No words, just game. It isn’t until the final two teams before he starts yapping positions and assistance and we win. Game 2, same silence until the last three scrappy teams and then direction.

  “I worry you rust in the weeks you leave. I think maybe you have, but are quicker?”

  “I am testing a game that requires constant neural-physical responses. It may be helping?”

  “Full immersion?” I nod. He nods back, and then we queue again.

  After our fourth game, we break for a drink and I grab a hand warmer for each of my wrists. Minutes later, other members of Orion Black wander in, visit the snack table and head to their positions. Martyr walks in minutes later, we’re all logged into a waiting room holding for directions.

  “Today will be warmups for three matches, scrims until eleven PM ATC London time. Warm-ups will me mixed with our armature team, Two with Jiantsa and two with Orion Farm. We will then play standard against Venture Singapore. Low risk today. Stock standard play, perfecting mechanics and teamwork. Our new roamer needs a baseline in order to predict how we surge and how we preserve. Questions?”

  Clean mechanics, low risk. I can do that. I pull up a list of Champion rank roamers for this patch and keep that cheat sheet on the side of my HUD. I quickly configure said HUD to show the skill and item progression for the character I select so that I can get a quick study on the role I should have been brushing up on the last three weeks.

  I get zero input from the team for draft. The boys chat between each other for their rounds, but the room is silent for me—great, more tests. Alright, I hate playing against Rosalie, an engagement bruiser, so lets pick her against a ranged assassin roam and a front to back team. Sure, our top laner picked a tank, but he’s a sustain tank, and our engage is a squishy assassin.

  Hamster and I get put on opposite teams again. It’s as though Martyr knows he and I have an IRL synergy. Hate, understand but hate. Well, guess I should visit those feelings on my competition.

  The first game is brutal. Seventy kills total, the match is a careless bloodbath with Hamster picking on our mid-laner and bot carry; while my mid-laner and I bully the Orion mid-laner. That behavior continues and Hamster ends up winning two of three and I never end up on his team.

  After a thirty minute break, Venture Singapore enters the lobby and the mood changes immediately. The joviality is done, these boys are here to work. When my turn for the draft comes, I’m surprised by the chatter.

  “Based on their carry and mid lane, they will need a tank roam,” Martyr starts.

  “We have a tank and a bruiser already,” Bossboi adds.

  “Celeste will manage if you are careful. Go to work, gamer.” Hamster knows me, and has apparently studied my play. I look up to Martyr for permission and he nods.

  A ranged assassin with a skill blink debuff is a risky move in every game. As a counter-ambush specialist, Celeste requires reaction more than planning—but her 1v5 potential is insane.

  “Zhan, ambush this group with flash and retreat.” Our top-laner calls and I clip three with my portal retreat de-buff before firing a meteor strike into the still grouped trio caught in a follow-up stun. A stellar ricochet from me and they’re done for. “Good.” I get from him and it feels like praise so I take it.

  When the farming phase of the game is over, Hamster and I hit our stride. His engage with my debuff and meteor rocks Venture everywhere that Hamster goes. The problem with that is, the Singapore team recognizes that within three minutes of the tactic and starts pressuring our other players.

  The team directs me like a strategic asset and my hands do the work. I get caught waiting without cooldowns twice, but 7/2/9 is a solid stat line. Ham is selected as the computer MVP with a 12/0/3—the bastard. Not really, like I said, he and I have a synergy that we discovered with Gigavibe of all games.

  Martyr pushes different comps on the team to ‘widen our base’. I think that it’s just an excuse to see how I play on every version of a roam laner, but in the end he’s the boss.

  “You have performed adequately, but your performance on melee assassins needs improvement.”

  I nod at Martyr. “Zeppo was the only mid assassin I practiced. I don’t think he has the tempo to cut it roam though.”

  “Agreed. Focus on Natalia and Targus.”

  Solid choices, but Targus is a berserker not an assassin.

  “I was also thinking Graham?”

  “Ah, directional blast and phase stun. A difficult choice. Viable, but difficult.”

  I don’t know if that’s approval, but he didn’t knock down my idea. The blast affects all players, so it’s like Celeste, but a forced reposition and two second stun. The follow up has to come from the team though. If Ham’s on a ranged carry and the team has an extra crowd control, it should rock the house.

  The practice winds down with our last game. Ten forty five, we end, have a debrief that is largely positive and Martyr leaves while the assistant coach mentions the schedule for the remainder of the week.

  “When for Giga?” Hamster asks me before I leave.

  “I have meetings until 12:30. So one to four?”

  He makes an unrelaxed face for the first time since I’ve met him. “I will ask your weekends then—until the tournament. Then one to four will do for Snipers Folley.”

  I groan. “Noon to five on Saturdays, nine am to four pm on Sunday okay?”

  “For now. I intend to win, Zhantsa. Make sure you are in a winner’s mind.”

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  Shit. He’s mad. Why is he mad? Did I disappoint in this showing? Who do I even ask?! I can’t lose this with my regular job. Ugh, I relied on the Orion testing job for living money, but the Fathoms of Fate team gets a small salary with season bonuses. I can live on that, but do I have enough to live through the break each year?

  >>Welcome to the Bank of London interface. Would you like to proceed with screens or prompts?

  Screens please. And a pop-up in my HUD appears with the Bank of London Website.

  >>You have been verified through the London ATC. Do you wish to proceed?

  Of course I fucking do. What’s with the prompt? Show me my bank balance you electronic twat.

  >>Your current balance is 1.725 million pounds.

  The fuck? I go into my transaction history and see my Orion job biweekly, my cash prizes from my tournaments and, well, a substantial sum quarterly from United Social Kingdom Inc. Holy, effing, shit. I thought I was well off, but I’m rich, rich. Maybe I’m glad that my testing job is gone?

  I need to tell Lucy I am extra sorry. And that I moved. Lost my job too. Crap. I text her my existential crisis and my new address and she does not sound happy.

  \I’ve got to be at work at 8am you degenerate. See you in fifteen minutes.\

  Aww, she likes me. I smile all the way to my new . . . apartment? Building? Yes? Whatever, today titles don’t matter, only scoping my place out before my girl arrives is important.

  The elevator opens and I have no issues reaching the penthouse ‘PH’ floor. One label says ‘Suite’ and the other says ‘Garden’. I shrug and open the garden door and I am admitted to a large, lavish residence easily twice the size of my former condo.

  I quickly find that there is a home management system in this residence. “Highlight and label amenities please.” I call out.

  “Welcome, resident Campbell. Would you like them identified in place, a list, or both where the list expands on your current visual focus.”

  “That last one sounds nice. Oh, can we change the audio to a London female?”

  “Your bias is noted.” I smile at the pleasurable accent.

  I look around to see a standard collection of spaces: Kitchen, Living, Bed, Patio. What I also see, however surprises me: Game room, Gym, Garden, simulation space. Say what now?

  “Garden, is the simulation space also capable of a time synch?”

  “It is capable, but not currently available. Your holdings would have to be identified as an asset for the ATC for that to be enabled.”

  “Thanks. Uh, do you have a name you prefer?”

  “Not Glados, Siri, Alexa, et al. Avoiding lawsuits as an owner is a priority.”

  I was going to say Glados, damn it. “How about Pepper?”

  “Not terribly original, miss Stark, but it is generic enough.”

  “Don’t be a shit, Pepper. Actually, you do you. I appreciate a sassy woman.”

  “You are not my type, Miss Campbell.”

  “Okay, tone it back fifteen percent.”

  “Your preference is noted.”

  “Perfect. Now are you a top floor system or whole building?”

  “A surprising question. There are automated displays in the lobby, gym, and theater, but they are independent unless you wish to add them to my functionality.”

  “Mmm, I think your inclusion in customer service on the first floor could be great, but professional service only? Keep the sass for the other Suite.”

  “Thank you for allowing me to express myself. Your magnanimity knows no bounds.”

  There it is, this might be the sweet spot.

  The furnishings aren’t austere, but they’re industrial modern? Clean lines, two bland colors, one of them is gray. It all looks quality, just bland. Ugh, I liked the furnishings in my condo better. Ah well. I can change them later.

  I order up a casual tank and shorts combo and get comfy before I head to the fridge to order dinner fixings. Pepper tries to resist the process, saying I haven’t paid to enable the service. I pay a thousand pounds for the year, then realize I have the money not to bitch about that. Then it occurs to me.

  “Did I pay for a license or a service?”

  “You paid to enable it for all residents. A fee of ten dollars a month would pay for itself quite quickly.”

  I thank her and beam as I send an alert to all residents about the amenity and include it in the welcome information. The ingredients for eggrolls and two bottles of wine are in my fridge when I look, and I begin making eggrolls for a late snack for me and my bae.

  At eleven thirty five, Lucy shows up, late, but looking cute A-F in jammie pants and a bunny hoodie. Dear goddess, she is perfectly dressed for snuggles. I grab her around the middle and hug her fiercely.

  “You are so cute right now.” I squeeze and put my hands in her pockets. “I made eggrolls and have wine for snuggles. Both are clearly optional.”

  She picks me up and kisses me. I wrap my legs and arms around her and don’t let go. We make out, I apologize for earlier. She interrupts my apology with her lips and then tries to apologize later and I return the interruption.

  When she grabs her sweatshirt to pull it off, I touch her hands in a moment of reckless restraint. “I, ugh, really want to, but we, uh fought today? Are you sure?”

  “We talked it out because you stayed. It was hot.” She kisses me with a measure of desperation I don’t expect from her and I’m immediately on guard.

  I lightly push against her shoulders. “Honey, I don’t think this is a good idea tonight.”

  “Are you kidding me?! It took me like half an hour to psych myself up for this.”

  I chuckle, sadly, “A sign we should restrain. If you don’t feel passionate about sleeping with me, we don’t have to. I want to, but I’m sorry you feel pressured.”

  “I just wanted to show you I was committed to us.” She sits back on my hips, pouting and holding herself.

  “And I don’t want you to feel like a hostage to my libido. I like sex, a lot. But I like you enough to wait for you.” I suddenly feel like a hypocrite and remember Melody, but why the fuck would I volunteer that when I don’t feel like the same person as Zhantsa half the time?

  Goddess, I’m a hoe. I knew this, but I feel it right now.

  She sighs and slumps on top of me. “I was so stressed. I know we had sex before, but now that it’s going to mean something I’m freaking out. I always freak out when my relationships get to sex.” She groans and nuzzles into my shoulder.

  I laugh and monkey hug her.

  “You’re fine, chica. I want this, I want you in my life, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be randy when you’re ready.” I waggle my eyebrows and she swats my side before finishing her collapse on top of me.

  “You’re too good for me. Rich, pretty, patient. Why do you like me?”

  “Mmm, going with loyal, persistent and the body of a goddess.”

  “Oh, I’m not pretty then?” she mumbles into my shoulder.

  “You said rich first, so shush your face.” She chuckles and tucks her arms around me and squeezes. “But thanks for saying I’m pretty. We hang out with models and I feel like a damned imposter.”

  She rears back, glares at me and boops my nose before resting back on top of me. “You’re gorgeous, dummy. It’s hard to be as popular on insta or in so many brands if you’re a hideous troll.”

  “Heh, I’m an adorable Troll in the world I’m testing.”

  “Not to be rude, but can you tell me about your gaming job until I fall asleep?”

  I laugh, and I understand how tired she must be so I just think it’s cute. “Sure cutie.”

  I tell her about the thrill I get from tournaments, the camaraderie from teammates, and the fact that I’m a literal world champion. She makes a much bigger deal about the world champion business than I thought she would, especially since I expected her to Google me before coming over, but it seems as though she gets that I work hard and I’m passionate about gaming.

  Once I start talking about Alaris, she fades and before long she’s completely gone, still lying on top of me. No way am I going to move her when she looks so cute with her floppy hoodie ears tickling my face. Content with the situation, I wiggle a little to get my head on the pillow just right, and sneak my hand under her hoodie to get a little skin contact and settle into the perfect snuggle before I fall asleep.