Page 1 of Caught A Vibe

Chapter1

Penny

Any warrior knows the power in arming for battle, so I take my time with it. I adjust my red wig, carefully hiding any hint of my real hair, before smoothing on a bold red lip stain. Another layer of powdered armor for good measure ensures I won’t be shiny for any photos or videos. In the age of cell phones and social media, there is always someone waiting to catch me off my game. Fuck the haters who try to make me feel bad for what I do. This work is important. I’m spreading love and joy to everyone. I’m practically Santa Claus, if Santa delivered orgasms.

By next year, this merry elf will be able to ship worldwide!

Tugging on the strapless bra I will regret by the end of the night, I encourage it to fight the good fight against gravity and keep my girls contained until I’m ready to set them free. Someone should really design a better strapless bra that won’t try to run for my knees at the slightest encouragement. Someone who isn’t already so busy. Someone who is not me. I write the idea in my planner anyway, before I set it aside. Today, I am laser-focused on my goal.

I pull the strapless body-con dress over my hips and up to my chest, carefully arranging the girls for maximum security. Straightening my hemline so it lies smooth against my thighs, I practice my lines with my reflection in the hotel mirror.

“I bet I can change your sex life forever.”

“Five minutes to blow your mind.”

“Best orgasms ever, I swear. Care for a demonstration?”

Nerves and excitement cycle through my body until I am tingling with anticipation.Today, I’ll share this secret part of myself with everyone, and they will love it. I will get the respect and acclaim I deserve.

It’s going to be epic.

My mental pep talk fails to calm the hornets in my stomach, so I run down my supply checklist for the day: cell phone, bump charger, wallet, repair makeup, granola bar, water bottle, extra underwear, day planner, promotional flyers and business cards.

There is something missing… Right! The lube!

Touching every item in its assigned place calms me and my chaotic thoughts. I am prepared. I can do this. Loading extra branded lube packets into my purse, I step into my killer heels on the first day of the rest of my career, ready to slay.

DASH

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter as I show my badge at the entrance to the convention hall at the Grands Hotel. Smart home devices and wearables might be video game adjacent, but health devices? I’m just a lowly freelance writer for the gaming team at XPTech magazine. What the fuck do I know about the best step counters? I don’t need another watch to yell at me to stand up more. I review video games. I sit for a living.

But the T-Con Tech Expo is the largest showcase of the year in the technology industry, in no small part due to it being hosted in Las Vegas in late January.

We all pull double or triple duty to cover the most buzzed-about devices and programming before the conference ends. Instead of getting to geek out in the gaming hall, I am literally miles away, in a sea of distraction, begging these articles to write themselves. I have ten booths to hit today, and my brain is not cooperating.

I put in my noise-canceling earbuds and look at the map, plotting my route for maximum efficiency, as if this will somehow keep me on track. Las Vegas is the absolute worst town for my ADHD on a good day. Add in all of the distractions of a technology trade show, and I’m doomed.

Diagnosed in middle school, I struggled to learn strategies to help me focus, but I’ve found a few that help keep me on track. Because my parents were in denial, I didn’t try meds until I was grown. The side effects weren’t worth the gains, so I’ve doubled down on systems and lists to get my work done, whether it’s designing video games or writing about them.

Once upon a time, I dreamed of presenting my own game here on the biggest tech stage of the year. That dream imploded spectacularly, and I turned my job writing for my college newspaper into a freelance gig writing about other game developers’ work instead. At least I get to keep my toe in the industry I love, even if I can’t actually swim in that pool.

You could still be a game designer if you’d just played by the rules and tried harder. Instead you walked away from a dream job.

The voice in my head sounds remarkably like my father. Is this what they mean by gone but not forgotten? I shake my head and turn on my music to drown out my tangled emotions. This may not be my dream job, but it’s a good one. And if I hustle just a little bit longer, I might get hired on full-time.

So what if I got the shittiest assignments at the con? I’ll show them I can handle whatever they throw my way.I bounce on my toes, getting amped up for the day.Stay focused and get through the list. Easier said than done when half of this list is going to bore me to tears, but I can do this.

I round the corner to the first booth. Taking it in, the simple, clean design soothes my tired eyes. Cream curtains enclose the space, and two devices sit on elevated pedestals at the front of the booth. Simple, minimal, interesting. I check my list again, but there is no information. Just the name. MiO.

A woman at the back of the booth is deep in conversation with another woman wearing a press badge. She looks like the only person manning the display, so I settle in to explore on my own until she’s free.

My fingers get curious, and I pick up the device. It’s larger than a typical joystick. Is this some kind of accessibility modification? The large, round base sits heavy in my hand, and the buttons press against my palm. Why are they hidden underneath, instead of on top like other controllers?

I smooth my other hand up the wide handle. It reminds me of the old-school Atari controllers, redesigned with a curved, modern aesthetic. The light gray silicone exterior warms pleasantly against my skin, but the color choice is weird. It’ll show a lot of wear and tear. One game session with Cheetos and this thing would be a mess. Maybe this was just the prototype. It would be cool to have other color options, maybe even to match favored avatars. I’d ask about it if the woman in charge would come this way.

I remove an earbud to signal I’m ready to listen. The ambient noise floods my head, and I take a deep breath and try to focus on the device in my hand.

I explore the top of the knob with my thumb, searching for the trigger button, but I find it with my index finger on the underside of the joystick. Interesting. I flick my finger back and forth over what feels like a marble underneath the silicone coating. Intriguing. Pulling the stick back, I discover an impressive range of motion—forward, lateral, and a 360-degree swivel. Fascinating.

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