Page 12 of Forbidden Game

They are trying to take away my contingency plan.

I struggle to swallow. My throat is dry as a bone at the impending doom. With a steady hand, I grasp my champagne flute and take a large gulp. Grandfather polishes off his seabass and turns to whisper something to Frank.

My phone vibrates, and I discreetly slip it off the edge of the table and into the palm of my hand before swiping it open.

Hope pounds in my chest as I zero in on the small words.

SYDNEY: Just got confirmation. You’re in the bracket for the speedruns at DCS. I’ll work with Mathias on your training schedule and qualifying events. You have twelve weeks.

SYDNEY: You’re welcome. I worked my magic.

And work her magic she did.

Bloody hell.

This could be it.

DCS, the Divizion Championship Series, is an annual gaming tournament run by Divizion, one of the top video game companies worldwide. It’s not as big as the annual Gods League World Championship, but it is the largest game-diverse championship. The prize pool is three million, and last year they had twenty-five million unique viewers watching it online. It occurs every December, and on top of the esports tournaments they run, they have the largest speedrun tournament in the world.

Across three separate speedruns, you need to have the lowest collective time to win—but to even qualify for the series, I’d need to win three out of five mini tournaments held across the country beforehand. I’ve never been able to participate before because I can’t speedrun while wearing the mask.

The aim of a speedrun is to complete a game as quickly as possible, and you need to be at your sharpest in order to make sure your reflexes are quick enough to not mess up. Even a second’s worth of hesitation can cause you to lose drastically, and the visibility is pretty shit through the blue LED of my mask.

Ever since we revealed our identities, I have been begging Sydney to get me on the roster. She told me she would try, but that I shouldn’t get my hopes up because we were late in the season. Clearly, whatever strings she pulled worked.

If I win the speedrun tournament, I’ll be recognized as the best speedrunner in the States, and potentially the world.

I’ll be able to prove to my grandfather and the board that my career is successful, that I’m not just playing games.

PARKER: Ur an angel. Thank u

SYDNEY: I know.

My grandfather clears his throat, and I snap my head up to meet his quizzical stare. In my distraction, the waitress has cleared our plates, and a lone pot of tea has been left to brew on the center of the table.

“So, what shall it be, Parker?”

I grin at my grandfather as I pull up the event page for DCS and slide my phone across the table to him. He adjusts the frames of his glasses while squinting down at the screen.

“What am I looking at?”

“My counter offer.”

He raises a brow before settling back in his seat. “All right, let’s hear it,” he says, gesturing for me to go on.

I puff out my chest and lean forward. “It’s the annual gaming championship held by Divizion—who are arguably the top gaming company in the last decade. Part of their event is a speedrun tournament. The winner is recognized as one of the best speedrun players in the world, on top of a major cash prize. It’s like getting a Michelin.”

“Interesting. And you believe you can win?”

Do I?

It won’t be easy. As confident as I am in myself, I know there are gaps in my gameplay.

But I have to try.

I give a sharp nod. “Without a doubt.”

Grandfather taps his fingers rhythmically against the table while I wring mine nervously under the tablecloth.

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