Love the Games You Play: Faux in Love, #3

By J. Leigh James

It's all fun and games until someone falls in love.

 

Kathryn loves her life just the way it is. At school, she's an art student with a small group of loyal, creative friends. At home, she's WhisperKitty, a moderator for one of the fastest growing gaming channels TuckandRoll. Her two worlds are blissfully separate, and she plans to keep them that way. Until a group project at school forces those worlds to collide. Kathryn's secret crush on Tuck is threatened when she discovers the gamer may be closer than she realized. Will knowing Tuck's secret identity change everything?

 

Trae never wanted popularity, in real life or online. He started gaming to deal with his grief, and when it began making a profit, he continued his channel to support his elderly aunt. Only his two best friends know what his after school job really is. And he intends to keep it that way. He's already seen firsthand how cutthroat the popular crowd can be, and he prefers to keep all his mind games relegated to his online life. Working with Kathryn tempts him to open his world and his heart, but he's been burned before. Can he trust that she won't use him and his popularity by exposing his secret?

 

Two hearts, two secret identities, and one enormous decision. Can they risk ruining their online connection for a shot at love in real life?

 

♥ Buy Love the Games You Play today to see if love wins. ♥

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Leigh James
• Release date: Feb 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781735860930

J. Leigh James

J. Leigh James lives in Texas with her amazing husband, "bad apple" daughter, and neurotic cat. She began writing in middle school when a beloved story had an unsatisfying ending. After rewriting the ending to the story, she became addicted to creating love stories with happily-ever-after endings. She loves connecting with her readers, so check out her website and sign up for her newsletter.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

KATHRYN

Hello friends, lovers and enemy combatants. Welcome to TuckandRoll, and today we’re playing Race the Universe. I’ve got my favorite moderators with me today, MamaBear and WhisperKitty. Say hello, Ladies.

I grinned at my computer screen. No matter who Tuck had moderating his online gaming channel, he always called them his favorite. So, I didn’t take the compliment personally.

Now Cubs, MamaBear said, Let’s play sweet today. Don’t make Mama growl.

But, Mama, I said into my microphone, I sharpened my claws just for this livestream.

Tuck laughed, and I smiled at the warm, rich sound. Tuck’s laughs were the best. With his face concealed from the fans watching him play games, all we had was his voice. It was modulated slightly; Tuck was big on privacy. We respected his, and he respected ours. But even with the modified sound, I still loved the pure joy in his laughter.

OK, Kitty, no clawing the community, he said.

You take away all my fun, I teased and then turned my attention to the chat box where comments were pouring in. While Tuck played his game and interacted with people leaving comments, MamaBear and I would make sure everyone obeyed the rules. He wanted to be family friendly, so no cursing or abusive language was allowed. Mama and I would watch for violators and kick them out if they repeatedly broke the rules. We also looked for trolls, people who joined the livestream just to cause trouble.

Tuck had sixteen official moderators; people he’d hand-selected because they’d earned his trust and pledged to uphold his rules. I’d been lucky enough to get offered the position last year, and after watching Tuck play games for the last three, I jumped at the chance to be part of the group.

Mama and I were the ones interacting with the community for this game, and we had two more who watched in the background for anything we might miss. It was an efficient checks-and-balances system.

As a perk for volunteering our time, Tuck shared a portion of his profits with us. He asked the mods to submit designs and slogans for his online store.

Anyone who loved TuckandRoll livestreams could buy his branded merchandise, and one of his top-selling t-shirts carried a design I’d created from his popular catch phrase Hell’s Hippos, which he usually said whenever he thought he’d lose a game. My design featured multicolor hippos with fiery eyes surrounded by flames. It was silly and fun, and I was extremely proud of it.

Even better, it was earning me a couple hundred dollars a month. I had friends that earned more at their part-time jobs, but they had to work twenty hours every week. I spent a few hours on my design, and if Tuck liked it, he uploaded it to his site, and people could order shirts, mugs and stickers with my designs. Three hours of work on a design and a few hours of moderating each week gave me plenty of time for homework and the art club at school.

I muted my microphone and clicked a command on my cell phone. It connected to the smart plug in the hallway and turned on a small nightlight. This was the signal to my family that I was online. That way, they wouldn’t disturb me while I was moderating.

It wouldn’t prevent my nosy little brother from eavesdropping, but at least he kept quiet and didn’t create distractions.

My bedroom, where I livestreamed, had separate zones, and I’d decorated each one to match the different aspects of my persona. My bed and dresser were in my normal teen zone. This was the girly side of me with stuffed animals and frilly curtains and splashes of pink and baby blue over my otherwise boring beige walls, oak furniture and tan carpet. The art zone took up the left corner of my room, next to my bed and near the window. I had a blue tarp covering the floor, a small drafting table and an easel. Here I could be as messy and carefree as my art tended to be. And my final zone was a tiny desk in the right corner of my room. There my gaming computer sat on a small shelf underneath the desk, and a large metal frame held up my three monitors.

The third monitor was overkill. I’d asked for it last Christmas when I’d toyed with the idea of streaming my games. But after seeing everything Tuck put into his streaming channel, I’d given up the idea.

Instead, I was completely satisfied with being an insider to TuckandRoll’s growing channel. His followers had increased quickly lately, and some larger streamers were taking notice. He’d even been invited to play a couple games with some bigger channels. The timing hadn’t worked out for him, but it was exciting knowing that one day he’d have a collaboration with a famous gamer. Then his popularity would explode.

And I planned to be there when it happened.

Sometimes my little brother would turn into Tuck’s livestream, though he hated I wouldn’t give him any special favors when I moderated. But I had a job to do. I made sure people followed the rules, and I sent private messages to Tuck if he missed thanking a member whenever they donated to his channel while he was playing.

Occasionally, he’d play group games with his top-tier subscribers, and I’d be one of the members he’d invite to play on his livestream. My favorite game was Spot the Spy, and after I’d played several episodes with Tuck, my WhisperKitty social media accounts had gathered followers.

My older sister, Amanda, said I needed to capitalize on my pseudo-fame. She was studying for a business degree at college and thought of everything as a money-making opportunity.

Right now, I was happy with things the way they were.

We’ve got a live one, MamaBear said through my cell phone. She was an older lady who preferred direct calls to using the online communicator that switched back and forth between community and private notifications. It was nice to hear her unaltered voice, and if a livestream ran smoothly and didn’t need much attention, then she’d share stories about her kids and grandkids.

Great, I said sarcastically. Who is our victim?

SuperWilderness33.

I scrolled through the chats and saw what she meant. Wilderness flirted outrageously with another person in the chat named SweetSallee. This isn’t a dating channel, I sighed, why do people do this?

MamaBear laughed. Who knows. I’m assuming you want to be the baddie?

You know it, I said.

MamaBear was a sweetheart. She was one of the few mods who would give people several chances to straighten up their act before we kicked them out.

I probably had the least patience with people. Work your charm, Mama.

She typed a message in the chat @SuperWilderness33, Careful with the flirting, you might make the other girls jealous.

The idiot typed back to her, Are you jealous, Mama? Want to experience the Wilderness?

I rolled my eyes. I would have cut him off right then, but Mama still had a few tricks to play.

Now sweetie, you do my old heart good to flatter me like that. But why don’t we stick to supporting Tuck? This is a fun game.

He didn’t take the hint. I bet you’re a hot cougar.

I’d had enough. Mama might give this guy a chance, but I wouldn’t. Know what’s hot @SuperWilderness33? My eject button. Watch yourself or I’ll press it. Or better yet, keep doing what you’re doing. My claws are ready.

The guy apologized and kept his comments focused on Tuck’s game performance.

You really do have those claws sharpened today, Mama laughed. Have a bad day at school?

I wouldn’t call it bad, I said. Just annoying. I have this stupid social studies class, and the teacher announced a group project today. I hate group projects.

Do you get to choose the group?

She didn’t say.

Well, maybe you and your friends can be in the group together.

Maybe, I said. But the truth was, I didn’t have any friends in that class. Through this awful twist of fate, I was surrounded by jocks and cheerleaders and popular royalty while my art club and drama club friends took the required class later in the day. There was no one in the class I wanted to be paired with.

It will be fine, Mama encouraged me. With your sparkling personality, you’ll have that group eating out of your hands.

Or I’ll claw them to death, I teased.

She laughed, and we returned our focus to the livestream, which went smoothly after I’d put Wilderness in his place. Tuck had a great game and won several rounds. His gaming skills were impressive. Far above mine. I could never do what he did.

After his streaming, Tuck liked to meet with the mods who’d worked his game. It was a quick ten-minute group call on this chat software he had. There was no video, and the server slightly distorted our voices, but Tuck said he thought the anonymity was fun.

I liked how it deepened my voice a tiny bit and made me sound older, sultry. None of us knew what the others sounded like, and that was kind of fun. Mama was the only one who heard our true voices because she wanted to talk outside of the system Tuck had created for us.

Nice job, Ladies! he said when he joined us on the call. Then he thanked the other two mods who had stayed in the background. Kitty, did you see the comments from the community?

He knew I had. I’d been monitoring the comments, after all. I had ignored the situation he referred to. But leave it to Tuck to recognize a money-making opportunity.

Several people had asked Tuck to sell a Clawed by WhisperKitty t-shirt in his store. I knew what he planned to ask, and I tried to stop him before he could start. It’s the TuckandRoll channel, I said. Not the WhisperKitty channel.

Exactly, he said, So you could either start your own merch store, or let me handle your products and take a 10% cut.

That’s a great idea, Mama said.

I don’t think so, I said. I’m not a brand, and I don’t have a platform. What’s the point in selling my own merchandise?

Just come up with a design, he insisted. People want it. Let’s put it on the site, and if it doesn’t sell, then we’ll take it down. We can do the same thing with the other mods. You and Mama can be the first with your own products.

That’s a wonderful idea, MamaBear said. "I want mine to say, MamaBear Hugs."

I laughed. OK, fine, I gave in. I’ll send you some designs. MamaBear can choose the one she likes the best.

Excellent, Tuck said. I have a great feeling about this.

I didn’t. I worried it would be a miserable failure. I wasn’t a celebrity like Tuck. I didn’t have 500,000 followers on social media. This would be totally embarrassing.

We ended the call, and I turned off the hallway smart plug. Almost instantly, my little brother crashed into my room.

I want a free WhisperKitty t-shirt, he said.

I sighed. It doesn’t work that way, Tom. If I want one, I have to buy one. That’s the way these merch stores work.

He groaned. What’s the use of you being cool if no one knows it? If I can’t play with Tuck or get free merch?

I’m sorry, I held back my laugh. At twelve, my brother was a little sensitive, and I tried my best not to prick his fragile feelings. What about this? If the t-shirts sell, then when I’ve earned enough money to pay for one, I’ll get you one. Is that fair?

Tom’s face lit up. Yes! Because they’re going to sell like crazy. Everyone on the chat said they wanted one.

Five people, I corrected, Tuck charges the lowest amount possible for his merch. I won’t make enough money from the sales if only five people buy it.

My reality check didn’t hit home with my brother. You wait, he said. You’re going to sell 500. And I’m getting a free shirt.

He bounced out of my room, and I released my laughter. At least he believed in me. Or rather, in WhisperKitty.

I put up my equipment and left the gaming zone. Time to be a regular girl again and hang out with my regular teen friends.

TRAE

So who is WhisperKitty? Nathan asked. He was one of the few people who knew my secret identity. Occasionally, he’d hang out with me while I livestreamed my games. Today, he and my other best friend Ben had come into my gaming studio as I wrapped up my call with the mods.

I’d set up my studio in a spare bedroom in my house that I’d lined with sound-absorbing panels. My equipment was laid out, ready for whenever I played. All I had to do was step into the room, boot up and go live. And the whole configuration remained conveniently hidden from anyone who might come over and didn’t know about my secret life.

The panels also masked my friends entering the room while I held my after-streaming meeting with my crew.

I logged off my computer and removed my headset. One of my mods, I said.

She sounded hot, Nathan said.

My jaw clenched, and I forced it to relax. He didn’t mean anything by it, and he was totally crazy about his girlfriend. But I still didn’t like it. I modified her voice, I said. I run our sound through a program to protect our identities.

But what’s her story? he said.

I don’t know, I admitted. Knowing her story goes against the whole being anonymous thing, I joked. However, I had picked up a few things she’d casually shared over the past several months. She had mentioned taking college classes, so I figured she was older. She had a brother who followed my channel and a sister who didn’t. Other than that, she rarely mentioned her personal life.

We had that in common.

I wondered what my followers would think if they found out I was a high school senior. That I’d started streaming my games at twelve years old and in five years had built a business equal to an adult’s full-time job. How many of them would hang around if they realized a seventeen-year-old made enough money to pay off his family’s mortgage and keep food on the table?

How many of them would assume I was a spoiled, rich brat who didn’t deserve the business that Tuck was building?

I’d never planned to make money from my gaming. I had needed an escape from reality, and streaming the games helped me connect with others when I felt completely alone. Now, it was fun, but also work, a lot of work. Between streaming games, connecting with my community, keeping my moderators happy and managing my merch store, I had more on my plate than the average teenager’s after-school job. But I loved it, and I planned to keep it going and take care of myself and my aunt for as long as this ride lasted.

You ready? Ben asked, and I breathed out my relief. Ben was the only person in the world who realized I had a slight crush on my mod. It was stupid, really. I didn’t even know the woman, what she looked like, where she lived, or her relationship status. Even if I did, no doubt she’d never give a high school kid the time of day.

Still, I loved her sharp wit and her fierce dedication to people following the rules. Plus, she never wanted anything for herself. When she first started hanging out on my livestreams, I’d had some pathetic merch on my store. After she started moderating for me, she began giving me design ideas and soon her creations became my best-selling products.

We’d struck a deal. Her designs, my store, and we evenly split the profits.

But that’s not why I liked her. I liked her because she always made me smile. I could be my dorky self, and she never judged me for it. Teased me, yes. But never judged.

Give me a minute, I said.

The guys nodded and headed to Ben’s car. I found my great-aunt watching TV in the living room. We’re going out, Nina. You need anything before I go?

I’m not an invalid, she said. Despite being in her late 70s, Nina was one of the most active people I’d ever met. She was nowhere near being an invalid.

Yeah. But this awesome lady raised me to respect people. I smiled when she narrowed her eyes at me.

Trying to butter me up? she said. What do you want, Child?

I kissed her on the cheek. Her old-fashioned and quirky sayings cracked me up and often slipped into my language when I played my games. Nothing. I’m not sure what time we’ll be home.

Be careful, she said.

We will, I answered. Because she went to bed super early, she never imposed a curfew. But I also made sure I never gave her any reason to worry. After everything she’d done for me. I never wanted her to regret taking in a scared little boy who’d lost his entire family.

I grabbed my house key and hopped into Ben’s car. Our first stop was Tucker’s diner, where our group of friends usually hung out. I loved the restaurant as a kid and had partly inspired my channel’s name after the place.

Where are your girlfriends tonight? I asked the guys. They usually didn’t fly solo, and Ben offering to pick me up signaled he’d be alone tonight.

Sleepover, Nathan grunted. No boys allowed.

I laughed. Are you going to survive not seeing her for one whole night?

Whatever, Nathan said.

We piled into the restaurant and moved to the table where our friends sat. There were mostly guys, since four of our usual girls were at the sleepover. The girls around the table comprised the most elite popular girls and some of the meanest in our school. I found myself sandwiched between Juliet Davidson and Cyn Houghton. Juliet was my ex-girlfriend. We’d dated for a couple of months until she began hitting on Ben and other guys. He wasn’t interested in her, and she saw him as a challenge. Even now, when he had a girlfriend he was crazy about, she still flirted outrageously with him.

Since I was nothing important to either of the girls, they barely spoke to