Filed to story: Outplayed Story (Brooklyn & Ethan) Book PDF Free
‘Of course.’
‘You caught me. I am Blaze.’
Pete stared at him for what felt like ages. ‘You’re not messing around?’
Ethan shook his head. ‘As if I’d do that with you.’
‘Bloody hell, Ethan.’ Pete sank down into his chair. ‘Bloody hell.’
‘To be fair,’ Ethan said, to no one in particular, ‘most of the fan stuff comes in by email. I just blitz through it and reply in the evenings. But with SyrenQuest, some people have started writing in. Not a lot. Usually drawings done by kids and stuff. They told me to hold the things up to the light before I opened them, just in case there’s a nutter sending weird things, but it’s all been pretty harmless so far.’
Pete was staring at him, mouth slightly open. ‘But how?’
‘What do you mean, how?’ Ethan sat in his chair and, trying not to think about how it was still warm from Brook’s body heat, rolled it over to Pete. ‘The usual way. I play games at night and load them onto my channel.’
‘I thought YouTubers were full-time or something. Blaze has a huge following. How do you find the time? Do you actually have a manager?’
‘I wish,’ said Ethan. ‘No. It’s just me. There was a time when I could have gone full-time on it. That’s part of the reason I did so badly in college. YouTube was paying me quite well, so I didn’t have to try too hard to get a job, if you see what I mean. Then the algorithm changed and earnings dropped.’ He shrugged. ‘I could have doubled down or played it safe and got a regular job. In the end I did neither and started up a business.’ He grinned, weakly.
Pete was still looking at him with big eyes.
‘It’s not that big a deal,’ said Ethan.
‘It … sorta is.’
‘Seriously, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want people to know.’
‘But how is this possible?’ said Pete. ‘I mean, look at Blaze. He’s cool and confident and awesome and … no offence, but you’re you.’
‘See, this is why I don’t want people to know.’ Ethan leaned forward and clasped his hands together. ‘Please, Pete. Swear to me that you won’t tell anyone.’
‘Does anyone else know?’
‘Not many. Bradley knows. He used to play too. A few old friends from uni … that’s about it. I’ve tried very hard to keep the two lives separate.’
‘Why? Why the secrecy? If I was a famous YouTuber, I’d want everyone to know about it.’
Ethan sat back and pushed his fingers through his hair. ‘Blaze is … a persona. I can do and say things as Blaze that I really can’t do when I’m me. I like that. I get to step outside of all this.’ He waved a hand to indicate the office. ‘The work, the worrying about money, the way my brain disowns my mouth when I try to talk to a woman I like. All of that just goes away when I’m Blaze. All I have to do is hit things and run around and make wisecracks, which are weirdly easier when I’m him.’
Pete gave him a funny look. ‘Can you talk to girls when you’re Blaze?’
‘I can talk to girls,’ said Ethan, affronted. ‘It’s just when it’s someone I like that I have a problem.’
‘Why don’t you talk to Brook as Blaze? Then it would be easy.’
That was a stupid suggestion. Ethan gave him a glare that, he hoped, conveyed the depth of stupidity. ‘For a start, it would be difficult to get in and out of costume at work. Besides, what would I do? Go up to her as Blaze and say, “My mate Ethan fancies you”? Don’t be daft.’
Pete threw his hands heavenwards. ‘Oh my god, Ethan! I don’t mean like that. I mean inside.’ He mimed putting something to his ribs. ‘Put your Blaze confidence on and then go talk to her as you. Jesus.’
Ethan considered it. The thought was weird. When he was Blaze, he was a hundred per cent Blaze. He spoke differently, he walked differently. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It honestly doesn’t work like that. Nice thought though, Pete.’ He pushed with his feet so that his chair wheeled back to his computer. ‘Now, can we please forget about all of this?’
Pete opened his mouth.
‘Please,’ Ethan said again.
Pete nodded.
‘And you can’t tell anyone.’
Another nod. ‘Fine.’
‘Great. Let’s get back to work.’
For the next few minutes, there was no sound but the clicking of keys. Then Pete said, ‘Ethan?’
‘Mmm?’
‘Can I come and watch you play on Monday?’
Ethan looked up. He hadn’t had someone with him when he played for years. It might be fun. ‘Sure.’Brook opened the handbag wardrobe to take out the bag that went with tomorrow’s outfit and thought of Ethan and his insistence that she should be the face of her brand. Should she take that seriously? He had been right about her being afraid of success. Could he be right about the other things too?
Brook removed the Shanthi bag from the bag she’d used that day and put it back in its place. Instead of taking out the next day’s pick, she reached to the back of the wardrobe and pulled out a slightly grubby denim shoulder-bag. This one was not part of the collection. It was the one that Amma had kept her stuff in during those final days in hospital. The cancer she’d beaten when Brook was a toddler had returned so stealthily that by the time they found out, it was already too late.
She unzipped the bag, her nose close to it. The smell was chiefly of her mother’s perfume – Brook had sprayed it into the bag at one point, the half-empty bottle was still in the bottom of the bag – but there was also a hint of hospital. The only way to get rid of the antiseptic smell would have been to wash the bag and she still wasn’t ready to do that. With the smell came the overpowering memory of the fury and the helplessness of sitting by a hospital bed. Her heart constricted painfully. She zipped the bag shut again and shoved it back into its corner. This was not how she wanted to remember her mother. The pressure of tears hurt her eyes. She sat down on the floor and put her face in her hands, the tears dampening her fingertips.
If she used Amma’s name and image on the Shanthi Bags website, that was how she would be remembered – a woman who loved handbags. But she was so much more than that. No one was just one thing. Or even merely a collection of all the things that they loved. There was nothing that could capture Amma completely. But the handbags captured Amma for her. She could use the website to talk about her and outline something of what made her special. A public tribute to her, rather than a tribute in her heart. Brook sighed and looked up. Her brothers might understand that. Her father … might not.
He would hate everything about it. The fact that Brooklyn had left an apparently ‘stable’ job to strike out in the risky world of a start-up business. The fact that she was using her mother’s bags. The fact that she’d kept it quiet for so long. Brook stood up and brushed off her knees. She’d had no choice but to keep it quiet. Otherwise, there would have been all kinds of pressure to find a new job. Thatha was old fashioned in many ways. He had started work with one company and had stayed there. The idea of a portfolio career was alien to him. Her brothers had moved out of the country to get on with their careers. She almost wished she’d done the same.
She looked at the clothes she’d hung on the back of the door for tomorrow. Blue. Inside the Shanthi bag on the floor, her phone buzzed. She chose a handbag that matched and closed the wardrobe, before she checked her phone. It was a message from Blaze, about more shortcuts in the game.
She sat on the bed to reply. He hadn’t been his usual genial self when they played in round one and she was a little bit hurt at how gruff he’d been. She knew she deserved it, at some level, but there was no need for him to be rude. He’d known she was a rookie right from the start. She didn’t have to take that.
On the other hand, she didn’t want to antagonise him even more. Stick to the facts, she decided. They were stuck together for the next round anyway, so she would be entirely professional and not let her feelings get in the way.