Chapter 46
Luca
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“Oh, Luca.” Hank’s smile is almost pitiful as he looks at me, and that’s when I know I’ve lost. I’ve just asked him to be fair and settle the whole affair out of court with Sophia.
“You’ve let them wrap you round their little finger, haven’t you?
That, and some other things, is what I warned you against.”
He pats my shoulder, and I try hard not to jerk away. How could I ever have seen him as my role model? Was I that bad of a judge of his character? Or was he just a good actor?
“There’s more than one way to solve this whole thing without drama. You could find an agreement; maybe you could split the rights to the game or Sophia could buy the rights off you, or . . .”
I stop when Hank shakes his head. He takes a slow, deliberate sip of his coffee, like this is nothing but a boring, day-to-day issue to him.
Who knows, maybe it is. But my heart’s racing like I’ve already knocked back several cups of espresso.
We’ve moved over to the edge of the breakfast room so no one can overhear us, but it looks like our conversation is going to be cut short anyway.
There’s no chance Hank is going to compromise.
He sets down his coffee cup, leaning back against the yellow upholstered backrest of his chair. “The thing is . . . I want the drama.” He shrugs. “And why should I avoid it? This is better for publicity than our Digital Triumph nomination.”
“Is that why you wanted to join me at GameChanger?” I look straight into his blue-gray eyes, which sparkle way too cheerfully for the tension of the moment.
“It’s a classic win-win situation. We both got what we wanted, didn’t we?
That’s what makes a good deal.” He smiles at me like I should be grateful, but I’m trying my damnedest not to throw the contents of my coffee cup in his face.
Everything about this whole thing was fake.
Staged. “I’m afraid I need to get going.
I have a meeting with Rodrick Crow to attend.
” He knocks back the rest of his coffee, slaps the table by way of bidding me goodbye, and walks out of my line of sight.
It’s over. For Lara, but for me too, somehow. PixelPulse is going to be disqualified, and we might have a shot, but Hank has already stolen it from me: I didn’t want to win this way.
Everyone stares at the stage. Elsa has just stepped up to the microphone to announce the three finalists.
Everyone’s rapt with attention, apart from Shane, who’s staring daggers at Lara instead.
That’s a small win, at least. Despite the big fat knot in my chest, I smile as Lara returns his gaze, giving him a cheerful little wave.
I’m so damned proud of her. There must be a storm raging inside her, but on the outside, she seems calm, and that’s what seems to be pissing off Shane the most. Because he certainly isn’t calm.
“I just love the anger in his eyes.” Akito looks away from Elsa for a short moment as well to watch the spectacle unfold.
We’ve both chosen a seat on the edge of the room, me so Shane has less of a chance to sit next to me, and Akito so there’s room for his wheelchair.
Hiroshi’s standing next to us at one of the round tables. “He totally deserves this.”
“That’s for sure,” I agree.
Lara told Elsa that Shane was the one who recorded her and published the video on TikTok—with as-yet-unpublished footage of Novel Haven in the background.
After a short consultation with Mr. Crow, and after they found proof on Shane’s mobile and got his confession, the organizers immediately disqualified him and his studio.
They’re still allowed to take part in the trade fair, but they’re out of the race for funding.
It’s obvious from looking at Shane that he blames Lara, not himself.
Introspection doesn’t seem to be his forte, but at least it has no effect on the final result: He’s out of the picture, and everyone knows it.
And even better, Lara made it happen. She stood up for herself.
Her team are standing their ground as well. PixelPulse has been disqualified, but it was left up to them whether they wanted to pack up shop or not, what with the whole situation. And they’re still here.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Elsa announces, smiling broadly.
Though she doesn’t seem to like the comparison much, she does look like a certain Disney princess right now.
“I’m thrilled to welcome you here at GameChanger and on our live stream.
GameChanger has become a long-standing tradition, an important staging ground for exhibitors, and a fixture in the community, as we can see from the countless cosplayers and streamers who have made it here.
” She smiles, first at the crowd and then at the cameras.
There’s tension, hope, and excitement on people’s faces in the audience.
My heart should be racing, I should be counting down the seconds, rooting for our game—Maleek and I worked toward this day for half an eternity, after all.
But now I can’t enjoy it. Never mind the fact that the funding is still my only way of finishing Desolate Dread.
There’s not a scrap of hope left in me that Hank will assign our game any more budget, now that he’s seen how convinced sponsors are of its merit.
And not now that I know his true reasons for participating in the trade fair. This was never about the game.
While Elsa gives a short summary of the concept behind GameChanger, I glance back over my shoulder. Even now, Hank stands a few rows behind me, engrossed in a whispered conversation with Shane’s boss. They must be railing against PixelPulse.
I wish Maleek were here. I wish I’d brought him along from the start.
It’s our work, and he should be seeing all of this.
Not Hank. Hank may have given us a helpful push—without him, we wouldn’t have had the nice booth or all the attention—but we would’ve handled it together, like we’ve always done so far.
But no, Hank had to make a scene. And I benefited from it.
I clench my jaw so hard it hurts and focus on Elsa again: “. . . received countless impressive applications, which show the diversity and talent in the indie-game-development scene. I’m glad the judges only had to decide the preliminaries.
That was hard enough. Now, on-site, the public vote has chosen three favorites for this year’s GameChanger competition.
They will have to face the judgment of the online community over the next few hours.
Unfortunately, two studios had to be excluded from the judging process.
You can view our reasons for this decision on our website and in the press announcement linked there.
” Elsa’s smile doesn’t falter, not even for a second.
Each one of her words tightens the pressure around my chest, and I’m having a hard time not turning around to face Hank.
“Once we’ve announced the top three, you ladies and gentlemen at home can test the three games and leave your reviews on our website. ”
Elsa’s words and the tension in the air finally manage to jangle my nerves after all. Muhammad, sitting to my left, seems to feel the same, because I hear him take a deep breath.
“Tonight at seven, be sure to tune in for the results of the public vote. You can help your game win from home.”
Elsa pauses dramatically, glancing over at us, and suddenly, the large screen shows our faces. I can hear Maleek laughing already; I look insanely nervous. I can just hear his words—Relax, mate—ringing in my ears. He’s probably taking a screenshot this very second to turn me into a meme.
“Before I announce the three studios who have made it to the final round, I’d like to thank all the participants.
Your passion and creativity aren’t just inspiring; they also play a vital role in the development of the video game industry.
Gaming has the unique capacity to connect people from different backgrounds.
It overcomes geographical borders; it creates communities and connects us via shared obstacles and successes.
We are very grateful that we’re able to offer people a platform for all of that, and that we can promote those goals.
But now, let’s get into what you’ve all been waiting for: the announcement of the three finalists.
Each of them will receive prize money and a chance at funding from GameChanger, free participation at next year’s trade fair, and of course, the coveted trophy. ”
I can see Lara turning toward me from the corner of my eye, and when I return her gaze, there’s sadness in it.
The knot in my chest tightens, threatening to suffocate me.
I wish I could reload the past few days like a game, changing everything and making it better for her—but I can’t.
There’s a timid smile on her face, and she gives me a thumbs-up.
I return her smile, ignoring the pain in my chest, because she would have been so, so deserving of all this.
The win. The applause. The funding. The recognition of her hard work.
“Now for our first finalist.” Elsa pauses again, and now my heart does start racing after all.
“A studio who has made it their business to live innovation and make gaming more accessible so that everything I’ve just said about community works for everyone.
” I glance over at Akito to see tears glistening in his eyes.
Of course. He and Hiroshi gave this game their all too—and they had to deal with the added obstacle of adapting the VR hardware.
Much as I want to win, they probably deserve it even more.
“Their dedication is a shining example of how technology and gaming can improve lives and promote inclusion. You already know, of course, that I’m talking about VR Limitless.
Takahashi Akito and Saito Hiroshi. If you’d please join me on stage. ”