Level Him Up (Her Office Book 3)

1. The Power Couple

The momentI strapped on my mask (because let’s face it, my real-life hero costume was definitely in the laundry), my tiny, chaotic room transformed into the grand headquarters of HuntraTheRed. Broadcasting live from what could only be described as Ground Zero of clutter—also known as my studio apartment—I slipped into my battle gear: the world’s most elite pajamas and a pair of mismatched socks. Glamour? Check. Comfort? Double check.

Chairman Meow, my somewhat loyal feline sidekick, had taken his usual spot on the corner of my desk, eyeing me with boredom. “Welcome, brave souls,” I declared, my voice echoing mysteriously through the mask. “Tonight, we are going to either conquer the realms or fall asleep trying. Place your bets!”

Becoming a streamer had never been in my career planner. Who would have thought that playing video games in a room that smelled suspiciously like last week’s pizza would become the highlight of my week? But there I was, glittery pink mask and voice modulator on, pretending to be some kind of pixelated warrior princess instead of someone who couldn’t remember if I’d paid my internet bill. Honestly, it was the most fun I’d had without having to leave my apartment or change out of pajamas.

“Evening, Huntra,” EverDemon023’s voice crackled through my headphones, oozing with the kind of anticipation that usually announces a midnight snack raid or a last-minute dungeon run. His avatar, a towering figure clad in armor that sparkled with menacing charm, materialized beside mine in our usual pixelated haunt. “Ready to sprinkle some dazzle on the chat tonight?”

“Without a doubt,” I responded, my voice modulated to keep my real identity securely under wraps. “I’m thinking it’s time we take down the Dragon of Eldar. It should get the chat buzzing.”

I checked the screen where he was broadcasting. Unlike me, he didn’t hide his identity. His bright smile and rugged good looks made me catch my breath every time.

A laugh, rich and full of warmth, filled my ears. “Ambitious. I’m all in. You know they love a good dragon hunt. Plus, I bet they’re dying to see if I catch a tail flame or two.”

As we ventured toward our formidable quest, the chat erupted with life. Our fans, who lovingly dubbed us The Power Couple since our in-game nuptials in the Elven Honor Conquerors tournament, were already placing bets and crafting memes of our impending doom or glory. It was more than just gameplay; it was a live performance, and we were the unwitting stars.

“LoreMaster77’s betting ten gold on you getting singed in the first round,” I teased, scrolling through the vibrant chat. “Ready to prove them wrong, or should I start chanting a healing spell now?”

His chuckle, as infectious as a viral dance move, came through clearly. “Let’s make it interesting. Loser buys the first round at The Rusty Helm Tavern.”

“Deal. But you better count your gold, Ever. My aim has never been sharper,” I quipped back. The playful banter was a hallmark of our streams, a dance of words as thrilling as the battles we fought on screen.

EverDemon023 grinned, his avatar striking a heroic pose that was more comical than intimidating. “Then may the best gamer win. And, Huntra, try not to fall off any cliffs tonight, huh?”

“Hey, that was one time, and you promised we’d never speak of it again!” I replied, laughter mingling with the sounds of digital warfare as our adventure kicked off, the chat cheering us into the fray.

Alright, here’s the scoop. I’ve got this not-so-little, totally legit crush on EverDemon023. Yeah, the guy doesn’t even bother with a mask for our streams, and I’m pretty sure that’s half the reason our female viewership spikes every week. He’s got that whole handsome, charming vibe down pat.

And okay, sometimes—just sometimes—I might let my inner stalker loose and hack into his webcam just to watch him when he’s off air. Because, yeah, I’m slightly obsessed in a this-is-probably-not-okay kind of way. But come on, could you blame me?

He’s hot. I mean, boiling. Has tattoos, dirty blond hair, bright blue eyes and dimples. His broad shoulders would look great as leg rests, okay?

“Let’s defeat some dragons, Huntra,” Ever said, his voice deep and mischievous.

It wasn’t long before we stood before the lair of the Dragon of Eldar, our chat cheering us on. “Watch me take the lead,” Ever boasted, his avatar gesturing grandly toward mine. “There’s no dragon I can’t tame.”

“Keep dreaming, Ever,” I shot back, unable to suppress a smile even though he couldn’t see it. “We both know who the real dragon slayer is here.”

Our partnership in Heroes Quest was a thing of legend. As two of the game’s top streamers, our alliance—or, as the game termed it, our marriage—had been strategic as much as it had been a spectacle for our followers. The game, a sprawling fantasy RPG, encouraged teaming up, offering special rewards and quests for those who forged alliances. Our decision to team up, to marry in-game, had been a turning point, catapulting us to even greater heights of popularity. I was just a programmer in San Francisco, but at night, I became a secret celebrity.

It wasn’t just about the battles or the loot; it was about the story we crafted together, the challenges we overcame. And tonight, as we faced down the dragon, with the chat going wild in the background, I couldn’t help but feel that, in some ways, this digital realm was where I was most myself, most alive.

As Ever and I weaved through the virtual landscape of Heroes Quest, my phone lit up with a flurry of notifications, dragging my attention away from our shared mission. The screen displayed a barrage of messages from the family group chat—my mom and sister, Whitney, deep in discussion about wedding plans.

Whitney: OMG, just found the PERFECT bridesmaid dress for you! ??

Mom: It’s stunning! Rachel, you’ll look beautiful and will hide all those tattoos. Can’t wait for the fitting!

Their boundless enthusiasm radiated through the screen, severely conflicting with my subdued role in their lives. My sister, always the optimist, along with my mom’s celebrity as the local meteorologist in Oklahoma, painted a picture-perfect narrative that had little space for a tech-obsessed gamer girl like me.

I sighed just as a ball of fire hit me, knocking my health score down. “Shit!”

“Hey, what’s going on? Why are you distracted?” EverDemon’s voice cut through my thoughts, pulling me back to the task at hand.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, toggling between the game and the relentless stream of wedding chatter. “Family stuff.”

EverDemon’s character dodged an incoming attack, saving mine from a fatal blow. “Get your head in the game, Huntra,” he teased, a hint of concern lacing his tone.

Whitney: And the bachelorette party is going to be EPIC! ?? You better be ready to party hard, sis!

Mom: Remember, Whitney, everything in moderation. We want to keep it classy. ??

Their words painted a vivid picture of the life I’d left behind in pursuit of my dreams in San Francisco—a city where I could be myself without the weight of my family’s expectations. My sister was the golden child, following in my mother’s footsteps as a news reporter with big blonde hair, bright white teeth, and a fiancé running for mayor.

Flipping my phone over, I focused intently on the game, pushing aside thoughts of bridesmaid dresses and bachelorette parties. But it was too late; the chat had noticed my momentary lapse.

Loverboy: Huntra seems off tonight. Everything okay?

GamingQueen87: Yeah, usually she’s on fire! Must be a tough day.

Their observations, meant kindly, nonetheless stung, a reminder of the balance I struggled to maintain between Rachel and HuntraTheRed, between my past in Oklahoma and my future in the tech world.

With a deep breath, I re-immersed myself in the game, EverDemon picking up my slack.

As our avatars danced around the beast, striking with precision and grace, I allowed myself a small smile. In this digital realm, I was free from the expectations and judgments of the real world. Here, I was HuntraTheRed, a celebrated gamer and a force to be reckoned with, my family’s conventional success a distant, inconsequential memory.

Our avatars circled the massive dragon, its scales shimmering under the flickering light of the virtual moon. I could hear EverDemon’s voice through the headset, directing our strategy with the calm confidence of a seasoned commander.

“Huntra, flank left and ready your shadow bolts,” EverDemon instructed, his tone both playful and focused. “I’ll draw its fire.”

“Copy that,” I responded, my fingers flying over the controls. “Let’s show this beast what real teamwork looks like.”

As I maneuvered Huntra into position, the dragon roared, a sound that shook the virtual ground beneath us. I launched a volley of shadow bolts, dark energy crackling across the screen.

“Nice shot!” EverDemon cheered. “Now, keep it distracted. I’m going in for the stun.”

I watched as his avatar, a nimble figure in enchanted armor, darted forward. He executed a series of quick jumps and rolls, avoiding the dragon’s fiery breath by mere pixels.

“Stun in three, two, one…” he counted down, then his avatar slammed a glowing orb into the ground. A burst of light enveloped the dragon, freezing it in place.

“Perfect timing!” I exclaimed, seizing the opportunity to increase our attack. “Deploying the frost trap now.”

With a few swift clicks, I activated Huntra’s trap, and ice crept up the dragon’s legs, locking it further in place. The chat erupted with cheers and emojis, our viewers as engaged in the battle as we were.

“Let’s finish this,” EverDemon said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “Dual strike on my mark.”

We synchronized our avatars’ movements, unleashing a devastating combo attack. The dragon’s health bar plummeted as our viewership numbers spiked, everyone eager to witness the downfall of one of the game’s toughest adversaries.

“And that’s how you slay a dragon,” EverDemon declared as the beast collapsed with a ground-shaking thud, our victory secured. “Great teamwork, Huntra.”

“Alright, that’s all for tonight, folks,” I announced to our viewers, the adrenaline from the battle still pulsing through me. “We’ll be back next week with more adventures.”

Logging off, I couldn’t resist checking my phone, already buzzing with a stream of messages from my family.

Mom: Rachel, have you thought about dyeing your hair back to a normal color for the wedding? Think of the pictures. We don’t want your pink hair or any of your tattoos showing.

The message was like a bucket of cold water, dousing the warm glow of our victory. Frustration simmered within me, my family’s expectations clashing with the identity I’d carved out for myself.

As I stewed in annoyance, a message from EverDemon023 popped up, cutting through my irritation.

EverDemon023: Hey, what’s going on?

I paused before replying, the warmth and comfort of our friendship softening the tension I felt with my family.

HuntraTheRed: Nothing, just my mom being her usual self.

Our conversation flowed easily, a testament to the close bond we’d formed over countless nights battling side by side in Heroes Quest and the emails we exchanged when he was on tour.

EverDemon023: Is she giving you trouble again?

HuntraTheRed: You could say that. It’s the usual stuff about my appearance.

EverDemon023: You know, you could bring me to the next family function. I’ll defend your honor.

His offer sent a jolt through me. The idea of EverDemon—no, Everett—by my side in the real world was both thrilling and terrifying. I tried to keep my family details from Ever. He was my safe space. My escape. He knew they were rude to me, but I never went into detail. I preferred the escape.

HuntraTheRed: I refuse to put my best friend in the entire world through that sort of torture. ??

A year ago, I traveled to DC for a work trip, primarily to compete for a significant contract with the military. The deal was crucial, a potential game-changer for my career, and it warranted a personal touch. So personal that my coworker ended up dating the general in charge of the contract.

Everett, as I knew him outside our gaming world, was the general’s brother, completely oblivious to the dual identity of his gaming partner, who stood mere feet away. My usual gamer’s mask, my shield against recognition, was absent in this all-too-real setting.

The connection between my virtual and real worlds suddenly tightened like a noose. There was Everett, laughing, his genuine ease a stark contrast to the nerves I wrestled with. My old insecurities surged, whispering doubts about whether the camaraderie we shared online could extend into the tangible world. Could he appreciate the real me as much as he did HuntraTheRed, or would the reality of me diminish the fantasy?

EverDemon023: You know I’d do anything for you.

HuntraTheRed: 3

There was so much I wanted to tell him, so much I wished I could share. But the fear of rejection, of not living up to the image of HuntraTheRed, kept the words trapped inside.

When EverDemon023 dropped that knight-in-shining-armor line in our chat, it hit me harder than a caffeine withdrawal on a Monday morning. Here I was, HuntraTheRed, a digital demigoddess in a world where my greatest fear was lag, not heartbreak. Admitting I was just Rachel behind the keyboard felt about as appealing as confessing a secret love for Nickelback.

But I knew the perfect way to unwind and forget my overbearing mother and the sadness I felt about not getting to meet Ever in real life.

But tonight, oh tonight, was about to get as twisty as a pretzel in a yoga class. Grinning like I’d just found the last bag of chips in the apocalypse bunker, I grabbed my trusty weed pen, the Excalibur of creativity (and the reason I’ve laughed at my shadow). With the sweet, skunky harbinger of adventure wafting through the air, I flicked on my laptop, not for a raid in Heroes Quest, but for a dive into the steamy underbelly of fan fiction.

And there, under the influence of THC and a wildly overactive imagination, HuntraTheRed and EverDemon023 ventured into stories hotter than a laptop on a duvet in summer. Each hit from my pen seemed to erase the line between pixel and passion, weaving tales that would have Shakespeare clutching his pearls. Turns out, the fingers adept at slaughtering dragons were also pretty darn good at typing out the dance of desire.

After reaching a creative peak, high both from inspiration and cannabis, I leaned back in my chair, my personal rebellion against the mundane making me giddy. My room, now shrouded in the afterglow of creativity and smoke, felt like a hidden sanctuary. As the effects of the high waned, I couldn’t help but snicker at the thought of my guild’s reaction to the steamy latest installment of my fanfic. I always used a pseudonym, a necessity given the myriad of masks and secrets I juggled daily.

But behind all those facades, I was simply Rachel—hopelessly in love with a man who didn’t even know who I truly was.