Don't Hate the Player

by Alexis Nedd

  shineedancer: is this speech a screenshot of penelope’s finsta because i’m sensing a really big “but”

  ElementalP: omg thank you

  BobTheeQ: BUT. We need to be prepared for tomorrow. Wizzard only knows about the dox, not who did it. The player swap is unrelated as far as they know.

  BobTheeQ: We want to win as clean as possible, with as little drama as possible. The payload is our first priority, checkmate only if things go south. Fury will try to bait us into doing something stupid. You especially, Emilia.

  Beloveandabow: why would i do anything stupid? they only violated my privacy, basically called me a slut, doxxed me, kicked me, and still have photo evidence that I hooked up with your teammate before you let me on the team. how stupid could any action i take against them possibly be under those circumstances

  JHoops: hey em what’s the countdown difference between pharaoh’s normal type bolts and the necro piercers

  Beloveandabow: .75 seconds, .6 more if his mana at less than 50% why

  JHoops: i just wanted to cut you off before you spiraled

  ElementalP: the fact that jake doesn’t have a gay twin sister is my life’s greatest tragedy

  shineedancer: do not feed his ego any more i am begging you

  shineedancer: he kissed emilia one time and thought that meant he could win a fight

  Beloveandabow: ummm when did that happen?

  JHoops: hey bob how about that speech you were just typing to all of us i was really enjoying that

  BobTheeQ: Don’t worry about me, I’m having a great time.

  BobTheeQ: Seriously though, get to bed everyone. Stay sharp and follow my lead tomorrow. I have faith in You-nity. Blue cross! Black shield!

  shineedancer: can’t lose:)

  [shineedancer has left the chat]

  ElementalP: CANT LOSE

  [ElementalP has left the chat]

  JHoops: can’t lose!

  Beloveandabow: wait what is this something we do? nobody told me there was a call and response portion of the program should we start over

  [BobTheeQ has left the chat]

  Beloveandabow: no i want to do the team thing too! Jake!

  JHoops: just say can’t lose, em

  Beloveandabow: can’t lose

  JHoops: nailed it.

  JHoops: are you really ok for tomorrow?

  Beloveandabow: lol no i’m freaking out. I have no idea what’s going to happen and i’m really used to at least kind of knowing what’s going to happen

  JHoops: whatever does happen you got up there and showed them you’re not afraid

  Beloveandabow: to be clear, i am very afraid

  JHoops: i know. we got you tho

  Beloveandabow: and i got you

  JHoops: sleep tight. * <-that’s a kiss

  Beloveandabow: come on dude

  JHoops: too cheesy? sorry

  Beloveandabow: * <-kissing u back

  JHoops: yeah wow that sucks we’re not doing that again

  Beloveandabow: never

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Emilia, Saturday

  A FEW THINGS I am learning at my first ridiculously high-stakes esports championship match:

  1.As big as the crowd is, I’m only playing for an audience of four. To emphasize how grounded I am, my parents took my car keys and drove me, Penny, and Matt to the arena this morning. They also took full advantage of my previously unused comp tickets to get seats that are, in my opinion, way too close to the stage for comfort. I made all of them promise not to wave, take flash pictures, or make any noise that I could easily identify as coming out of their mouths, and I sincerely hope they hold up their end of the bargain. I never thought my parents would find out about GLO, let alone want to watch me play it, and now that they’re here, it just adds another layer of nervousness to what’s already become the most nerve-racking day of my life. I want them to see me win, but more than that, I want them to understand why I’m here. Matt already understands, obviously, which is why I’ve asked him to be my parents’ and Penny’s gamer translator for the day. Matches move fast, and as nervous as they make me, I want my parents to know what they’re proud of.

  2.Bob must have worked some magic on Wizzard, or else put the fear of God in anyone in a position to question why I switched to Unity for the final match. Once I said yes to joining their team and got the full, unabridged story of Muddy’s deception (Unity graciously withheld from my parents that me kissing Jake is what sparked his whole tantrum, for which I am eternally grateful), all I had to do was e-sign some documents. Bob handled the rest and spread a convincing enough tale that no one at the arena seemed surprised or creeped out that I showed up in a blue jersey. Jake and I are both pretty pleased about that—the mystery of the DPS swap gives our first match as teammates a little extra edge.

  3.It is so, so much better going into a match with people I actually like on my side. I’m not just talking about Jake (though I did technically shove him in a broom closet and kiss him senseless when he showed up this morning, for luck), but the rest of Unity too. In Round 1, I was petrified to meet the rest of Team Fury and worried they wouldn’t like me even after I’d been playing with them for months; I’ve known most of Unity for a week, and they treat me like their long-lost sister who is also a highly competent digital assassin. I don’t have to prove myself to them at all, which is a big weight off my back considering how awful I’d have felt coming into this match from the opposite side of the stage. Thanks to Unity, all of my current jitters are directed precisely where they’re supposed to be: the match. Nothing else. We have thirty seconds until they call us onstage, and Jake is holding my hand in the wings. I’m feeling nervous and lucky at the same time. Nerucky? Lurvous.

  It’s possible I’d be less nervous if Thibault Adige hadn’t crashed our pre-match meeting just a few minutes ago. One second we’re holding hands in a circle while Bob leads us in a focusing chant, and the next, he was standing at the door with a small army of assistants peeking in from the hallway. It was all standard stuff, and I’m pretty sure he’d stopped by Fury’s green room earlier to say the exact same thing. But shaking the hand that designed GLO was more than I’d expected from my morning.

  “I weesh you all ze best of luck,” Thibault told us. “I ’ave already designed a free champions’ tabard skin to go out in a patch tonight. Eef you win, it will be blue. If it is Fury, red.”

  So if Fury wins, we won’t be able to log into GLO ever again without running into someone sporting fabulous red armor in honor of our nemeses. But hey, no pressure.

  If—no, when—we win, we’ll get to spend a lot more time with Thibault. Bob says he’ll be organizing the rollout for next year’s tournaments, and even if the winning team doesn’t compete, they get to go with him as ambassadors for the league. All we have to do is make sure those tabards go out blue.

  Jake squeezes my hand and brings me back to the moment. I don’t need hand warmers when I have him.

  “Ready?” he whispers. From the wings, I see Fury filing out from their side of the stage. All in a row, with Muddy at the end as a surprise. Pretty boring of Byunki to pull the same move twice, but I have the tremendous advantage of not having to care.

  “Ready,” I whisper back. I let go of his hand just as the announcer calls for Bob (BTEQ).

  The lights and sounds of the arena don’t freeze me this time. I walk out after Ki (KIKI) with more confidence than I’ve had for the entire rest of the tournament. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little thrill when the crowd whooped in shock to see KNOX here, but not even my brand-new Unity portrait (Wizzard took one this morning; they must have rushed Muddy’s too) distracts me from taking my place standing with my team.

  Jake, or HOOP as he goes in competition, and P (LMNO) line up next, and for a moment it’s just the ten of us onstage. I keep my gaze straight ahead, refusing to look over and grace Fury with my attention.

  “Finalists.” The announcer booms from the speakers like a movie t
railer’s voice of God. “Shake hands and take your seats.”

  Oh, buddy, I’m not shaking shit. I glance over at Bob, who makes an apologetic face at me. Neither us nor Wizzard wants the drama behind this match to leak. After a beat, Bob sets the example by walking up to Byunki and shaking his hand. Byunki doesn’t even look up to meet his eyes. I’d give a lot of money to find out more about what happened between them; all I know is that they dated and that’s what started this whole rivalry. If Bob can shake his ex’s hand, then surely I can shake my enemy’s without maneuvering into an over-the-shoulder judo toss that sends them flipping into the audience.

  Fury doesn’t budge, so it’s up to us to give ground, walk over, and show good sportsmanship to each and every one of those pricks. When I get to Han and Erik, they stare coldly at a spot over my shoulder; Ivan is the only one who looks a little . . . sad? Upset? He always was my favorite. Maybe I was his favorite too.

  Muddy I have a problem with, but after seeing Bob and Ki get through him without trouble, I think I can handle him. I’ve never even met the guy and he tried to completely ruin my life over, what, one kiss? A misguided sense of betrayal? Long-standing issues with intimacy, toxic masculinity, and a single-minded pursuit of greed stemming from attachment issues he developed as a child? Running over the reasons he might have betrayed Unity keeps me busy while he has my hand, and by the time I’m done, it’s time to let go.

  Except he doesn’t.

  I feel Jake bump into me from the side—he was going through the line as mechanically as I was, and now we’re clumped together on the stage, with Muddy holding my hand and Jake close enough to feel both of us breathing.

  “Listen to me,” Muddy says through a fake grin. To everyone watching, it looks like he’s merely saying something to his replacement in earshot of his former teammate. There are no rules against that as far as I know. Doesn’t mean I want to find out what he says next.

  “If you win, I’ll release the picture,” he continues. From the corner of my eye, I see Jake turn white. “Everyone will know you’re a slut who stole my spot. Lose and it goes away forever.”

  Shit. I try to pull my hand away from Muddy’s grip but can’t do it too violently without arousing suspicion. The audience is already quieting down, wondering why the DPS handshake is taking so long. I look down at his grip on me, hating the way his hand feels in mine, when I see Jake reach out and grab Muddy’s wrist.

  “Can’t lose,” Jake says quietly. His fingers tighten over Muddy’s arm, squeezing it until he’s forced to let go of me. I pull my hand back too quickly; some people in the audience gasp.

  Thank god the lights up here are too bright for me to peek down and see my friends in the front row. Matt had to stop Penny from trying to pack a Taser in her purse this morning.

  The Unity table is close. I just have to take a few totally normal, nonchalant steps and take my seat. It feels impossible. Bad enough that just posting my name brought the incel hordes screaming into my real life, but Muddy’s photo shows Jake and me kissing in my original uniform. He’s right; no matter what I say after the fact, it will look like I slept my way onto Unity and sink my reputation before I can sign Wizzard’s contract.

  Bob can see I’m trembling when I sit down and motions for me to put my headphones on. The tight, dim hum of noise cancellation feels suffocating in my ears. Jake rushes over to the table and takes his spot next to me, followed by Penelope.

  “Jake,” I say, trying to keep my face neutral so it looks like we’re just checking our levels. “I—”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Jake replies quickly. He’s still pale as a ghost when he reaches under the table to touch my leg for a too-short second. “Muddy isn’t getting what he wants today.”

  “What happened?” Bob asks. I leave it to Jake to explain; I can’t find the words.

  “Shit, okay.” I see Bob look over at Fury for a second. “Jake’s right, don’t listen. Fury doesn’t get a win today; Muddy doesn’t get a win later. We’ll figure something out. Ki, give me the swap spot.”

  “What?” Ki sputters. This wasn’t the plan.

  “I have a bad feeling Byunki wants to checkmate me instead of fighting for the payload. I want the swap in case I need to change my tank to ward him off,” Bob explains.

  “Okay.” Ki nods. We all watch on our computer screens as Bob reassigns the swap totem to his character.

  “I’m going Carrigan or Grendel.” A mech or a monster tank. Bob is betting that Byunki will either keep Klio, a fire tank that would be weak against Grendel the monster, or change his tank to Lucafont the ghost specifically to target Bob’s usual character, the magic type Fabella. If Bob swaps his tank to Carrigan, a mech, Byunki won’t have any advantage over him regardless of the character he chooses. Something about that seems familiar, but I’m too distracted by the start of the countdown to put my finger on it.

  “Mics down; let’s go, Unity!” Bob yells. I can’t tell if the audience heard him, but the artificially blunted sound of cheers does seem to get a smidge more intense. I chance one more look at Jake, who nods at me (not even a smile? I could really use a smile), and get ready to tunnel my vison in 3 . . . ​ 2 . . . 1.

  The map is Euphrates Crater, an abandoned city of dusty brick towers built in the middle of a bowl-shaped depression on the surface of one of the GLO universe’s many ruined planets. There are very few high points, which is bad for Pharaoh, but the map also has none of the environmental hazards that could jack up a strategy based around certain characters—no water sources to debuff fire and mechs or dead zones where magic gets fritzy. Wizzard wants this championship to cleanly showcase us as players with no tricks or lucky breaks.

  As we beam down onto the map, I hold Pharaoh’s crossbow up to take advantage of his aiming zoom and peek at Fury’s lineup across the map. The others are falling too fast for me to see, but I peep Byunki falling as Klio. I alert Bob, who has an extra ten seconds in his swap countdown to change his tank. He’s sticking with Carrigan. Smart choice.

  Bob gives us the order to stay close and hunt the payload as a group. Getting our mark will stake our claim and put us in a good spot to defend it; our second priority is to get first blood on Fury to start our team Special Attack countdowns. Penelope sticks with me on Bob’s left flank—she’s playing Castor, a magic healer who gets a bonus when she heals other magic characters like Pharaoh. Jake has Pythia, of course, and is moving on Bob’s right with Ki as Doctor Jack, her usual ice healer. She’s better with Jack than she would have been with another DPS, so it shouldn’t be a huge deal that Bob stole her swap.

  These first few seconds in a five-on-five match are crucial. They play more like a stealth game than a team-based shooter. It’s hunt and hide, stun and run, just to get enough info on the map and our opponents’ characters to kick the rest of our strategy into high gear. Bob’s long-legged mech jogs through the city’s streets and alleys with the rest of us in formation around him, eyes peeled for the first sign of Fury action or the payload’s treasure chest chime.

  Ki spots the flash first, a high trail of sparks that indicates a Fury player up ahead. Bob calls Penelope and me up in front of him with Jake behind us to heal if Fury tries to get a shot in. We’re almost at the red brick plaza in the center of the map, and from the placement of those sparks, I’m guessing Fury is waiting for us.

  “Prime a shot; they don’t know we’re coming from this angle,” Bob whispers, even though he doesn’t really have to. I get Pharaoh’s bow up with a normal bolt on load. I’ll need blood to charge up his better attacks, but a bolt will start our timer just the same.

  P and I launch ourselves into the plaza, laying down fire to discourage Fury from ambushing us, and quickly realize we shouldn’t have bothered. Fury’s here all right, but they’re not coming toward us in a charge. They’re just standing there on the far end of the plaza, waiting as a gust of alien wind kicks up a swirl of brown dust between our teams. Ivan’s on Jubilee, no surprise there. He must have
gotten comfortable being a monster. Han is Glace, his typical ice healer, and, wait, why didn’t they swap Erik’s Jenkins for a better character? As a mech, he won’t have any advantage against Bob, but mechanical characters have an advantage against magic. Does Byunki want to send a healer to do a DPS’s job and have him take me and Penelope out?

  I only have a second to wrap my head around that choice when Muddy and Byunki step out from behind their front line. Muddy’s playing Nero, which I’ve never seen him do before. And Byunki—no, that’s impossible. I saw him beaming down as Klio. I told Bob to pick his character because he was sticking with Klio. He’s not Klio today, though; he’s Lucafont.

  Jake puts it together before I do. In the moments we have before all hell breaks loose, he spits his realization into the mic.

  “They didn’t base their comp around taking Bob out. They based it around drawing me and Em out.”

  Lucafont the ghost is weak to Pharaoh. Nero the alien is weak to Pythia and strong against Carrigan. They’ve completely tailored their lineup to piss off me and Jake while giving Muddy the best shot at killing Bob.

  “It’s bait,” Ki growls. She and Bob start speaking over each other but fall in unison to deliver the new imperative: “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Byunki must have given Team Fury his signal, because the plaza explodes in a flurry of first-move action. Erik levels his dual pistols at me and takes a shot, which Ki deflects with an ice shield. Muddy and Byunki zoom across the plaza to engage Bob and Jake in melee, and the match is officially on. Half a second later, Byunki lands a sword hit on Bob. Fury has first blood. There’s still time to make up for it.

  “VANE’s running! KNOX, follow. Payload is priority,” Bob commands as he parries Byunki’s first attack. Ivan’s hunting the payload, and Bob wants me to sneak around him and get there first if I can. I drop a fog cloud to mask where I’m going and scurry after him with Penelope on my tail for heals.