Chapter Seventeen
AFTER THE WORK she’s put in this summer, Kavi deserves to be the youngest winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. Hold on, let me look something up. Never mind, second youngest. But my point still stands.
After the Fourth of July, the party that rolled up to our next academy match was an entirely different entity.
Sure, the clothes and makeup were the same, but our party actions suddenly worked in ways I didn’t even know were possible under this ruleset.
In fact, we may have graduated from the definition of party.
In just a few short weeks, we’ve become what I thought I wanted to avoid but now realize I desperately needed: a team.
Everything is a performance when there’s an HD camera in your face, a ring light beyond your monitor, and a couple hundred strangers watching us play a GLR match live, but now it feels like it’s all clicked into place.
We took a sledgehammer to the wall I built up between us, and it’s so much easier to play my part now that I’m not afraid of seeing Ivan. Fully.
“Nice shot, babe,” I praise Ivan as he manages to take down someone attempting to snipe us from a nearby tree.
I even commit the cardinal sin of GLR and look away from my screen long enough to shoot Ivan a smile IRL, my heart swelling when I realize he’s looked away from his screen too, as if he was waiting—no, hoping—that I’d look at him.
Between us, Cass doesn’t bother hiding his gag.
I consider taunting him on camera, but decide against it when a distant explosion forces me to focus on the game again. Real feelings aside, this is still a performance. One that Cass isn’t a part of—at least not today.
With the sniper finished off, VANE covers my back while I pick off the remaining chests in the forest clearing we landed in. We split up the goods—a couple of grenades for me, and a chainsaw for him—before a chime announces the shrinking of the safety zone.
“Meet at Belvedere?” Ivan asks, immediately matching my pace when I start sprinting to the east side of the map—straight for the tower.
“You read my mind,” I reply with a smirk, memories of our own adventure at a very familiar castle making my cheeks feel hot despite the legion of cooling fans keeping our computers safe onstage.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot an influx of heart emojis coming into the chat—the usual flood that comes in anytime Ivan and I do something remotely couple-like.
Part of me should probably feel weird about the fact that people are cheering on what are now genuine interactions between me and the guy I …
well, I’m not really sure what we are now, but the point is, there’s more to our performance now that there’s a layer of reality involved.
“Thanks for the subscribe, OpieDopie11,” Ivan calls out as we make our way across the map.
“Make sure you check out the new emotes and keep the hype train running!” As much fun as I’m having, Ivan’s better at keeping the crowd engaged.
This boy could sell spaghetti Popsicles in a bridal shop, and he makes everyone in chat feel special just for showing up.
If I’m being honest, I’m kind of, maybe, starting to like playing GLR for a digital crowd.
It’s difficult to keep my eyes on the game and the chat at the same time—especially when they’re not just spamming emotes—but I watched enough anime with subtitles in high school that the quick-reading skill is coming back to me a little more each stream (shout-out to One Piece, straw hat for life).
At this point it barely matters if people are watching the match on Ivan’s WiTch or on mine; we’re both getting the same boost from the Wizz-Algorithm.
A laser beam goes flying past us, narrowly missing VANE’s head by inches.
“Shields up,” I announce, my jaw set as I scan the horizon for any sign of our attacker.
Ivan and I each employ our respective shields, exchanging a thumbs-up emote before wordlessly splitting up into separate, but still close by, areas of the map.
While it might not be as exciting for the fans watching, sticking together basically makes us walking targets.
I keep a careful eye on where VANE winds up going, taking note of the rock he’s crouched behind while I dash for a cave to my left.
I have time to flick my gaze toward chat while I haul ZORA up on top of a dripping green stalagmite and see that the hype train Ivan mentioned is losing steam.
On a whim I decide to maneuver myself in the direction of Ivan’s hiding spot and mash the blowing a kiss emote in-game.
And … the crowd goes wild! Hype train picks up again. Suckers, all.
Our attacker doesn’t take any more shots at us once we’ve settled into our hiding spots.
I pull out the binoculars I snagged from the last loot chest and take a closer look at the horizon from the safety of my cave refuge.
Suddenly, I see a flash of something from behind a cluster of trees—the edge of a laser gun peeking out from behind a tree trunk.
My breath hitches as I try to gauge the distance, whether they’re in close enough range to hear my mic.
“Third tree from the left,” I whisper cautiously, shifting my camera to get a better view of VANE. He shoots back a thumbs-up emote, and I know we’re prepared to attack.
Slowly, carefully, we get into position. Leaving our hiding spots and inching toward the trees without putting ourselves in our hidden attacker’s line of vision.
“Charge!” I yell into my headset as soon as we’re within range, and the chat spams bow and arrow emojis.
Calling out our attacks is kind of my thing now.
Ivan would usually respond with something cute like, “I’m with you to the end of the line,” or “Where you lead, I will follow,” but this time we focus on our plan of attack.
Ivan distracts the attacker, zigzagging his way across the clearing leading up to the trees while I perch up on a nearby rock, ready my bow, and take aim.
The arrow goes flying as soon as a flash of an arm is in sight, and I’ve got another loaded and ready to go before the first one has even made contact. Never let them catch you off guard.
But the second arrow isn’t needed. My first one misses, but VANE reaches the tree line in time to swipe his chainsaw through the air and cut down both the tree and our mystery attacker. The body bursts into a flurry of pixels as they fade out of the game.
Player CASS has been eliminated by Player VANE.
Shit.
I look up from my screen to see Cass whipping off his headset and tossing it onto his keyboard with a clatter that makes me wince.
“Cass, I—”
“Zora, look out!” Ivan calls out, snapping my attention back to the game.
An arrow comes barreling toward me, and I manage to barrel-roll out of the way in the nick of time.
VANE takes a shot at whoever came after me and misses, but successfully distracts the attention away from me.
Long enough that I’m able to make a dash for a nearby hill to get some leverage.
From this vantage point, I’m able to pull back my own bow, take aim, and fire.
Player ZION has been eliminated by Player ZORA.
“My knight in shining armor,” Ivan praises once he’s caught back up to me.
“C’mon, damsel,” I call out to him before taking off to the new safety zone. “We’ve got a match to win.”
Ultimately, the match isn’t ours to win.
Ivan gets taken down by a rogue rocket launcher midway through our sprint to the new safety zone, and I wind up placing third after a fierce melee battle with a girl I vaguely recognize seeing on my floor before.
Still, it’s an improvement from our match earlier this week—both in terms of placement and viewer reaction.
“Thank you guys so much; this was fun,” I say to chat as a flurry of heart emojis pile in at the end of the match.
“Seriously, you’re the best,” Ivan adds. “After Zora. Zora’s the best, then you guys.”
“I thought you said you were lactose intolerant?” I say to Ivan, who looks over at me with confusion. “But today you’re extra cheesy,” I finish, to a barrage of laughing emojis and all-caps messages in the chat.
Ivan rolls his eyes and brushes his hair out of his face in a way that we both know drives his love-stricken fans wild—his own chat says as much.
We, along with the rest of the academy, sign off from our respective streams with a final goodbye to our viewers.
A weight settles uncomfortably on my shoulders as soon as the red light above my camera blinks off, reality setting in now that I’m no longer on my virtual stage.
“I thought that went pretty well,” Ivan says, appearing beside me in record speed.
“Zora, can we talk?” For someone so tall, Cass is surprisingly good at sneaking up on me. He didn’t used to be, or maybe I never used to let myself get as distracted as I am these days.
“Yeah.” I make sure my headphones are unplugged and roll my chair around to face him. “What’s up?”
“You had that shot on me and you didn’t take it. You gave it to him.” He gestures toward Ivan with a look of pure disgust. “The Zora I know would never do that.”
“Cass.” I lower my voice. Is he being serious right now? “You know it’s just for the stream.”
“Yeah. That’s worse,” he says. “I can’t do this.”
By now, Kavi and Trieu are out of the game and are tuned into our conversation. It’s rare enough to see Cass on this side of the stage—but to have him look at me like I’m a coiled-up cobra is extra rare.
“What do you mean you can’t do this?” Kavi asks. “We still have a week to go before the final rankings come out.”