Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
When I click play, I feel like it’s the beginning of something special. I stopped believing in fairytales a long time ago. But—and yeah, it’s naïve—now, I’m not so sure.
He brings the camera to his face, temples pulsing, his inner conflict clear in his tight features. “Hey, Dakota,” he says in his gruff voice. “I hope this video doesn’t dwarf what we’ve got going on in the game.”
I laugh, delighted. But also with a hint of holy shit this is too good to be true. I knew, didn’t I? Maybe. Now, I feel it. And that’s much more important.
In Empire, I respond.
DakkyDuck: I promise, Jackson, no one will know about this. Ever. I swear. I’m not some fame-hungry streamer who’s going to use you. I’ve had chances to sell my soul to get bigger. I’ve turned them all down.
TheRealCreator: That’s good to hear. I didn’t plan on any of this.
DakkyDuck: Any of what?
TheRealCreator: THIS.
His character mimics yelling, waving his arms, instead of speaking.
TheRealCreator: Tuning into your streams. Thinking about them when I’m supposed to be working. Making announcements just for you… because I want to. Because I can. Because it’s fun, having a secret just for us, something the rest of the world doesn’t know about.
Warning signals blare in my mind. Does he have other girlfriends? Is this his usual go-to move with streamers?
I want to step into the cave with him, to see where the dirty talk will lead. I don’t date much, and I’ve been working so hard, I just want to have a little fun. But at the same time, I know I need to slow down and get a second opinion.
I type, forcing my fingers into action.
DakkyDuck: I’m sorry, but I have to go. I don’t want to rush into anything.
TheRealCreator: I understand. Before you go, let me ask you something about the game. I swear, I didn’t invite you here just to obsess over your thick, fine figure and that smile that lights up the whole internet.
The compliments make my body buzz all over. I should probably know better. I’ve spent so long being so stubbornly independent, but now I feel special. Seen in a way my streams can’t accomplish. Wanted. Hungered for. It’s a new, exciting adventure that makes me want to build a whole new empire out of it.
DakkyDuck: Sure… and don’t be shy with that sort of talk.
TheRealCreator: I wouldn’t be able to stop telling you how badly I want you alone, all to myself, even if I tried. And I’m not going to try.
A pause, then his next message follows.
TheRealCreator: My question… what do you think about this zone repurposed for role players? I’ll take the existing enemies and scatter them across different levels and dungeons. The scenery and the atmosphere here would be perfect for RPers, no? Yes?
DakkyDuck: Don’t you have entire teams to handle this sort of thing?
TheRealCreator: Sure, I do. But you play this game more than any of them. And somehow, I think you care more.
My throat tightens at my next question.
DakkyDuck: What makes you say that?
TheRealCreator: On your stream, sometimes, you get choked up in certain places. The summoning stone near the bank. The water fountain. The elder tree. These were all early additions to the game, which makes me think you’ve got a nostalgic connection to it from those early days.
DakkyDuck: You noticed me getting choked up?
My emotion swells at his attention to detail.
TheRealCreator: You hide it well. Just like you hide when you’re uncomfortable. But your voice changes. Just a little, just for a moment.
DakkyDuck: You’re right. This would be a fantastic zone for role players. Sorry, I have to go now, Jackson.
TheRealCreator: Call me Jack.
I log off, lean back in my chair, my head swimming. The creator of Empire’s Fall just asked for my opinion about game development. That’s huge. Oh, and he also wants to have sex with me. Pretty clearly. That’s… just as huge. Maybe bigger.
But what if he’s lying? Using me? Pretending he cares about my opinion just so he can get into my pants?
This has gone on long enough. Almost a week. It’s time for a second opinion.
Mara snatches the phone from me to rewatch the video. I wrap my hands around my coffee cup and take a big sip, letting the caffeine pulse through me. “Hey, Dakota,” Jack Cross says gruffly. “I hope this video doesn’t dwarf what we’ve got going on in the game.”
“What… the…” Mara blinks, handing me back my phone, dumbfounded.
“I thought it’d be easier to show you before I told you,” I murmur.
“Well—uh—I mean…” She laughs, shaking her head. “Speak, woman.”
I laugh, nervous, excited, a mixture I’ve never felt before. When I look at Mara, it’s like looking at her cousin. At Noah. She has the same brown eyes, the same smile. Mara’s hair is dyed pink, which is a major difference, but even her jawline is similar.