Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I wish I did. He’s something to see in person. He’s incredible,” Chad answered, closing his gallery, putting those thoughts away. “How long until The Game Awards?”
“I leave next week, but I’m in over my head. The Riot Games’ PR team is going to start working with me tomorrow. I don’t know what I was thinking when I accepted their offer.” Ducky’s stress and anxiety spoke louder than the words he said.
He was a few years older than Ducky. When they were younger, he got why they didn’t hang out outside of gaming. They lived thirty minutes away from one another, might as well have been another state away at that age. Now though, it didn’t make much sense except Ducky had never opened that door. He was a true loner, lived life on his terms. Ducky’s existence was no different now than it was when he had little more than the clothes on his back.
“You know what you were thinking. It’s a dream come true for guys like us. It’d be fire if they asked me to present. If you see Fudge from Cloud 9, I want his autograph. Don’t forget.” Chad wasn’t lying in the least. He’d hang that autograph in his condo for the world to see.
“Go back to whatever you were doing. I wanted to see if you could get on and play a game,” Ducky said.
“Everybody in the bar’s trashed. I’m not drinking. I’ll practice in the morning while they’re passed out. Tristan’s wanting a letter of acceptance signed before I leave. We’ll do something extra when Kai signs the official contract in a few weeks. Maybe I can be out of here by early evening tomorrow.” A long yawn slipped free.
He wasn’t willing to let Ducky end the call. He lived for these unguarded conversations. They were more infrequent these days, but Ducky always eased Chad’s worry. Made life a little less stressful. Maybe it was the deep tenor of Ducky’s voice or the way he truly seemed to care about Chad’s wellbeing. Who was he kidding? Apparently, himself. Boyhood crushes had metamorphosed into adult crushes, he supposed.
“I can talk unless you want to get off and find someone else to play with.”
“I’m good. I just finished dinner and reclined back in my chair. What’s it look like there tonight?”
Chad lifted his phone and took a picture. It did little to show the magnitude of beauty surrounding him. Instead of sending the dark picture, he described what he saw. “It’s ocean for as far as I can see. Where I’m at right now, the water is calm, not the epic waves south of here…” He lost himself in the explanation of the beauty of his surroundings.
The tension drained off him as the healing balm of the night sky, the back-and-forth cadence of the waves, and the connection with his good friend—his best friend—lulled him into a peaceful conversation. One that lasted hours. So long that he missed the closing of the bar and found himself walking back to the motel, the phone still glued to his ear.
.
CHAPTER 4
Two weeks later
The hustle and bustle of hurried personnel and gamer celebrities, all talking a mile a minute into their headsets and to their entourages, was just about all Ducky could concentrate on as a full-blown panic attack threatened to take him under. His racing heartbeat and the feeling of losing his breath came on way too quickly to control. If he didn’t calm down, he was certain to pass smooth out.
“Breathe,” Greer hissed directly into Ducky’s face, gripping both of Ducky’s shoulders, driving him into a darkened corner backstage at The Game Awards show.
“You need to go out there and do this for me,” he practically begged Greer. Ducky bent forward, tucking his head as far between his legs as the tight pants would allow, wishing he’d had the forethought to bring a brown paper bag. Why hadn’t Dallas thought of that?
He slowly closed his eyes, praying he didn’t blackout right where he stood. Why would he have ever thought he could pull off something like this?
“Stand up. You’ll crease your jacket.” Based on the closeness of Greer’s voice when the command came, Greer had also leaned over. Ducky didn’t bother to open his eyes, nor did he do as Greer instructed. He couldn’t. All the effort he could muster was to reach for the button on his suit, work it open and let the suit coat hang free.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t do this. You go out there and represent us.” The rapid-fire words came on a long exhale. He was seriously going to throw up. He hated being social, let alone having to speak in front of an audience. The thought of so many people watching made his stomach roil. Light-colored circles played against the black backdrop of his eyelids. “I’m gonna make a fool out of StreamTrainer.”