Page 125 of Glitched Play

“I practically raised myself. Living on my own since first grade. I’m used to being in control so I just do the same thing here… breathe. When I’m really overwhelmed, I find Greyson and he calms me down.”

I want that.

“Plus, after being in this family for five years, chaos has become part of my daily routine. And if Witt fires you, you can come work for me.”

I choke. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen. This is my dream job.”

She has her hair pulled in a tight ponytail and looks like a million bucks. “I think you’re his dream partner… in business.”

Swallowing hard, I just try to smile. I want to be more than his right hand woman. I want to be more.

The next several hours disappear into controlled madness.

I review livestream graphics with the design team, finalize sponsor placements, approve social media countdown posts, and help the broadcast crew tweak the schedule so interviews won't overlap with player introductions. Somewhere between testing microphones and confirming the trophy lighting sequence, I realize I haven't looked at the clock in over an hour.

I love this.

Not because it's perfect.

Because it's alive.

Ideas bounce from one department to another until they're better than where they started. Problems become opportunities. Last-minute changes somehow improve things instead of breaking them.

It's messy.

Creative.

Exactly where I belong.

As I leave the production booth, my phone buzzes. Chase.

A smile tugs at my lips before I answer. "Hey."

"Hey, superstar."

"I don't know about superstar."

"Tyler said you’re in charge of Opening Day. That’s huge,” he says, completely assured that I can do it.

"I am. It’s a lot, but I’ve never been more excited for a work project than today.”

"So..." His voice carries that familiar easy confidence I've always liked. "I was thinking when all this opening weekend craziness is over..."

I already know where this is going.

"...maybe we could grab dinner."

I stop walking.

People stream around me carrying camera equipment and lighting stands, but suddenly everything feels oddly still.

"Just the two of us," he finishes.

He's kind.

Funny.

Supportive.