I let out a sigh of relief, pushing away from my desk and letting my chair roll me away from the screen. I failed that mission twice last night while streaming, and it sucked. Granted, it was my first time playing the new Death Valley 5 DLC, but still.
I wasn’t the best because I failed, I was the best because I won.
Sometimes, I feel like the creative directors of Death Valley watch my channels to try to find ways to make new missions that specifically cater to my weaknesses. Patience in video games is one of said weaknesses.
It’s been a week and the drama from the VSAs has finally died down. Sure, I had to play nice and make sure I was participating in more group streams than normal instead of just doing my own thing, but I could play nice for Sydney if it kept everyone safe and happy.
Plus, I had the sweet, sweet memories of a feisty brunette to keep me company during my social isolation. Company in my mind, in my shower, in my bed. Fuck, just thinking of her gets me heated again. Maybe I should go out with the guys this weekend. Get a little relief from something other than my own hand.
My phone begins to buzz, and I swipe to answer the incoming call.
“What’s up, loser?”
“Nice to talk to you, too, asshole.” Jackson’s voice comes through a little far off. He must be calling me from his car speaker. “You’re not practicing right now, are you?”
“Nah, I just finished. I’m taking a break before tonight’s stream. Why?”
“Devil Nun 5 just came out.”
Fucking Devil Nun. I should’ve known it was that time of the year. Jackson is obsessed with the franchise. I have seen every single installment, and I have hated every single one.
“Ask your sister.”
“She’s thirteen. I’m not bringing a thirteen-year-old to Devil Nun 5. Plus, it’s our tradition.”
Tradition my ass. He has been dragging me to every single Devil Nun movie since we were in high school because no one else in their right mind wants to watch a series about a freaking devil nun. There’s even a video game series for it on PlayStation, and Jackson owns a signed limited-edition copy. As his resident best friend, I’ve gotten suckered into being his movie buddy. I forced Parker to go with us to the premiere of Devil Nun 4, but he literally ran out of the theatre in the first thirty minutes and drove home without us out of spite. We had to call Francis to give us a ride to the apartment at three in the morning. The whole ordeal was a nightmare.
“I’ll buy you ice cream afterward. Come on, Aleks.”
Why do all my friends try to bribe me with food?
“I can buy my own ice cream.”
“Yes, but the theatre is next to that place that does the brownie batter one you like.”
My stomach rumbles. Crap, I haven’t eaten anything for hours. Gaming brain.
“Fine, but I also want chocolate pretzels for the movie.” I reluctantly push out of the comfort of my gaming chair. I head into my bedroom and sift through the pile of jackets haphazardly thrown in the corner before tugging on my leather jacket.
“You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll see you there in thirty. The movie starts at three.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you there.”
I hang up the call before shoving my phone, wallet, headphones, and bike keys into my pocket. I slip into a pair of combat boots and grab my bike helmet from the hallway before taking the elevator down to the garage.
I fucking love the private garage. The apartment building has a larger one on the floor above that is for the other residents in the building, but this one is just ours. Parker has five cars down here and three bikes, including a gorgeous Aprilia that I’ve been dying to get my hands on. I’m a little more reasonable with just one car and three bikes. Although Jackson says we are both ridiculous. He just has his one Jeep, which isn’t even down here right now.
I run my hand over my Kawasaki Ninja H2 with a smile. It’s the most recent bike I’ve purchased, and it’s a beast on the road.
My grandfather used to ride motorcycles, and my grandmother held onto his favorite bike after he passed. When I was fifteen, I got it into my head to refurbish it. I was a bored kid with no friends and just video games to pass the time. The bike intrigued me. It was a fucking messy experience and took way longer than it should have. But I was proud as hell after the year of hard work. My grandmother was reluctant to let me get my license, but I was a sixteen-year-old kid who spent ninety percent of his free time playing games in his bedroom, so she saw it as a way for me to get fresh air. My eyes slip to the bike. A Triumph TR6. It’s a classic. I still ride it occasionally, but it’s been hard ever since my grandmother passed. Losing her was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced even though I knew it was coming. The cancer was something no one could stop.
My chest drops at the memories, and I quickly put in my wireless headphones, turning on my indie rock playlist to shake my body out of the somber waters that are beginning to churn. I tug on my helmet and swing onto my bike. I turn on the engine and the resounding rumble courses through my body, centering me. When I’m on my bike, everything makes sense.
I rev the engine one more time before kicking my leg up and ripping up the garage levels until I break into the sunlight. The heat beats through my leather jacket instantly, but the breeze quickly whips around me as I gain speed on the open road. My heart lightens with each mile, and I feel myself smiling even though I’m about to spend the next few hours in pure torture.
***
“That was a solid eight out of ten. Not as good as Devil Nun 3 but definitely better than Devil Nun 4.” Jackson is all amped up as we exit the theatre.
The movie was awful. As it always is. I have no idea how they are still making movies. The whole franchise follows nuns in different parts of the world becoming possessed by the devil and then wreaking havoc until some group of people comes in to stop them. It’s quite literally same shit, different country. How each movie lasts almost three hours is beyond me.
I loop my arm around Jackson’s shoulders as I wheel him in the direction of the ice cream shop next door.
“Yes, yes. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now you owe me an entire tub of brownie batter.”
The bell above the door chimes as we enter the shop. The AC is so strong inside that it gives me the chills. The store is empty save for the two employees who are chatting in the corner.
“I never said I’d buy you an entire tub.”
“You never said you wouldn’t either.” I grin at him.
Jackson gives me a side-eye expression, mouth flat. He shakes me off his shoulder and walks up to the counter.
“Two pints please. One brownie batter and one vanilla bean.”
I scowl at Jackson as I shift my helmet, which I’ve been carrying under my left arm, and place it on the counter next to him. One of the employees moves to begin packing a container while the other rings him up.
“A quart is only two dollars more.” I challenge him. I don’t really care about getting more ice cream. He already bought me three bags of chocolate pretzels for the movie. One for each hour. I just enjoy annoying him.
He hands his card over to the employee while looking me dead in the eye. “You’ll survive.”
Killjoy.
My phone goes off, and I pull it out to see a reminder from Sydney that my stream starts in a little over an hour. We’re only twenty minutes from home. Less for me technically since I rode here on my bike and can weave through the traffic. It leaves us plenty of time.