Page 8 of Fake Game

“And you’re annoying me.”

“Fine, whatever. If you don’t want help, that’s your issue. But don’t forget that we’ve dealt with this shit before.” He crosses his arms, drawing my attention to his strong biceps that are on full display with the muscle tee he has on.

Ugh. Gods. Why is he still hot when he is pissed?

“He’s right. We can help,” Lee calls out.

There’s a loud crash, and we jerk our heads to my bedroom as Lee drops one of my pink Louis Vuitton suitcases onto the floor.

“That’s custom,” I whine, pushing out of Syd’s grasp to check on my luggage. I run my hands across the leather, searching for any scratches. “What did you do that for?”

“I’m helping,” she shrugs before walking into my closet. She begins to pick pieces off the hangers and heedlessly throws them at my suitcase.

“Lee,” I grit out as a miniskirt narrowly misses my head.

“You can’t stay here. You’re coming home with me.”

“Aren’t your parents visiting soon?”

“There’s more than enough space.”

“Lee—"

“Someone knows where you live.”

A chill breaks over my skin. I don’t want to think about that. I just want to go back to ignoring it and everything else about tonight.

“I’m not imposing on your parents.”

“Well, you’re not staying here.” She places her hands on her hips.

Lee is always so carefree that I sometimes forget how stubborn she can be. We’re two sides of the same coin.

“She’s right,” Parker agrees as he comes to sit on my bed. “The security at this place is a wank.”

“Exactly. Even you’ve said before that the security here is sucky,” Lee muses as she chucks a pair of platform heels on the ground.

I press my lips together and stare at the growing mound of clothes and shoes.

I don’t want to admit defeat, that I don’t feel safe in my own apartment. Part of me thought that maybe if I just stayed here and pretended that nothing ever happened that I could remain in my little bubble of ignorance. That maybe the world isn’t as scary as it feels.

The local police have my information now; they know I’m at risk of swatting, so they won’t be as aggressive the next time it happens.Ifthere’s even a next time. Maybe this Deer Hunter person will give up now? They’ve had their laugh. They’ve traumatized me on stream, live for tens of thousands of people to see. That’s normally the goal for these people. So, what more is there?

“Look, I get the concern, but I’m going to be fine. Really.” I turn my head to stare at the big grump leaning on my doorframe. “It’s like you said, you’ve dealt with this before. It’s not that big a deal.”

“That’s not the point I was trying to make,” Jackson sighs.

“Why don’t you at least crash at one of our places tonight? Just for peace of mind. Aleks and Stevie are in New York again for the Hayes art show, so his room is free,” Sydney says, referring to the leader of The System, Aleksander Knight (knownby his gamertag NightBlade32, a.k.a. Blade), and his girlfriend, up-and-coming artist Stephanie Andwell.

I see the silent plea in her eyes, but I still don’t give in.

“I’m serious. I’m fine.” I stand up and walk out of my bedroom and to the front door, opening it. It’s a touch rude, I know, but I can’t deal with any more of their smothering. I feel like I’m in the middle of a fire and someone is choking me at the same time.

It’s making everything ten times worse.

“Fine.” Sydney huffs, grabbing Parker’s hand and leading him out of my bedroom.

Jackson has to practically pick Lee up and carry her to make her leave.

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