Gunfire rattled through Zoey's headset as bright explosions flashed on her screen. Her character sprinted through the remains of an industrial complex, weaving between broken concrete barriers while shots snapped past her from somewhere behind the collapsed buildings.
The red LIVE indicator glowed beside the camera. Next to it, chat was moving almost as quickly as the bullets.
CHAT:
LEFT LEFT LEFT
SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHICH LEFT
ZOEY BEHIND YOU
HANNAH LET HER DIE
Hannah's voice came through the call from her own streaming setup.
"Let nature take its course."
Zoey spun around a moment too late. Her character dropped to the ground, and a red elimination screen filled the game monitor.
"Okay, first of all, there were at least four different directions being communicated to me."
"There are only two possible lefts, and one of them requires facing the wrong direction."
"Exactly. Ambiguous."
"You were shot from behind."
"Which proves my point!"
Normally, that would have been enough for Zoey to slam a hand against her desk, complain about the weapon that killed her, or begin building a case for why the game had personally decided to ruin her evening.
Instead, she leaned back and waited for the respawn timer with a smile on her face.
Not the strained smile she put on when chat was trying to annoy her, or the increasingly dangerous one that appeared whenever she was losing an argument. This one had simply been there all evening, stubbornly refusing to go away.
CHAT:
why is she smiling
SHE LOST AND DIDN'T SCREAM something happened
WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO ZOEY
Zoey caught the messages racing past and immediately pressed her lips together. By the time she looked back toward the camera, she had forced her expression into something much closer to neutral.
"What? I'm behaving normally."
"That is what makes it suspicious."
"You're supposed to support me."
"I am supporting the investigation."
The investigation apparently had thousands of volunteers.
CHAT:
IS THIS ABOUT THE MODEL
SHE GOT A SECOND DATE
DID SHE WIN THE LOTTERY guys im scared
The smile disappeared.
"It is not a date!"
Chat accelerated so violently that individual messages became difficult to follow.
CHAT:
SHE SAID DATE
CLIP IT
CONFESSION SPEEDRUN
WE GOT HER
Zoey stared at the messages racing across the screen, then slowly looked toward the camera. Her mouth was still slightly open.
Oh.
"No. Stop. That was not information. That was a response to misinformation."
Nothing came through the voice call.
"Hannah!"
Several seconds passed before Hannah finally answered.
"I am allowing you time to consider what you have done."
The respawn timer ended. Zoey's character reappeared on the map, took three steps forward, and ran directly into a wall while Zoey continued reading chat.
The problem was that chat wasn't entirely wrong.
Before going live, Zoey had been on a private call with Hannah, trying to decipher Layla's response to the enormous message she'd sent the day before. Hannah had already made her opinion on that particular decision abundantly clear. Apparently, sending someone several paragraphs as a first proper text was insane.
After Zoey's extensive offer of equipment, technical help, software assistance, moderation support, and practically anything else she could think to include, Layla had replied with a single word.
Ok.
Zoey had stared at it for nearly ten minutes.
Eventually, Hannah had been forced to explain that a simple 'ok' meant Layla had accepted the offer, not that she was politely terminating all future communication with Zoey.
What followed had been considerably easier to interpret. A few practical messages. A proposed day and time. An address. Basic details about the equipment and setup.
Layla had obviously refused anything expensive or new. Zoey had only managed to get her to accept the old setup by pretending she needed to get rid of it anyway, insisting that it was taking up too much space in her house.
None of which Zoey could safely mention to thousands of viewers who treated every change in her facial expression like evidence in a conspiracy.
Gunfire burst through her headset again.
Her character collapsed.
Zoey barely reacted.
"Amazing tactical performance."
"I'm distracted."
"By nothing in particular, I presume."
Zoey turned away from the elimination screen and looked directly into the camera.
"Correct. There is absolutely nothing happening."
CHAT:
SHE HAS PLANS
HANNAH WE NEED ANSWERS
CHECK HER HEART RATE
GIRL HAS NOT LOOKED AT THE GAME IN 5 MINUTES
"You people are psychos."
"That is why we are not telling them anything."
Chat exploded.
Zoey closed her eyes.
CHAT:
WE?????
NOT TELLING US WHAT
HANNA CONFIRMED THERE IS A SECRET
FRIENDLY FIRE
Zoey opened her eyes again.
"Excellent work, Hannah."
"You're the one who kept smiling like an advertisement for a Scientology church."
Zoey coughed.
"Damn... you really don't mince words, huh."
That evening, Zoey was already packing her bag. Or at least, she was trying to.
Her half-packed bag sat open on the mattress, surrounded by everything she'd considered bringing over the last few hours: clothes, toiletries, chargers, and a growing collection of things she couldn't decide whether she actually needed. There were still several days before she had to leave, yet she'd already unpacked and rearranged the bag enough times to lose track of what had originally been inside it.
Zoey stood in front of the mess with a pair of pajamas in her hands.
"For God's sake, Zoey. You don't need to pack pajamas. This isn't a sleepover..."
She hesitated.
"But what if she wants me to stay the night..."
Heat rushed into her face.
"What the hell am I talking about? Am I crazy?"
"Yes."
Zoey jumped.
"AH! Geez..."
She looked around the bedroom.
Nothing.
"It's just me... How can I even scare myself? I'm so pathetic..."
She caught herself in the bedroom mirror, and whatever she had been about to say next quietly disappeared. The oversized clothes did what they were supposed to do. Mostly. They hid enough that she usually didn't have to think about what was underneath them, or at least could pretend not to.
The mirror was less cooperative. Her eyes inevitably settled on the parts of herself she always noticed first, the same ones she avoided looking at for too long. Without really thinking about it, Zoey tugged the hem of her top a little lower, looked away, then found herself looking back anyway.
"...Pathetic."
"Pathetic? Are you certain?"
Zoey froze.
Her eyes darted around the room.
"Is somebody there?"
"Still pretending you don't recognize me?"
Zoey turned sharply, searching behind her.
"Where are you?"
"You're looking everywhere except where you should."
Her gaze swept across the bedroom, moving from one corner to the next, searching for any sign that someone else was there. Nothing moved. Slowly, almost reluctantly, her attention returned to the mirror.
"Right in front of you."
Zoey stared at her reflection, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and dawning horror.
"I don't understand..."
A wide, unsettling smile answered her from the mirror.
"Really? Everything suddenly starts going your way, and you think you did that all by yourself?"
SLAP.
Both of Zoey's hands landed against her cheeks.
"No! Reenacting Lime Goblin in my bedroom is not going to help me... She'll just think I'm a weirdo..."
She inspected herself in the mirror one last time.
"...I was acting pretty good, though."