THE KING OF THE GOLD SYSTEM GAMING

PANTHER

She hangs up, and I’m left in the silence of my car. I don’t even bother turning my music on. I’m too annoyed to appreciate it. I just want to stew in my own frustration.

How many failed dates would I need to go on until they give up?

Too many.

Fuck. I wish there was a way out of this without having to actually get a real girlfriend.

I mentally accept my death sentence as I swing into the private underground parking garage at our apartment complex and park in my designated spot among Aleks’ and Maker’s luxury vehicles.

My mood stays sour the entire elevator ride up to the penthouse. I stop to grab a sparkling water from the fridge before heading into my streaming room.

The tension in my shoulders instantly loosens once I’m surrounded by nothing except the green LED glow of the room. I drop onto my gaming chair and crack open my can as I start my computer up. My PC whirs to life, and I admire it with a sense of pride. I built the entire thing from scratch. It had taken longer to build than planned because the graphics card I’d wanted was on backorder, but now it ran like a beauty with no lag. Custom PC builds can get pricey, but they are worth it if you’re an invested gamer.

A notification pops up in the corner of my monitor, alerting me that Maker and Aleks are already online—which I gathered from how quiet the penthouse was when I came in. Even when we aren’t live streaming, we are probably playing video games. When we stream, we have to beon, but on nights like tonight, we like to play just for the hell of it because it helps us destress and have fun. It’s important for us to do both, otherwise we could risk losing our love for the games to the constant pressure.

I click on my friends list and scan to see who else is online.

Leyla’s playingGods League, the most popular 5v5 MMO game and the top esport game, with Aleks, Maker, and two of our pro-gamer friends, Wylder and Ryder—twins who go by the gamertags WyldShot and SmoothRyde.

My eyes linger on the little round circle framing Panther’s profile picture.

She hasn’t been online in days, but I can see her racking up gameplay hours offline.

Not that I’ve been stalking her or anything, I’m just paying close attention. She’s been quiet ever since the swatting, and it doesn’t sit well with me.

The boys and I were swatted a few years back at the old warehouse we used to use for streaming before we moved into our current penthouse apartment. It had been a scary as fuck experience. Nothing prepares you for an entire SWAT team barging in, waving guns, and shouting at you out of nowhere.

Panther is still new to the gaming world compared to the rest of us, and I see the way the rise to fame unsettles her when she thinks no one is watching. I just wish she wasn’t so stubborn. It pisses me off that she is still staying in that apartment when Maker has clearly pointed out its shitty security.

A notification pops up and I slide on my headset before clicking on it to join the Discord server Maker’s invited me to.

I’m instantly assaulted by him yelling, “What the actual fuck?”

“RIP, dude,” Ryder laughs.

“You wankers could have saved me.” Maker’s London accent thickens the more frustrated he gets.

“You are literally support, English,” Leyla sighs. “That’s your job.”

 

“This is why I hate this game.”

Maker kind of sucks atGods Leagueand avoids it when he can. He might be one of the best speedrunners to exist, but it doesn’t matter how many years we’ve played, there is just something in his brain that won’t let him get better atLeague. He’s still ranked Silver class while Leyla, Aleks, and I are all Ruby. Ryder and Wylder have God Master ranks, but as pros it would be embarrassing if they were anything less.

“How’re we doing?” I finally chime in.

“Shield, welcome to the party, my man,” Ryder drawls, addressing me by my gamertag.

“Maker’s dragging us all down, per usual,” Aleks grunts.

“I didn’t ask to play, you all made me,” Maker whines.

“No, we said we were playing, and then you got upset when we wouldn’t join you inFrozeLineand complained you were lonely,” Leyla corrects.

“Yeah. Technically, you invited yourself,” Wylder laughs.

“Whatever, I’m quitting. Herson can take my place.”

“Thank God.”

I click to join their game lobby and then decide on which character to use for support. I don’t mind the role; it just isn’t my favorite. As support, my main job is to assist the lane player—Ryder in this case—until they amass enough experience and gold.

We start the game, and Ryder and I head down to the bottom lane of the map to begin working our way through the minions.Minutes pass as Ryder continues to farm for gold while I tap in for support and grow my XP.

A notification pops up on my second monitor, and my gaze darts to it.

I abandon my gameplay, quickly moving my mouse to click on the notification before it disappears.

Panther’s profile loads, a little green dot appearing on the corner of her picture. But just as soon as it is there, it flicks away, turning gray again.

“Shield, the fuck are you doing?” Ryder bites.

I whip my attention back to my main screen just in time to see an enemy player blast him with a spell.

“Shit.” I quickly throw a healing cast. “My b.”

“You guys good down there?” Aleks checks in.

“Someone got distracted,” Ryder grumbles before raining bullets down on the enemy and killing the fellow God champion. “We’re fine now.”

“Nice kill,” Leyla congratulates.

“Distracted? The great Shield?” Wylder taunts.