Chapter 30
Luca
A strong team makes all the difference.
Use your allies’ advantages and pay attention to their attack and defense values to keep the upper hand in fights.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Brown.”
“Of course, my pleasure!”
The little light on the camera turns off, and Marcus, whose questions I’ve been eagerly answering for the past fifteen minutes, runs a hand through his white-blond hair.
He stows his microphone away. There are three white rectangles printed on the mic, and a black letter in each: BBC.
I did an interview with the BBC. Me. About my game.
And watching Marcus curiously poke around our booth and instruct his colleagues to record visitors and decorations, I’m starting to think they’re serious about broadcasting.
I turned on the fog machine for the interview, and with the large train station clock and the dark walls, the whole scene feels eerie and autumnal.
Marcus and his cameraman capture it all, and I pull my phone from my trouser pocket again.
I take some pictures for Maleek, just to show him the sheer absurdity of it all.
Who knows when he’ll see them; he’s got his hands full back in London too.
He’s been flooded with interview requests and emails from streamers looking to present our game on their channels.
I would never have thought that our participation in GameChanger would be enough to create such a sensation.
“Good work,” Hank tells me in passing. His arms are stacked high with goodies, because we’ve run out yet again.
I thought the amount he’d ordered was absurd at first, but now I understand why.
Maleek and I would probably have gone with half the material, and right now, I’m just plain grateful for Hank’s experience.
He’s actively been doing his part all day.
For the questions he couldn’t answer, he referred people over to me.
It’s a strange dynamic, almost like our power balance has flipped.
A glance at my watch tells me that four hours have passed. I could have sworn it was just a few minutes. But my stomach growls in protest, so my watch must be telling the truth.
I wave at Hank to get his attention. “I’ll go for a coffee and a bagel. Do you want anything?”
“Coffee would be smashing,” he tells me with a smile. “I’ll hold the fort in the meantime.”
“See you in a bit,” I call and shuffle out through the queue in front of our booth.
It never seems to be getting any shorter.
No wonder; the place looks great, like you’re stumbling around London on a rainy night.
What if we actually win? What if we get the prize money, and all the attention that comes with it?
My hunger is joined by a nervous prickling sensation in my stomach.
I’m aware that Desolate Dread won’t solve all my problems. My mum is right: It can’t heal my scars.
Nothing in this world can. Still, it helps me live with them.
It helps me, because I firmly believe that video games—like music, art, and books—can teach us things, help us grow.
If I can teach even a handful of people out there something about mental health, and if just one person takes action in the right moment because of my game, if they do better than I did, that’ll be enough.
I can’t undo what happened, but I can do everything in my power to do better in the future.
And contrary to my parents’ opinion, I have to dig into my past for that.
When I enter the fenced-off exhibitors’ area, my eyes fall on the one person who understands that thought as well as I do.
Lara’s standing by the buffet table with a plate of falafel and hummus in her hands.
She hasn’t spotted me yet, and I take the opportunity to unabashedly stare at her: her long hair with the blue tips that I now know, unfortunately, is silky soft between my fingers, her plump lips, her legs in her usual knee-high stockings.
My gaze is drawn in by the flash of skin between her stockings and her skirt, and my fingers itch, because I want nothing more than to touch her.
I swallow and try to get a hold on my thoughts.
I consider turning back the way I came like a damn coward for a moment, but what good would that do?
There’s no reason why we shouldn’t talk, and I’ll be seeing her at the networking do tonight anyway.
But I should keep my thoughts to myself—there’s too much on the line.
“Hey,” I say as casually as I can muster when I join her by the table. The fact that her eyes gleam with joy is enough to make my chest ache longingly. I should’ve sent Hank over to the buffet.
“Hi!” Lara replies, seeming much more relaxed than I am. “You on your break too?”
“Yeah, I need caffeine, and despite the cliché, I hate energy drinks.”
“And they let you in?” Lara raises her dark eyebrows. “The horror.”
“Don’t tell them, or they’ll kick me out.”
“Well then, I’ll save up my leverage for an emergency.
” She’s joking, but it washes away the longing in my chest and reminds me again why I should keep my distance: We’re competitors.
And Hank warned me. I grab one of the little jars with tomatoes and mozzarella and one of the filled bagels, and then I walk over to the coffee machine with Lara by my side.
“How are you doing?” I ask. In truth, I’ve been avoiding checking on her booth—but I wouldn’t have had time anyway, even if I’d wanted to.
“Much better than I thought! No issues with the demo. It’s packed in there, and we already have a ton of wish-list entries.
” Lara’s eyes shine as she grabs a cup with the blue GameChanger logo on it.
I return her smile, but I can’t stop my shoulders from tensing.
I was so wrapped up in my own universe for the last few hours that I didn’t even think about the fact that other studios might be similarly successful.
It doesn’t diminish my own success, but it certainly makes it stand out less.
And it has to stand out, if I want to get anywhere.
An exhibitor from one of the bigger booths moves aside for us with a smile, and I set down my plate and grab two cups as well.
“And how are you doing?” Lara asks over the noise of the machine. “With the crowds, I mean.”
“Surprisingly fine,” I answer truthfully. “Somehow, everyone here has a similar vibe going on; they’re just excited to be here. Makes it much easier to handle them.”
“I know what you mean. Really makes you feel like you belong.” She smiles a little. “I can even present my game to people without any embarrassing pauses now. And I recorded a TikTok with someone. Nataly’s going to be riled when she sees; she’s always trying to force me in front of a camera.”
“So now I have leverage against you too,” I point out.
“You wouldn’t.”
I grin in response. I didn’t mean to grin. I also meant to avoid conversations like this one, because it just makes everything more complicated. And yet, my smile makes me feel like a sodding teenager talking to a girl for the first time.
“Wotcher, you lovebirds.”
Lara and I jump apart in the same instant, almost like Shane’s just caught us doing something very different from getting coffee together. My heart hammers guiltily in my chest, and I nod at him while Lara simply picks up her full cup.
“God, my feet hurt,” Shane says with a groan. “D’you mind if I cut in line? I’m in a hurry. Rodrick Crow’s about to record some stuff with his son at our booth. I’ve heard he plays shooter games too.”
I give him a tense grimace in return and wish I could say yes, I do mind, because he deserves to be late. But saying no would get him out of our hair faster, so I shake my head. He steps around us to the machine and then turns to Lara.
“You nervous about tomorrow at all?”
Lara shrugs. “Not really, everything’s going fine so far.”
“But the presentation’s tomorrow, though.” Shane’s smile is so sickly sweet that it makes me want to hurl. All over him, ideally. When I see a shadow pass over Lara’s expression, I start to say something, but she beats me to the punch.
“My boss is going to be on stage like we planned last time.” She’s smiling too. “And she’s great; she does this sort of thing on the regular. Maybe you should be nervous.”
Shane barks out a laugh, and then he grabs his full coffee cup. “Hear, hear. She’s got teeth, that one.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turns on his heel and leaves the exhibitors’ lounge.
“You know what?” I say, “I think I agree with you after all. I honestly can’t imagine his mum liking him.”
Lara and I gaze at each other for a heartbeat, and then we break into spluttering laughter.
When the last person has left our booth, Hank and I heave a collective sigh. We’ve made it. My feet hurt, and my back even more. Bouldering, running, sitting down for hours; no problem. But being on my feet basically all day? That’s absolute hell.
“What a day,” I mutter, dropping into one of the gaming chairs. It’s still warm from the teenager who—under his dad’s keen eye—just enthusiastically played a round of Desolate Dread.
“You can say that again. I’m getting too old for this nonsense.”
“Thanks for coming, though. Honestly. You noticed so many tiny details I would’ve missed.” Would I have thought to check if there were enough wall sockets? Would I have ordered as much merch as he did? And the fridge? Absolutely not.
“Sure. And no worries, it’s all just experience.
My first trade-fair appearance back in the day was a total embarrassment.
” Hank laughs quietly at the memory, and when I give him an inquisitive look, he takes a seat in the other chair with a groan.
“I was perfectly prepared, went and got myself tips from everyone I could—back then, I was in my mid-twenties and quite clueless. I thought of everything: Promo materials, ordering the tech, name tags for myself and the team. It was going to be my grand debut; Bytes that used to be the popular opinion in the press and the industry back then, at least. So it was incredibly important that I avoid putting my foot in my mouth, that I come across as professional. I even wore a suit. At a gaming convention.” He laughs.
“Well, so there I was, welcoming everyone—they were probably there for the voyeurism more than any sort of belief in me and my idea—and I was ready to start my presentation.” He pauses.
“And . . . nothing. I pushed the button on the pointer like mad, the keys on my notebook—those things were much bulkier back then—hammering away at it, basically.”
“And then what? Was it broken?”
“And then I plugged the damn thing in to charge the battery.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope. Fortunately, there were no smartphones back then to record the whole thing, but word got out anyway, of course. I had what I wanted: I was the topic of interest at the trade fair. But not for the reasons I would’ve hoped.”
This whole story reminds me a lot of Lara and her own performance. I really, really hope that she can pull some kind of strength from it, or at least get over what happened.
“That must have been hard,” I reply, and Hank nods.
“It was, but it makes you stronger too. I decided no one was ever going to laugh at Bytes & Bits again, and now we’ve won Game of the Year with Havoc City, and we’re nominated for the Digital Triumph Award.
So I’d say I didn’t do too badly.” His expression turns serious, and he scrutinizes me, but unlike normally, there’s nothing uncomfortable about his scrutiny.
“That’s why I’m so strict with you and Maleek.
You need to stand your ground. You can create the best game out there, but perseverance is the thing that truly puts you a notch above the rest. Good ideas are ten a penny, many people have those, but most of them don’t hold up under pressure. The industry is tough. So be tougher.”
I nod, feeling nothing but gratitude for Hank.
For giving me a chance, for being here. He might be more of the bootcamp sort, one of those men who don’t work with praise, who egg you on to do your best with yelling and a whistle.
But he’s given me and my idea a chance, and I give him great credit for the fact that he’s here, in the middle of crunch time for his other games.
Hank sits up straight again. “But enough of my ancient wisdom,” he says as he switches off the lights in our booth.
We decided to use ones that look like old streetlamps, just like the ones in our game.
“Judging by the noise, the first few folks are heading over to the lounge. You coming along for the networking meet?”
“Absolutely!” I reply, trying to convince myself that my sudden burst of energy is from the caffeine or my conversation with Hank. But deep down, I know the real reason is a woman with blue-and-black hair.