Page 151 of Fake Game

I believed too much in myself and am falling short. My sanity is splitting at the seams, and I’m just trying to prevent the frays from completely unraveling. I should never have agreed to this, but I was so worried that his parents would judge me for not showing up, that they’d think I was unreliable and not good enough for him. I just wanted them to approve of us as a couple.

Gods.

I want to bury my face in my hands and slump against the table. My mental battery is reaching a critical low.

“Sorry, but I really need to take this.”

I glance up as Jackson quickly dips from the table, phone in hand.

All those nerves dancing across my skin suddenly pause, and the hairs on my arm stand on high alert as I keep my gaze locked on him.

Something’s wrong.

I can tell by the way he’s tensed up, and it doesn’t help that his eyes keep flicking over to me.

“I’m sure everything is fine, honey.”

I smile at Jackson’s mom, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes.

“Yeah, it’s just…do you mind if I check my phone for a moment?”

“Not at all,” she waves me off.

“Thanks.” I reach under the table and pluck my purse off the bag hook. The second my hands touch the soft leather I feel the vibrations. My fingers quickly unclasp the gold Dior closure, and I pull out my phone, which is buzzing with such ferocity that the damn thing feels like it’s a million degrees.

A premonition of sickening dread crashes over me as I swipe it open.

“Deer, wait.” Jackson’s hand lands on my shoulder as he snags the phone from my hands, but it’s too late.

The news alert sears itself into my eyes.

BREAKING: POPULAR VIDEO GAME STREAMER “THECOZYDEAR” DOXED ON MAJOR SOCIAL PLATFORM.

My entire body is dunked in an ice bath, and frost works its way through my bloodstream, freezing me in my tracks.

What.

The restaurant chatter that’s been steadily streaming around us turns into a cacophony, beating against my ears and drowning everything out.

No. I must’ve read it wrong.

“I’m sorry but there’s been an emergency, and we have to leave.” Jackson announces to the table as he pulls me up, arm around my waist to support my failing body. “I already paid the bill, but—shit, we really need to go.”

I follow his eyeline to the bodyguard who stands at the door to our private room.

“Mr. Lau, we have to go out back. Reporters are beginning to gather out front.”

“All right.”

Reporters? Already?

How did they even know I was here? Are they tracking me?

I barely process the restaurant as we move through it, past the dining patrons and behind the kitchen.

Everything’s too much. The lights are too bright. The noise is too loud. The air feels too hot.

My head swims and the little food I just ate churns in my stomach. I’m trying to keep it together, I really am. But I’m suffocating.

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