Page 3 of Now Streaming

She was naked.

Straddling what appeared to be a naked man, his face conveniently hidden in the shot, leaving only her with her distinctive wig and her very, very naked body to be easily recognized. They were clearly engaged in a sex act, or at least were about to, and when the next shot showed her on her knees in front of the man, the man whose face was still somehow unidentifiable, Min could see a familiar couch, a familiar room, familiar surroundings that she knew belonged to her asshat of an ex-boyfriend.

Alex.

Alex had asked her several times if he could take intimate pictures of her, just for himself, and had even asked to make a video a few times, promising it was for his eyes only. Min had honestly been intrigued by the idea but had ultimately said no every time, too worried about what might happen if his phone was hacked, or if someone had somehow found the recordings.

Which meant these pictures of her, naked and on top of him, or naked on her knees in front of him, weren’t anything she had consented to. Hell, she hadn’t even been aware he had set up a camera, but he obviously had. Now either someone had hacked him, or he was taking the breakup harder than she thought he would. And though she still had to get the whole story from him, her gut was screaming at her that he had done this on purpose.

They hadn’t ended on the best of terms. They were both streamers and had met in a gaming lobby where they had hit it off immediately. Alex had been charming at first, a seemingly nice guy who wanted nothing more than to play video games and hang out with friends. But after only a few months of dating, Min had started to feel like they weren’t really connecting, that he saw her more as a status symbol than a girlfriend. So she had ended it after six months together. He hadn’t been happy, had kept texting her and calling, trying to convince her to give him a second chance, but she’d ignored him. After only a few days apart, Min quickly realized she didn’t miss him in her life. They were better off apart, especially when she learned that he had been hooking up with some fans while they were together. After she heard that, Min blocked his number on her phone and never looked back.

But now there were naked photos of them together on the internet. Photos she hadn’t even known existed.

A quick glance at the chat showed the comments were streaming in, some warning her, some sympathetic. But there were others, the trolls that always lived somewhere on the internet, that had found her public stream and were calling her names.

Whore. Slut. Cheap. Trash.

Min couldn’t breathe, could feel the walls closing in around her. Pictures like this were literally her worst nightmare. She worked hard to keep her private life private, to make sure she could have her normal life outside of her streaming world. It was why she always made sure to dress up in her FlameThrower persona before she streamed. She didn’t want any photos of her real self out there connected with her job. Min was protective of her family, her retired mother and younger sister, who were her biggest fans. She had always made it a goal to never drag them into the craziness that was the internet. She wanted to keep them separate from that.

And while she was technically still wearing her FlameThrower wig in the photos, she still felt sick, violated. Her naked body was now out for any scum on the internet to ogle, to judge. A rise of emotions rose into her throat, leaving her choking with outrage and vulnerability. And anger.

So much anger.

“Fuck.”

CHAPTER1

HAYDEN

“Obviously, this is an incredible opportunity. Both for you, and for our company.”

Hayden sat back, trying to look cool and detached but not able to stop his fingers from drumming the armrest of the chair he was sitting on. He hated meetings, hated conference rooms, hated meeting with new people. If it were up to Hayden, every business dealing would happen over the phone or email, with him staying in the safety of his home. But this offer had seemed like a good one in the email, and the money they were offering would go a long way to help him with his long-term goals. So, even though he felt out of place wearing his zip-up hoodie and old jeans in this conference room that screamed money and privilege, he sucked it up and took the meeting.

After making the two men in the room sign several NDAs.

Hayden took a deep breath, trying to keep his anxiety under wraps as the businessmen across from him gave their sales pitch. One of the suits, the less sleazy one, Brad, leaned forward, giving what looked to be a sincere sales pitch.

“Bleeding Sword is still rising in popularity, and we’d like to keep it that way. Which is why the company is planning a huge tournament at Kickoff this spring. Massive publicity and marketing campaign, several prizes and swag, panels every day of the convention. We’re reaching out to several popular streamers to have them participate, using the tournament as a way to roll out our most expansive map yet. Having DeathsHead participate would be a huge get for us. Your number of subscribers alone is in the millions. If even half of your followers watch, Bleeding Sword and this tournament will be a huge success.”

Hayden let his eyes fall to Brad’s tie, which probably cost more than Hayden’s entire outfit, as he took a moment to think about it. Every year, Kimball, California, held the Kimball International Convention of Fans, aka Kickoff, a huge event and one of the most attended conventions in the world. Every year the otherwise sleepy city would be flooded with people, all wanting to immerse themselves in the media they love, attend panels, meet up with friends, and purchase exclusive merchandise. Kickoff was a highly anticipated event, with the revenue from the convention funding the town for the whole year. Hayden knew streamers everywhere would be flying in to participate, to speak on panels, to sell their own merchandise and set up their own streams. If people only had the chance to go to one convention each year, they went to Kickoff. It was the biggest and the best.

Hayden had been several years, but never as his streaming persona. At heart, Hayden was a fan, and so he loved going to panels, walking the exhibition floor, and losing himself in the crowd of people who loved content as much as he did. But since he had started his streaming channel, conventions had become harder and harder for him to attend. For one, his voice was too recognizable, so he had to be careful when and where he spoke aloud. His anxiety would spike in crowds, worried he’d let a stray comment slip and suddenly have heads turning toward him. And for another, being around that many people started to wear on him, causing an exhaustion that often took him a week to recover from. The convention was fun, but slowly it was becoming something to endure rather than something to enjoy. And he hated that.

But this was a new situation, one that seemed too good to be true. Bleeding Sword was offering to pay for his travel and hotel, as well as a stipend, in return for him participating in a tournament filled with other well-known streamers. The tournament would be a mixture of pros and rookies coming to try the game for the first time live. The game itself was one that Hayden enjoyed, and many of the participants they had already recruited were online friends of his. For anyone else, this was a no-brainer.

The problem, as always, was him.

Hayden didn’t like attention. In the current digital age where influencers were everywhere trying to climb the ladder of success, trying to become a household name by competing to get famous, Hayden valued his privacy above everything else. His online persona, DeathsHead, was created with the mantra that he could be himself and play games online, but still keep himself real. The only part of himself he shared on his streams, besides his love of games, was his voice. And while in hindsight he probably should’ve set up a system to disguise his distinct voice, he couldn’t deny that it was part of what his fans loved about him. So he let that part of him out onto the internet, while he constantly wondered if even that much was a mistake.

Hayden’s very real anxiety was mostly under control, but it could spike with the right trigger. He was always worried someone would hear him order coffee and immediately know who he is. One picture on the internet and he would become fodder for all kinds of garbage, from people criticizing his looks to stalkers, and probably worse. Hayden had known that starting out, and now that he had a fan following, he knew it would be even worse if he revealed his face. People had now had time to build up in their minds what he could look like, which meant no matter what, a face reveal would disappoint and anger everyone who followed him. Hayden couldn’t handle that, so he did everything he could to keep his identity secret. He wore a mask and concealing clothes if he ever appeared in public. He never showed himself while streaming. And he never, ever, met his fellow streamers in person. He knew from bitter experience how quickly those friendships can turn on you for likes and follows. And he was determined not to be clickbait for someone else.

He surveyed the two men in front of him. Hayden was definitely interested in the tournament, in the possibility of winning the prize money and the sponsorship that would move his secret dream further into reality. But he needed assurances first. A lot of them. “How do you plan on handling my need for privacy?”

Brad leaned forward, clearly having anticipated this question. “We’re willing to work with your comfort level. Obviously the tournament has to be fair, but we can provide a separate entrance to the convention center for tournament times, a private room set up to stream with your own specifications. We can throw in whatever security you feel is needed, and we’re willing to work with you on anything else you need. To be completely upfront, we’re offering this to all of our high-profile streamers, but we’re invested in including you on our tournament roster.”

Hayden drummed his fingers more as he turned to look out the window. The building was one of the pretentious ones on Wilshire that towered high enough to have a view of the Hollywood Hills over the never-ending brake lights that was Los Angeles traffic. If he wanted to have less than an hour’s drive home, he’d have to make up his mind soon. But there was something keeping him undecided. His instincts were yelling at him, but he wasn’t sure why. In the past he would turn something like this down fast, the chances of getting recognized too great. But the money was good, even better if Hayden won the tournament. It was hard to turn that down.

The other man with Brad cleared his throat, and Hayden turned to him. He didn’t like this one. Something about the look in his eyes reminded Hayden of sharks. Always swimming forward, never looking back at the destruction they caused.

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