I'm giving myself one night. One ride. One mental breakdown over a cliff, screaming at nothing like a fucking crazy person. But as soon as I get back on that bike, I'll put the smile back on and toss out the jokes like nothing's wrong. Back to the regularly scheduled Luca, because I need to bestrong.For her.The thought of her shifts something in my chest. She’s hurting and she doesn’t need me losing it.
I glance back at my bike, still sitting exactly where I left it. Then back toward the city, how easy it would be to hop on my bike and just let the road take me wherever. To leave this life behind. But I can’t leave her. She keeps me tethered, the one bright spot in all of this. Whatever version of happy I ever manage to feel, she's the reason.
I shake my head and make my way back, shoving my helmet back on. I slide the jacket on and zip it up with a forceful tug, sealing myself in leather.
The engine roars back to life, loud enough to drown everything out again. One last look and I turn away. Not gone. Just buried. For now.
Noah
The room isdark except for the glow of my monitors. My headset sits crooked over one ear. I move my mouse, clicking around the screen, fingers poised and ready on my keyboard. I’ve never lost so many rounds in a row before. I can hear his voice in my head, telling me sunshine would do me good, that his reflexes were always better than mine because he went outside once in a while.
Tex.I shake my head.
“Come on… get it together,” I mutter under my breath, leaning forward slightly as my character enters the mid lane. My jungler engages, starting a fight and I join in without hesitation but it’s no use. Dead.Again.
Footsteps echo faintly in the hall outside, but I don’t look away. Timing is everything, especially when you’re watching the respawn timer to be revived.
The door creaks open.
“Wow,” an unimpressed voice says. It’s entirely too loud for the concentration I’m attempting to maintain.
I exhale slowly through my nose. Maeve. I groan as my character dies inthe next fight. I spin around to look at her as I wait for the respawn timer. She doesn’t wait for an invitation, scanning the room.
“Don’t touch anything,” I say flatly, I turn back to my screen as my character loads back in base.
“I wasn’t going to,” she mutters, though she’s pulling her hand back.
I move back down my lane, pushing the tower. For a second, I start to feel confident, like I could win this round for the team. Then I make the wrong call and have to back down. I sigh in frustration and rub my hands over my knees, like sweat is what’s causing this. I know better, I just wish I didn’t. I can’t get the sound of that shot out of my head.
“What’s this?” She bends down beside me, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“A game.”
“Well, duh.” She scoffs.
I tilt my chin towards the screen. “Less talking, more watching. It’s distracting.”
She watches in silence as I regain my footing and take the tower, then move to the second one. But the other team’s jungler ganks me.
We engage in a fight. I’m pressing through my abilities as fast as possible. I breathe a sigh of relief as I barely escape with only two hit points left. I move into a bush and start to go back to my base. Finally, I’m getting my concentration back. Having a spectator hones the skills, at least marginally.
I move my hands above my head, stretching. Maeve clicks my mouse, stopping the animation and attacking a pack of wolves.
I die.
Maeve winces. “Oops.”
I turn my head slowly, keeping my expression blank. “Youkilledme.”
“I didn’t kill you,” she says defensively. “Thewolvesdid.”
“You assisted.”
She snorts, completely unbothered, then drops into the chair across from me. “You’ll recover.”
“Not for like five minutes,” I grumble, sitting back in my own chair.
“What are you doing here, anyway? How did you get in here?”
