Page 122 of The Counterfeit Lover

To everyone's dismay, he'd managed to get into college even with his special classes and unfortunate diagnosis. Though he kept his act up at all times, this was one thing he'd made some allowances for, mainly because heneededto escape his house.

For a while he'd been floundering, his mental health plunging into dangerous territory as he tried to keep up his act. He'd been suppressing his own self for far too long, and the effects were evident. He was having a hard time finding enjoyment in anything in his life, more often than not preferring to sit in his room, sleep, eat and play video games. He knew it wasn't a proper life, but it was his escape.

Theonlyway he could find a semblance of normality was when he pretended to be yet another person in a video game. How fucked up was that?

In those games he could finally use his brain to the fullest, without downplaying his capacities or his affinity with planning.

He'd started with real time strategy games, where he would take control of a faction or an empire and see it thrive, usually going against an enemy force. It was the one area he could apply the knowledge he'd acquired while working with his father—the only time he'd enjoyed the mob business. He loved having control over everything and he'd become specialized in one of the popular games, earning his username a place on the homepage's hall of glory.

But he'd soon moved on from that when it wasn't stimulating him anymore, going for games that incorporated strategy with role playing. Due to his thirst ofbeingsomeone, he'd managed to get himself noticed by several channels that were hosting professional games, and by the time he turned eighteen, he was already participating in small, localized competitions.

It had all changed the year before, when he'd been extended an offer to play for a bigger company. Of course, all of that involved a lot of time that he could not afford if he was at home, with his mother smothering him and following his every step.

That had been his main incentive to move to his college dorm, pursuing his studies while enjoying his rapidly advancing gaming career. While it wasn't something he saw himself doing in the long run, for the moment it was enough to keep him from actively going insane.

For his studies he'd chosen a relatively safe field—earth science and geology. All in an attempt to put on a front for everyone around him and further hide himself.

But now he wasn't justretarded Raf. He wasretarded Rafwho talked to stones—a moniker he'd earned curtesy of his brother.

Finishing his assignment in record time, he glanced at the clock. He had the rest of the night to relax. His earliest class the next day was in the afternoon, so he could sleep in.

Now that he'd joined the bigger gaming leagues, his focus had shifted. The moment the activity had turned into a responsibility, his enjoyment of it had flown right out of the window—or, at least, it had diminished considerably.

That didn't mean he could stop. Not when he was earning money for his playtime, which meant he could one day become independent from his family. He'd put aside every penny, dreaming of the day he could just take off.

That was his ultimate goal.

He would play, earn some money on the side until he had enough so he could leave and never look back—finally find himself. From the moment he'd seen the potential of monetizing his skills, he'd decided he could finally take control of his life in a way that wouldn't influence anyone else—in a way that wouldn't inconvenience his brother.

He'd promised Michele everything, and he was going to give it to him. In all these years, that resolve had not weakened.

What had, however, changed had been his outlook on life.

More than ever, he felt himself drifting.

He'd never had something he particularly loved, or somewhere he belonged. He'd always moved with the wind, too focused on pleasing everyone around himbuthimself.

That was going to change. He was going to put himself first.

After he finished his degree, he would leave. He already had a pretty sum of money saved up, and it would only increase in the next two years until his graduation.

Turning on his gaming computer, he logged into his game of choice—one he used strictly for relaxation purposes. It was a simple RPG that mimicked real life but against a fantastical backdrop. The goal was to make connections and alliances and complete challenges.

And if he were honest to himself, it wasn't thegamethat helped him relax. It was the friends he'd made on the other side of the screen. People who had no idea who he was or the burdens he carried—people who only knew him as his avatar,bluebird15.

"You're late," a digitized voice noted the moment he entered the chat.

"I had to finish my assignment," he excused himself. "The others aren't online, either," he pointed out.

There were four people in their group chat, but aside from him only another one was currently online—curiouscat26.

Out of everyone, his relationship with curiouscat26 was the most tense, as they often bickered about everything, from the choice of clothing of their avatars, to their interactions with other teams in the game. Somehow, they wereneveron the same page.

At times, he was sureCuriouscatwas doing things on purpose just to get a rise out of him. Tiger and Ginny usually served as a buffer between the two of them. And now that they were the only ones present on the server, he could bet mayhem would be unleashed.

He almost groaned out loud.

Still, these were the few times in his day when he could be himself—speak like himself. He'd become so used with his stutter that now normal words posed a challenge for him, and he sometimes slipped into his role without even realizing.

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