobble my speech. "My feature is sponsored by a corporation."

His eyes bulge. "Really?! Holy crap, Juliana, why didn't you tell me sooner? That's amazing! Which company?"

I clear my throat, forcing my eyes to meet his. "Kingston Entertainment."

The air hangs between us...

He just sits there, smiling wide, while that grease races toward his elbow, only for his expression to falter, like a crack splintering across a mirror. "You mean... like... Kingston Entertainment?"

He thinks he heard me wrong? Oh, no. This could get worse than I thought. "Uh, huh." I nod, wincing when his burger goes down with a hefty thud, and I can almost make out the gears churning in his brain by his forehead wrinkles alone.

"Like... Hayden's dad's company?"

I nod again, my heart somersaulting into my throat.

"I mean..." He grabs his napkin, a little too rough for my liking. "Congratulations, Sis, but... I'm just curious"—he scratches the back of his head, caution swirling behind his stare—"how did you go about landing that? Did they have tryouts or something?"

Tryouts. Oh, Lord help me. I'd laugh, if any part of this situation was the least bit funny.

"They did, kinda... And I did present my game, but umm..." I swallow, breaking our gaze. "Hayden and I, we've been..." Come on, Juliana, out with it. Just do it. "Hanging out."

Jeremy straightens. His lips part. And those eyes, they're stuck in some sort of trance, hazing over enough that I question if he even sees me.

Okay... he's not screaming... Maybe this won't turn disastrous, after all? Except... Okay, he's still not blinking. "Jer?" I wave a hand. "Jer—"

"What. Do you mean. Hanging. Out?" he clips, and—oh no, is he shaking? I narrow in on his hands, watching them tremble and clench into fists.

"U-uhmm... j-just, uhhh..." Fuck. What can I even say? The truth must be written all over my face, every dirty little detail.

Redness creeps up his neck, roaming over veins that flare with anger. "Have you two..." He looks away, smacking his lips, before whipping his gaze back onto me. "Has he...?"

Touched you? my mind finishes his question, prompting an onslaught of unwelcome images. I push them away and speak as calmly as humanly possible, holding out my hands toward him. "Okay, Jer—"

He bolts from his chair, sending it crashing behind him. "That motherFUCKER."

Even though none of his anger is directed at me, I stand on shaky knees. "Jeremy—"

He laughs a brutal sound, running a hand across his jaw. "So, that's why he's been avoiding me?" he asks, but doesn't, lost in his own thoughts. "He's too busy preying on my little sister?" Another chuckle escapes him, and it's straight from a serial killer's mouth.

"Won't you just listen—"

"Where is he?" he asks, void of emotion.

Adrenaline spikes through me.

"Juliana. Where. Is. He?"

"I-I don't—"

His fingers tremble violently as he swipes them through his hair, flicking his eyes through the crowd, searching for his target. He bounds in a random direction. "When I get my fucking hands on him—"

"Jeremy, please." I catch him by the shoulder, unable to stop the wobble in my voice. Only then, does he look down at me, his gaze softening. "Without Hayden, I wouldn't have landed a feature," I lie, sprinkling in a bit of truth. "He's the only one who vouched for my game. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have gotten considered for their sponsorship."

Anticipation winds tightly inside my chest as I watch Jeremy gnaw on his lip.

"I mean it." I shake him.

"I know you do. But it isn't you I don't trust around Hayden—I don't trust him with you."

I can't help the smile that creeps onto my lips, or the wall of emotions catching in my throat. I squeeze his shoulder, easing a teensy bit of that tension. Oh, Jeremy. My big brother. No longer my defender on the playground, but my loyal Doberman, who's ready to send a billionaire's son to the ER.

"Please, Jer. Today's already stressful enough."

The rest of his rage slinks off his back like running water. "I know it is... I'll let him off the hook— for now."