1. Amara

One

Amara

I’m gonna kill Kemi.

My little sister’s high-pitched squeal pierces through the cacophony of the convention center, making me wince. “Amara! Look at that cosplay! It’s so dope!”

I force a smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. “Yeah, it’s… great.” To be honest, I can’t tell one costume from another in this sea of colorful wigs and elaborate outfits. How did I let Kemi talk me into this again? Oh, right. The guilt trip about how I never do anything fun anymore. How I’m always working. How I need to “get out there” again after my messy breakup.

So here I am, a 35-year-old woman, feeling completely out of place at GamerCon.

“Come on,” Kemi says, grabbing my arm. “Joker is about to start his panel. We have to get good seats!”

I let her drag me through the crowd, dodging excited fans and oversized prop weapons. “Who’s Joker?”

Kemi stops dead in her tracks, staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Only the hottest streamer ever! His voice is to fucking die for, Amara!. And nobody knows what he actually looks like because he always wears a mask.”

Great. A masked man with a sexy voice. Sounds like a recipe for catfishing.

We push our way into a packed auditorium. Kemi manages to snag us seats near the front, yay. I’d rather blend into the back.

The lights dim, and the crowd goes wild as a figure emerges on stage. There’s something magnetic about his presence. He’s super tall, with broad shoulders accentuated by a fitted black t-shirt. But it’s the mask that draws me in – a stylized white face with a manic grin that somehow manages to be both disturbing and alluring.

And then he speaks.

“Hello, GamerCon!”

Oh shit.

Kemi wasn’t exaggerating about his voice. It’s deep and rich, with a hint of gravel that sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. I sit up straighter, suddenly very invested in what this Joker has to say.

As he talks about his latest gaming competitions and upcoming projects, I find myself hanging on to his every word. It’s not even what he’s saying – I barely understand maybe half of it – but how he says it. The confidence, the humor, the undercurrent of something darker.

I’m so caught up in his voice that I almost miss it when his gaze sweeps the crowd and lands directly on me. Even through the mask, I can feel the intensity of his stare. My breath catches, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away.

It’s hard to tell with the mask. But there’s a slight tilt to his head, a subtle shift in his body language that feels… directed at me.

I must be imagining things.

The rest of the panel passes in a blur. Before I know it, people are standing and cheering. Kemi is tugging on my arm again, practically vibrating with excitement.

“That was amazing! Come on, let’s try to meet him!”

“What? No, I don’t think–” But it’s too late. Kemi is already pulling me towards the stage, where a crowd is forming around Joker.

We’re almost at the front when I feel it – that same heated stare from before. I look up, and there he is, standing right in front of me. Up close, I can see his eyes through the mask. They’re dark and intense.

“Hi,” he rumbles, and that voice courses through me like an intimate caress. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these before.”

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. Kemi, bless her, jumps in.

“This is my sister, Amara. It’s her first convention.”

Joker tilts his head, studying me. “That so? How ‘bout I give you a lil’ tour? Show you what all the fuss is about?”

I should say no. I should grab Kemi and run far, far away from this man who’s making me feel things I never have.

Instead, I hear myself say, “I’d like that.”

His eyes light up behind the mask. “Let’s go.” He reaches out, his large hand engulfing mine, and suddenly I’m being pulled into his world.