2. Co-Op Mode Squad Goals
The incessant blaringof my Star Trek Voyagers theme song alarm finally pulled me from the depths of sleep, but it was the rapid-fire buzzing of my phone with incoming texts that snapped me into a state of high alert. Squinting against the harsh light of the screen, I saw a bunch of messages from Sadie and Emily, my best friends and also, unfortunately for my current predicament, my colleagues at TherTech.
Sadie: Girl, what happened?
Emily: Please tell me your email was hacked ??
My heart sank as I scrolled through their messages, each one adding a layer of dread. What had I done? It took me a moment, a moment too long, to piece it all together—the late-night fan fiction writing session, the feeling of triumph as I finished another chapter of my not-so-secret guilty pleasure, and the catastrophic mistake of hitting send on an email that was meant to remain very, very private.
Oh, my God.
I got high.
Really high.
I emailed my sexy fan fiction to the entire office.
Lying there, the reality of the situation set in. I had emailed my latest fan fiction creation, a particularly steamy episode featuring my favorite video game characters (and an embarrassingly transparent stand-in for myself), to the entire office.
The entire fucking office.
To Sadie and Emily, to the intern who still couldn’t make a decent cup of coffee, to my boss who was an absolute, overbearing, intrusive train wreck, and yes, even to our new investor who probably was looking for a reason to withdraw his millions right this moment.
With a groan, I buried my face in my pillow, wishing I could disappear into its synthetic fluff. But, no such luck. The pillow did not open up a portal to a world where email undo buttons worked on a twelve-hour delay.
Pulling myself together, I typed out a quick response to Sadie and Emily.
Rachel: Emergency meeting at our usual spot. I’ll explain everything. Bring coffee. And maybe a disguise for me.
I knew I was about to walk into the most awkward day of my professional life, but somehow, the thought of facing it with Sadie and Emily made it seem almost bearable.
Almost.
I was already nursing a large coffee when Sadie and Emily arrived at our newly claimed territory, the coffee shop that had quickly become our morning debriefing zone. The bell above the door jingled its greeting as they entered, the sound a prelude to the chaos and laughter they brought with them.
Sadie, looking remarkably put-together for someone operating on what I imagined was an endless loop of half-slept nights, slid into the booth opposite me. “You wouldn’t believe the morning I’ve had,” she sighed, setting down a carrier that housed a peacefully sleeping Lila, blissfully unaware of her mother’s predicament. “I actually got to shower today. But only because Jack decided to work from home and deal with Baby Lila’s morning meltdown.”
Emily, always glowing, had her eyes sparkling with the excitement of gossip, which usually meant I was in for some playful teasing. “Well, I got up at dawn for a video call with my husband. You know, the general,” she said, emphasizing his title with a mock salute, “who’s now guest teaching young cadets in Texas how to not crash billion-dollar aircrafts. He’ll be back this weekend, by the way. Just in time for Lila’s half birthday party.”
Sadie giggled. “My kid truly has all of you wrapped around her finger.”
“Is it too much for me to get her a pony for her half birthday? I have cosplay plans for us.” I smirked.
“Absolutely not,” Sadie replies.
As we settled in, the focus inevitably turned to my latest disaster. Sadie, ever the direct one, didn’t bother with preamble. “So, Rachel, enlighten us. How does one accidentally email their… erotic fan fiction to the entire office?”
Before I could plan a response that sounded less humiliating out loud, Emily whipped out her phone, her grin devilish. “I think we need a dramatic reading to fully appreciate the gravity of the situation,” she declared, finding the email in question.
She cleared her throat. “‘His abs were like washboards, and I was just a girl who’d brought a lot of dirty laundry.’” She paused, looking up at us with a twinkle in her eye. Sadie and I couldn’t contain our laughter, the absurdity of my writing now laid bare in the light of day.
“And don’t forget this gem,” Emily continued, barely able to keep a straight face. “‘Our lips met, and it was like the first drop of rain after a long drought. Except this drought was in my heart, and his kiss was the flood I’d been waiting for.’”
Sadie clapped a hand over her mouth, her laughter muffled but her amusement clear as day. “Rachel, I didn’t realize we were working with the reincarnation of Jane Austen, if Jane Austen had a thing for abs and metaphorical natural disasters.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “It sounded better in my head, okay? Or, well, maybe it didn’t. I don’t know. It was late, and I was really, really high.’”
Their teasing was relentless, but it was the kind that came from a place of love—or at least I hoped it was. Sadie’s expression softened. “Look, we’ve all been there. Maybe not email your smut to the office there, but we’ve all had our moments.”
Emily nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Plus, now you’ve given us enough material to tease you about for, oh, the rest of your natural life. You’re welcome.”
The warmth of their teasing, the comfort in their presence—it made the mortification simmer down to a manageable level. Maybe Sadie was right; everyone had their moments. Mine just involved a poorly timed email and an overactive imagination.
Emily’s laughter rippled through the air as I buried my face in my hands. “You might want to consider a new identity at this point. Maybe move to a remote island?”
“Or join the witness protection program?” Sadie chimed in, her tone a mixture of sarcasm and sympathy.
I lifted my head, glancing between them. “Do you think everyone read it?”
Their laughter subsided as they exchanged a look, then burst into giggles again. “Girl, it’s the hottest gossip of the week,” Sadie said between laughs.
“This is bad,” I muttered, the weight of the situation settling in. “You know I’m already struggling for funding for my VR program. What if I get fired?”
“Rachel, you’re making more than enough money with your streaming,” Sadie reassured me, her tone turning serious. “You have brands wanting to sponsor HuntraTheRed. You’ll be fine.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, but I enjoy having health insurance. And I really want to make my video game.”
“Health insurance is overrated when you’re an internet sensation,” Emily joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Besides, HuntraTheRed doesn’t need health insurance; she has magical healing powers,” Sadie added with a wink.
I couldn’t help but smile at their attempts to cheer me up. “Thanks, guys. I guess I’ll just have to own it and move forward.”
“Exactly,” Emily said, nodding emphatically. “Now, let’s get more coffee and plot your rise from the ashes of this email debacle.”
After the laughter settled, Emily added a zinger with a straight face, “I’ll admit though, I felt weird reading fan fiction about my boyfriend’s brother. Love how he’s a cyborg elf, by the way. I’m curious if his attachments vibrate?”
The question hung in the air like an unexpected guest, and I choked on my coffee. Sadie snorted, nearly spilling her own drink, while I felt a hot flush creep up my neck.
“Emily, please!” I said.
She shrugged, shenanigans sparkling in her eyes. “What? It’s a legitimate question for… science.”
“Your science is weirdly specific,” I retorted, trying not to picture the fictional scenarios Emily was hinting at.
“Well, he’s not just any cyborg elf,” Sadie added, her tone teasing. “He’s a cyborg elf with potentially vibrating attachments, thanks to Rachel’s very creative writing.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands again. “Can we not make my mortifying mistake into a discussion about vibrating cyborg parts?”
“Why not? It’s fascinating,” Emily laughed, clearly enjoying the discomfort she was stirring.
“Besides, it adds a whole extra layer to the game mechanics,” Sadie chimed in, winking.
“Okay, okay,” I conceded, waving a hand dismissively. “Can we at least agree to keep the vibrating part out of the office gossip?”
“No promises,” Emily said, grinning. “But seriously, Rachel, if you ever decide to quit tech and go full time into writing, I think you’ve got a bizarrely promising career in sci-fi erotica.”
“Thanks, I think?” I said, not sure whether to be amused or horrified by the prospect.
As their probing gazes settled on me, I braced for the inevitable. “So, about that fan fiction…” Sadie began, her voice trailing off suggestively.
I could feel the tension tighten like a coil. “Uh-oh,” I muttered.
Instead, Emily leaned forward, her expression serious. “It seems you still really like Everett. Like, a lot.”
I nodded slowly, unable to deny the truth in her words.
“So maybe it’s time you meet in real life?” Sadie suggested, her eyebrows raised in challenge.
The thought alone sent a wave of anxiety through me. “What if he doesn’t like me, though?” I mumbled, fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth.
They both rolled their eyes. Emily, always the more forthright of the two, chimed in, “You’re literally a wet dream, Rachel. Any guy would be stupid not to like you, and I know for a fact he’s been pining over HuntraTheRed for ages. He just needs to meet the girl behind the mask.”
My heart fluttered at the thought, but a knot of fear remained. “I don’t know,” I hesitated. “Heroes Quest invited both of us to a promo event in New York. It seemed like a fun opportunity, and I was debating going anyway to make some contacts for the game I’m developing.”
“Ooh, I like where this is going,” Emily perked up, her face lighting up. “You could meet and just be friends…”
I shook my head, cutting her off. “No, I don’t think so.”
They both groaned in unison, their disappointment palpable. Sadie crossed her arms. “Rachel, you’re not giving yourself enough credit. Plus, imagine the sparks! It could be like your fanfic come to life—but, you know, less cyborg-y.”
I laughed despite my nerves, the image of Everett and me meeting in real life mingling with the outlandish scenarios I’d penned. As ridiculous as it sounded, part of me wondered if maybe, just maybe, they were right. Could the real-life meeting of HuntraTheRed and EverDemon023 live up to the virtual legend we’d built?
“Fine,” Sadie said. “We won’t pester you about it anymore, but just know we think you should meet.” She then shifted the topic to something less terrifying and more career. “So, how’s the whole VR therapy game coming along?” she inquired.
As we wrapped up our conversation, I steered the topic towards my latest project. “Jo is letting me hire consultants and game developers to make my game,” I shared, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety. “She wants established game companies to back and partner with it, though, which means I have to market myself more aggressively.”
“Dude, you’re HuntraTheRed,” Sadie said with a smirk. “It should be easy for you to drum up interest.”
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “I know, I know, but I try to keep that part of my life separate. I don’t want my mother and sister finding out about it.”
It had taken a while for me to open up about the life I’d left behind in Oklahoma, but once I did, they were always irritated by how my family treated me.
“One of these days I’m giving them both a piece of my mind,” Sadie declared, punching her palm for emphasis.
“Get in line,” Emily chimed in.
I chuckled weakly. “I’ll figure this out somehow.”
Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message. I glanced down to see a text from my boss.
Jo: Come to the office immediately.
My stomach dropped.
“Guess I’m about to be fired,” I muttered half-jokingly, though the fear was real.
Sadie and Emily both gave me sympathetic looks, their earlier jests fading into concern. “Good luck,” Sadie said, her voice soft.
“Let us know how it goes,” Emily added, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze.
I nodded, feeling a sudden rush of gratitude for their support. With one last look at my friends, I headed out, unsure of what awaited me at the office but fortified by the strength of the bonds I had formed far from home.