“Fuck, man.”
“Forget it.” I waved my hand at him and turned back around to my computer, continuing to work on edits for the stream I needed to get uploaded. I stared at the screen, tension rising in my shoulders.
Beckett was right; this was a shit idea. I wanted to be anonymous, and no matter how it panned out, there was a huge risk trying to go to an event like this out in the open. Not just thatsomeone would figure out I was CovertRetriever, but who I was in general.
Growing up in a famous family had its benefits until you wanted to do things on your own. Especially when it was outside the scope of what you were raised in. Beckett knew this all too well, as we’d both moved away from Nashville to escape our family ties for our own endeavors. We both still had relationships with our family but wanted out of the spotlight the city gave us.
“We aren’t forgetting it.” Beckett came over and grabbed my mouse.
“Come on,” I exclaimed.
“This is clearly something you want to do, so tell me, what’s gotten into you?” Beckett asked, holding the mouse above his head. It wasn’t that I couldn’t get up to get it back, but I’d been avoiding this conversation with Beckett because I was unsure of what I wanted to do.
“I talked to my mom the other day.”
“And?” Beckett waved his hand for me to continue. I ran a hand over my face and fingers through my beard.
“They are looking to sell the café.”
“Shit.” Becket lowered the mouse, and I snatched it back. I turned back to the computer, moving through the motions to get this edit finalized.
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath, and I rendered a few portions of my stream that needed to be spliced together.
“That café has been in your family for generations. What are they going to do?”
“They want to retire.” And since my parents knew I had no ambition to take over the family café in Nashville, they needed to find different avenues to turn to. The Blackbird was home to names throughout the music industry, and the name Ryker was known all over the city.
“What you’re telling me is that this might be your shot to finally have a normal life where people don’t try to use you to get their music careers off the ground?”
“Thanks for calling me out.” I leaned back in the chair and faced him again.
Beckett was right, though.
My family’s café was the reason why I’d become an anonymous gamer. Gaming was mine and not something that was connected to them. It wasn’t something their name could touch and give influence on. People used to flood my direct messages seeking help in their careers, so after high school, I kept myself off social media as much as I could. My family had helped so many people over the years and was involved in people’s lives that, when it came to my future, I wanted to make it my own.
“You know this can be a good thing, right?”
I took another deep breath.
“I do, I just don’t know what to do if they go through with it. Do I stay anonymous? Do I let the world know who I am? Will it even matter, or have I just made this whole thing up in my head and no one actually cares?”
“Ryker.” Beckett leaned down, hands on my shoulders, and gave me a shake. “This is your life. You decided this was your future because of how those who wanted to be in the industry treated you. You can keep it as is, you can change it, but do not let your parents’ choice make that decision for you.”
“But what if it just made the decision easier?”
“Is this something you’ve been thinking about changing?” Beckett asked, concern forming on his face. It was news to him, because it was news to me.
I nodded in response.
While I had been thinking about this for a while now, not having to hide and just being myself, I had no idea how to do it.Or even a reason why I should come out and just be me. When I was gaming, it felt like I was a whole other person, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to give that up. Not just the anonymity, but the persona I’d created and felt so comfortable in.
“What if I wanted to use the ball as a test run? Just to be myself.”
Beckett perked up at this, rubbing a hand over his chin, clearly thinking.
“What if we could find a way?”
“What do you mean?” I tilted my head at Beckett’s statement. Unsure of where he was going.
