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He blinks, presumably waiting for me to lighten up. For a reassuring smile or something. But one never comes. "Alrighty, then. No waiting." He clears his throat and props an elbow on the bar top. "Kingston Entertainment is sponsoring five games at this year's DreamScape, and one spot for the Indie Creator Showcase."
One sentence. One sentence from his mouth and...
My. Mind. Goes. Fucking. Blank.
Thanks to this barstool, I remain upright.
Dumbfounded isn't really the right word. Neither is stupefied or really any single word capable of adequately capturing my reaction. It's more like my entire ribcage catapulted into my windpipe or a boulder the size of the sun splashed down in the pit of my stomach.
Because what he said can't be true.
DreamScape is only the largest gaming convention in the country, probably in the whole world. It's the way to put your game on the map and in front of the most eyes possible. For years, I've tried to land a feature, since starting Cosmic Kitty Defense during my first year of college. But landing one is nearly impossible. Thousands of indie devs apply each year, all hoping for the same thing.
I stare at him, my brain a vacant slate. "Come again?"
"You heard me right."
When the bartender returns with our drinks, I recollect my thoughts as my mental gears churn. "Why would a film production company involve itself with DreamScape?"
"The company's considered moving into the gaming industry for a while. It's a lucrative sector right now with an expanding market capitalization. Although it hasn't reached public knowledge, the board has decided to pull the trigger."
Lucrative sector...?
Market capitalization...?
... Am I still speaking with the same Hayden who throws sex parties, frequents the front of gossip news for dating A-listers, and intentionally arrives late to first dates? Or did he and his body double swap places while I was undergoing a mental crisis? My eyes narrow into slits as I judge his straight yet relaxed posture, the controlled gleam in his gaze, and the way he hasn't even glanced at his drink...
The math isn't mathing.
I cross my arms. "And how would you know such an insider secret?"
When he reaches into his pants pocket, I expect some magical paper that'll clear my suspicions, but out comes a box of cigarettes. Anxiety coils around me at the sight of them. Is smoking allowed in here? But it seems Silver Spoon here doesn't care for rules, as he plops a white stick between his lips. Flicking his metallic lighter, he eyes me with amusement, smoke billowing from his mouth and nostrils as he says, "My father's taken me under his wing."
My brows shoot to my hairline.
Hayden and Mr. Kingston have always had an estranged relationship, to put it lightly. Growing up, Hayden never explained it so politely, having on many occasions deemed the word hate more appropriate. On top of that, he compares corporate life to slavery, so why would he suddenly start working under his father?
A lot can change in five years, he said.
My gears hum once more. Turning, turning, turning.
In my silence, he takes another drag. "I could put in a good word with him. Make sure you get a fair shot..."
My knee bounces anxiously.
Kingston Entertainment may be a publicly traded company, with an acting board and a large array of investors, but Warren Kingston is the majority shareholder. He has the final say. In everything. Landing an audience with him, someone who decides whether a game lands a DreamScape feature, is like every game dev's wet dream.
A once in a lifetime opportunity.
An opportunity so rare that I'm tempted by Hayden's words, despite the muddy waters between our two families. Between our parents, specifically.
It wasn't apparent until I got older but, during a short window of my adolescence, my single mother was Warren's mistress. Why the two split is unknown. My mother never speaks of it, I never bring it up, and neither does my brother. As children, all we knew was, one day, we were allowed to sleep over at the Kingston's residence. Then the next, we weren't. A year later, the news buzzed with their divorce, as Hayden's mother, Sylvia, banked over ten billion in the settlement, despite their prenuptial agreement.
My mother has zero comment regarding the matter.
So, if I'm willing to sweep all that under the rug...
Hayden taps his cigarette, raining ash onto the polished mahogany, the rebellious act squirming my insides. Giving me a leisurely up and down, his eyes dance with delight. He's got me wrapped around his finger.
