Archive of Our Own

Aiden had been playing Warcross for almost his whole life. He’d started when his friends at school discovered the easy excitement of chasing each other around the virtual levels, climbing up mountains made of jewels without leaving their bedrooms. But when they logged off to play soccer or do homework, Aiden stayed, playing in random lobbies until his eyes watered. And that habit never left him. Not in college, where he barely managed to get a business degree while spending as much time as possible with his NeuroLink glasses on, immersed in the virtual world that was always a thousand times more vivid and exciting than his real life. And certainly not once he graduated and could play anytime he was out of work.

He played so often, Zipper 3 said that his fingers moved through attack combos even in his sleep. Once or twice a month, he’d get so absorbed in a game that he forgot to eat. And he was always watching other players’ streams, studying their styles and strategies. Not all pros streamed, but enough did for him to get a sense of how the next season would play out before the first game even started.

Warcross wasn’t his whole life, but it came damn close.

As lame as that sounded, his investment of time did pay off. Although his job brought him to California often, Aiden was officially registered as the third-best amateur player in Canada.

In a casual game, he could play any role, but Aiden was known for his skills as a Shield, protecting the Captain from the enemy team. He was the best in the country at that role, since the top two Canadian players were Thieves. And the Wardraft was obligated to provide a variety of positions.

So really, the invitation shouldn’t have been remotely surprising.

But when he put down the mail and discovered a silver envelope stamped with the logo of the Warcross Council, his heart raced.

And when he opened the envelope—with shaking hands—to read the words: Congratulations, you have been selected as one of this year’s Wildcards. Please put your glasses on to confirm transportation to Seoul, he fucking screamed.

His girlfriend ran into the room. “Are you okay?”

“I was picked! I’m gonna be a Wildcard this year.”

“Holy shit, Aiden.” She hugged him, and the smell of her shampoo was the thing that made it all feel real.

He was going to fucking Seoul to maybe become a professional Warcross player.

Holy shit indeed.

“You have to keep this Memory,” she said.

Aiden hadn’t even been thinking about that. But she was so right. He put on his glasses to upload the memory into his Memory World, where he stored a mix of Warcross highlights (both his own and from professionals) and meaningful moments in his life. Or really drunk ones, when he suddenly got the brilliant idea to put his Neurolink glasses on and save a random night out for posterity.

“I will. I’m so happy.”

She pulled him into her arms. “So am I. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

.

Ludwig was gonna kill Stanz. “The fuck do you mean, you’re quitting?”

“I’m sorry, man. But I told you, my contract’s up, my reflexes aren’t as good as they used to be… I’d rather step down now than watch my whole career slowly go to shit. Besides, Richelle is ready to settle down and honestly, so am I.”

“Settle down now? We almost won last year! This could be our year!”

Stanz shrugged. “You can still have that with another Shield.”

“Is there another reason? You’re not that washed.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve made enough money.”

Ludwig shook his head. “Who the hell says that?”

“You do, dude. You were the one who told the press that you’re at the point where you could do this shit for free. Which is not true, by the way. You won’t be at that level of comfort until you win a championship.”

“Which I could! If you stuck around!” Ludwig sighed. “Wait another year, while we train a new Shield.”

“I’m sorry, dude. But we talked about this last year too. I’m putting my foot down on this one. I’m ready to have a private life again.”

Ludwig ran his hand through his hair. “I’m happy for you, man. But you gotta understand that you’re putting me in a tough position.”

“I know, man.” Stanz shook his head. “You’ll be okay, though. I heard the Wildcards this year are some of the best we’ve ever had.”

“They say that every year. But a Shield doesn’t just need to be good, they have to have good chemistry with me. How can I trust anyone else to protect me as much as I trust you?”

“You’ll learn,” Stanz insisted.

Sure. But Ludwig would love it if he didn’t have to learn another person’s movements and instincts during what might be his career-making year.

“Do the others know?”

“Slime does, but I haven’t told QT and Nick yet.”

“You should. QT will miss you.”

Stanz made an offended face. “What, and Nick won’t?”

Ludwig shrugged. “He’ll get over it faster.”

“Okay, man. I’ll tell them. I’ll see you around.”

When he left, Ludwig picked up his phone and started scanning the list of Shields in the Wildcards.

.

Aiden had never stopped to wonder how famous people slipped in and out of LAX without being photographed or harassed, but apparently the answer was a private terminal owned by Reserve P/S, a company dedicated to making commercial flight feel as fancy as humanly possible. Apparently, real celebrities got private suites and car rides right up to the planes, but Aiden just received access to “The Salon”, their luxurious lounge.

He felt a bit out of place, mostly because he was no celebrity. But if the game organizers were willing to pay for this, he’d take it.

A couple of other Wildcards were apparently on the same flight. One was a Fighter who introduced himself as Connor. He said he was from Wales but representing Japan. When Aiden asked why he was in LA, Connor had sort of shrugged and said that he had Warcross friends here. Yet another reminder of how far skills in Warcross could get some people.

Not Aiden, though. He’d been offered a sponsorship or two, but not by trustworthy brands that he wanted to work with. The fact that his play style was pretty boring compared to other Shields definitely contributed. He just wasn’t a crowd-favorite, and he was more okay with that than his bank account was.

Aiden wasn’t poor by any means, but LA was a fucking expensive city to live in, and in his ideal world, he’d be playing Warcross professionally instead of organizing it around his every spare second.

The biggest players could become ambassadors for brands like Dior and Valentino. Aiden wasn’t crazy interested in fashion or anything, but the glamor that came with fame was undeniably interesting.

“Group one is welcome to board this flight 7288 with service to Seoul.”

Aiden grabbed his suitcase and headed over, trying not to feel weird about the fact that he was flying first class on his first international trip since graduating college. He’d talked about traveling with his girlfriend, but life (and Warcross) always seemed to get in the way.

Although Korea wasn’t particularly high on his list of places to visit—he had nothing against the country, it just didn’t catch his attention as much as Sweden—he was insanely excited to be part of a Wardraft in one of the first countries to adopt the virtual reality technology. If nothing else, he’d get a fuck-ton of points there. Not that leveling up mattered that much to Aiden. Spending this much time playing Warcross put his level at 92. If he got to 100, he might get fancy desserts for free at restaurants.

He settled in his first-class seat and gazed out the window at the tarmac. In just thirteen hours, he’d be part of the biggest event of his goddamn life. And until then, Aiden was going to sleep.

.

Ludwig put one hand above the other, scaling the mountain with a breathless ease that he never would’ve had in real life. But the nice thing about Warcross was that everything could feel so real but never hurt you. He could experience all the exhilaration and none of the danger. It was like magic.

Of course, that explanation hadn’t gone over well with his mom when he first mentioned dropping out of college to pursue this. There were a lot of long sit-down talks about the value of a secure future and the risk of going into something like this. But once she saw his first paycheck, she acquiesced pretty quickly.

What his family didn’t know was that the only reason Ludwig was in this position now was because his breakthrough year had been insanely low on captains and the Phoenix Riders had just lost their captain to illegal gambling. In other words, he’d gotten insanely lucky. And that luck had only snowballed, as he discovered that he had great chemistry with his team. Between that and the rigorous practice that they were all thankfully willing to do, Ludwig was able to get the Riders to the semifinals. And the following year, to finals.

He was so close, he could almost taste their victory. If he was successful, he’d make history by being the first captain to lead the Phoenix Riders to globa victory since the inception of Warcross.

He reached the top of the virtual mountain, panting like he’d done real exercise. The only downside of Warcross was that he couldn’t actually work out in the virtual world. At least, he couldn’t gain muscle. But for some reason, people who trained in speed actively became faster in the real world.

Life was so unfair.

Ludwig removed his glasses and readjusted to the real world. Nick was seated on the other end of the couch, and he looked up from his phone. “All done?”

“Yeah. How long was that?”

“Two minutes forty seconds.”

Ludwig sighed. “I wish we could add a timer.”

“But then everything would be less immersive,” Nick said, putting the exact same emphasis on the word that the advertisements of their childhood had.

Ludwig sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. “What time is it?”

“Umm, one something.”

Ludwig was already checking his own watch: 13:32. “We gotta go.”

“Already? They told us to be there at three.”

“QT wants to be early.”

Nick nodded, grabbing his phone and heading to his room. Ludwig could tell by his easy acquiescence that Nick was just as anxious about victory as he was.

“Are we going soon?” Slime asked, walking into the living room dressed in the same outfit he’d worn on the flight here.

“Yes, and you need to get ready. You’re about to be on international TV.”

“See, you’re saying that like it’s some new thing. But the thing is, we’re all already famous. We’ve been in drafts before.”

“But we haven’t had first pick. And we haven’t needed a new Shield.” They hadn’t needed anyone at all, actually. That was how the Phoenix Riders were drafting first: they’d traded all their useless previous drafts to other teams. Before Stanz quit, Ludwig had planned to ask those teams for power-ups and access to special practice levels, but when the Cloud Knights offered this, he’d had to take it.

“You’re making a big deal out of something very simple, dude.”

“Just get ready.”

Slime nodded. “Just shout when the car’s here.”

Sometimes, Ludwig wondered how he was the captain. Who in their right mind had put him in charge of these people?

.

Aiden stared at himself in the mirror, running his fingers over the silver embroidery of the bomber jacket that he’d bought the night before. When he FaceTimed her, Zipper 3 had approved of this outfit. But now that he was about to leave the hotel in it, Aiden felt an unfamiliar wave of self-consciousness. He wished his girlfriend were here with him, that he could hug her and tell her how nervous he was.

But their call last night had lasted three hours and she was at work now. There was no reason to disturb her.

Aiden checked the clock: 14:12. One of the nice things about Korea, he’d learned quickly, was that they used the 24-hour clock. You know, the superior one.

He reached for his NeuroLink glasses, sinking into the most familiar place in the world. After checking that he was logged into his anonymous account, he joined a random game.

A white landscape unfolded in front of him, spreading a chill over his arms. Then the details came into focus. Shards of ice twice Aiden’s height were scattered around in a vaguely circular pattern, making Aiden feel like an ant on an ice crown.

He was on a stone tower beside his captain, whose avatar was made distinct from the rest of the teams’ only by the gem sparkling above their head. Everyone on his team was dressed in blue snowsuits. Across the snowy wasteland was an identical tower, this one occupied by the opposing team in their red snowsuits.

They waited for the powerups to appear, perfect colorful marbles sparkling vividly against the snow. Yellow for speed, green for better jumping, blue for flight. The larger and easier to grab a power-up was, the shorter it would last. But the small blue marble above the very tallest ice spike would give flight for the whole game.

The captain spotted it, too, and shouted, “Architect, if you can, I want you on the flight power-up.”

The short Architect—identifiable for the dynamite and rope attached to the hip of their avatar—replied, “On it.”

Aiden looked across the snow at the other team. He was just barely able to make out the gem sparkling above the other captain’s blond hair.

This was the simple objective of Warcross: to get the other team’s gem, which was called an Artifact. From the way their weight shifted as everyone waited for the game to start, Aiden could already tell that his team’s Thief wasn’t fast enough to snatch the opposing team’s Artifact right from the start. Which was honestly preferable. An easy win was rarely satisfying.

“3… 2… 1! Begin!” a disembodied voice said.

Their health bars flashed into existence, reminding everyone of how close a player was to being knocked out of the game.

And then they were off, leaping off the tower and onto the snowy slope that the Architect had made. The Thief and Architect were flying past on skis while Aiden was reduced to running in his game-provided snow shoes. Levels often tailored things like that to the specific needs of each role, which helped encourage specialization among players.

As the Architect skied down, they leapt up to grab the power-up, which they tossed to the Captain.

The Captain instantly used it. A burst of blue, and then they were flying across the map. But Aiden didn’t keep track of where they were going because the opposing team’s Fighter was suddenly way too close, grabbing at Aiden’s arm. The Fighter’s avatar was a bulky man a little taller than Aiden’s avatar. By the smoothness of his movements, he was no beginner.

He grappled with the guy, ducking to avoid the sudden swings of the dagger. A swift kick to the fighter’s legs made his health bar decrease.

The Fighter snarled and lunged for Aiden.

Knock. Knock. Startled, Aiden pulled the glasses off without explaining to his team—thank god he wasn’t on his personal account—and went to the door. “Yes?”

“The car is here,” said Connor. He was dressed in the same purple t-shirt that he’d been wearing when Aiden met him at the airport.

“Thanks.” Aiden checked that he had his wallet and phone, then followed Connor out of the hotel and into the most important event of his life.

.

Ludwig paced around backstage, wondering when Warcross had become so… glamorous. The last world finals had been in Madrid, and the stadium had felt way less full. Then again, Ludwig had stayed backstage the whole time.

Still, Madrid definitely didn’t have holograms playing highlight reels from last season. Or merch being sold in stands off to the side. What was this, a concert?

He pulled on his t-shirt, fanning himself against the stuffiness that came from cramming so many bodies into a relatively small space.

He scanned the room, noting the familiar players and the new ones. A couple of people wore their official jackets emblazoned with their team’s logos, but most were dressed in generically formal clothes. Ludwig had made his team wear the phoenix-shaped gold pins that he’d gotten custom-made after they made it to finals the year before.

QT was talking to Maya, the Captain of the Stormchasers. For the first time since leaving LA, she looked genuinely happy and relaxed. It made Ludwig feel like he wasn’t being a shitty captain for once, and that was always nice. Nick was arguing with some German Shield about the validity of skateboarding as a virtual reality sport. And Slime was getting barraged by sincere compliments from Will Neff, who looked a little drunk.

“Is it always this… chaotic?” a voice asked.

Ludwig looked up to find a tall guy with dark hair and the friendliest smile he’d seen in a long time. He remembered the Wildcard list enough to recall that this was a Shield. Maybe even one of the Shields that QT had recommended. He was more handsome in person, a fact which shouldn’t have meant anything. “Yeah, usually. Sick jacket, by the way.”

He looked down at his black-and-silver jacket like he’d forgotten that he was wearing it. “Thanks, man. I don’t know why I expected anything different, but I did.”

“Everyone’s first time is like that,” Ludwig said. “I’m guessing you’re a Wildcard?”

“Yeah.”

“From America, right? I mean, judging by your accent.”

“Canada, actually. Are you American?”

Ludwig shrugged. “I represent the US, but I’m also French.”

“Oh, you’re one of those people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ludwig asked, more amused than offended.

“Just one of those people who always brings up his European heritage.”

“It’s my culture!”

The guy smiled. “I guess so. Also, what’s your name?”

“Ludwig.”

“Aiden.” Right. Aiden, the best Shield in the United States. Ludwig should’ve recognized him earlier. “You’re the Captain of the Phoenix Riders, right?”

“Yeah.” Ludwig was about to ask what Aiden’s favorite team was when someone shouted in Korean. The translation: “Teams, get on the stage!” quickly followed.

“Duty calls,” Ludwig said, giving Aiden a brief salute before he went to find his team.

.

Living in LA, Aiden thought he was pretty normal about celebrities. But it was hard not to be a little starstruck by the sheer quantity of elite players here. At least a dozen different languages drifted up as people compared stats and preferred maps.

He literally recognized Ludwig from last year’s finals. He remembered the way his avatar fell to his knees, making his disappointment desperately apparent even to the millions of people who were only watching the virtual versions of the players. He even remembered the thing Ludwig was most famous for: popularizing a play style that heavily relied on a good Captain-Shield connection, training players in all sorts of nonverbal communication skills that made the Phoenix Riders an incredibly hard team to play against.

When Aiden was directed into a line with the other Wildcards so they could make a triumphant entrance onto the stage, Aiden couldn’t help but watch the others, taking stock of their clothes and their easy laughter. Most of the Wildcards had been in the Wardraft before and simply hadn’t gotten picked. He could read the consequential mix of confidence and doubt in their eyes.

The announcer said something in Korean that made the crowd scream, and then the line was moving. Aiden followed, feeling the same rush of nerves that he had the first time he won his team a ranked game when he was twelve.

Once the forty Wildcards were lined up on stands, the Phoenix Riders were invited to make the first Wardraft pick of the season.

Ludwig walked up confidently and announced, in the same easy tone that he’d used when speaking to Aiden only moments earlier, “The Phoenix Riders pick Aiden, Shield from the USA.”

The crowd shrieked like their favorite boygroup had walked on stage, even though Aiden doubted that most of them recognized him at all. He stepped forward to shake Ludwig’s hand. He felt separated from his body, like the hand that had held his iced coffee that morning couldn’t possibly be the same one that this famous Captain was touching.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he whispered.

Ludwig smiled in that perfect straight-out-of-an-ad way of his. “Actually, I did. My team needs a Shield. And you seem like a nice guy.”

“You didn’t study the Wildcards?” The second the list of Wildcards was released, most captains did crazy research to figure out who would suit their team best. That was why the Warcross Council put so many Wildcards in the mix: so teams would always have plenty of options.

Aiden didn’t get a chance to hear Ludwig’s answer, though, because the announcer invited the Winter Dragons to make their pick and Aiden returned to his place in the line, his phone buzzing with congratulatory texts from Zipper 3.

Ludwig had really made him into the number one draft pick of the whole season.

.

Ludwig had studied other potential Shields. Of course he had! But when QT pointed out that Aiden’s style was pretty close to Stanz’s, well, it had kind of sealed the deal for him. The fact that Aiden seemed chill when they talked was just a bonus. So yeah, he hadn’t really considered anyone else. Why would he, when the perfect option was right there?

“The first thing you have to get used to is all the cameras,” Nick explained. He’d taken to Aiden immediately and was giving him the run-down while Ludwig stroked QT’s hair for the sake of the drone recording footage of the whole event. Phoenix Rider fans loved to speculate about a romance between them, which had made their breakup a few months ago rather awkward. But QT was a professional about it.

“I’ve definitely noticed them,” Aiden said. “Are there cameras in the dorms?”

Ludwig was glad that he knew enough about the scene to ask that question. There were a surprising number of skilled amateurs who didn’t realize quite how parasocial Warcross viewers could get, and how much money there was in that. Luckily, Yingo never pushed the Riders that far.

“We actually have a shared house and we’re not doing a reality show, so there aren’t cameras there. But other teams have them,” Nick said. He was also watching the drone out of the corner of his eye.

“Okay,” Aiden said, sounding almost as overwhelmed as Ludwig had felt the first time.

“Don’t stress,” Slime said. Ludwig could tell by the way his eyes went to the clock that Slime was counting down the minutes until teams were officially released. It was honestly impressive that he’d gone through multiple interviews without strangling anyone for saying something stupid. But now that the interviews were over and everyone was just waiting around, Slime’s waning patience was becoming aggressively apparent.

“People are more lenient about Wildcards,” Slime continued.

“That’s nice,” Aiden said.

Slime gave Aiden a thoughtful look. “I think you’re gonna fit in well here.”

“Thanks, man. That means a lot.”

“Just make sure you listen to Ludwig and you should be all good.”

“I’m pretty good at obeying my Captains.”

QT added, “But you don’t always have to listen to him. If your instincts tell you to do something else, just communicate that to him and he’ll adjust his strategy.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Aiden said.

Ludwig thought about mentioning that QT’s instincts had been honed over years of experience as a professional Architect and that Aiden wouldn’t have quite as much leeway as her or Nick or Slime. But then he saw the focus in Aiden’s eyes and realized that there was no need to state the obvious.

.

Aiden watched the CU convenience stores and Olive Young drugstores and Twosome Place cafes whip by as the Kakao taxi rolled forward. For some reason, these brands were the things that really made him feel like he was in a foreign country.

“Do you have any advice?” he asked, hoping that speaking would stave off the heavy toll that jet lag was still taking on his body.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the way QT’s hair had flowed over Ludwig’s fingers like it was made of satin. He didn’t know why that image rolled around in his brain like a marble, but it did. And it was honestly annoying, because Aiden had more important things to think about than Captain-Architect relations.

“Our first game is against the Demon Brigade, so as long as no one catastrophically fucks up, we’re basically guaranteed to win,” QT said from his passenger seat, “which makes it a good prep course.”

“Of course, we’ll still train you,” Nick said. He, like Aiden, was aggressively squished in the back along with Ludwig and Slime. Apparently, Ludwig had ordered a taxi meant to fit four people max, but when the driver pulled up, he just sort of looked at them and said that he’d make it work. “But the season starts really fast.”

“Yeah,” Aiden said, thinking of the competitions he’d grown up watching, “I get that sense.”

“You should get some rest,” QT suggested. “Lud will make us do drills for like the whole day tomorrow. You should be prepared.”

“That won’t be hard,” Aiden said. “I’m still so jet-lagged.”

“Did you fly in yesterday?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, landed in the afternoon.”

Slime said, “Just try to stay up until it’s late and your circadian rhythm will stabilize or whatever the fuck.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Ludwig said.

The car rolled to a stop.

They thanked the driver and Aiden stepped out, taking in the sleek, modern-looking house that would cost $1.2 million in LA. “Wow, this is nice.”

“And free for you,” QT said. “Your bags should get here soon, if they aren’t here already.”

“They’re definitely here already,” Ludwig said. “Have you seen how efficient everything is?”

“Yeah, every time I go to a restaurant, the order comes in like five minutes. It’s been really nice,” Aiden agreed.

QT’s eyes were bright as she said, “Come in, come in. We’ll show you your room.”

.

Ludwig opened the pantry door to reveal the dream snack collection of overgrown kids. QT was the only reason they had three kinds of rice in neat containers and onions in a little basket. But the Pocky, pretzels, and Uncrustables were all for the rest of the team.

“If you want anything, just let me know and I can order it,” Ludwig said.

“Wow,” Aiden said, taking in the boxes of instant buldak and ramen, “it’s like a grocery store in here.”

“We try to keep it stocked so we don’t have to go out as much.”

“That’s fair. It is a nice house.”

“It’s mostly because of Slime and Stanz,” Ludwig said. “I mean, they’d go out if we asked, but they didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Well, I’m down for whatever,” Aiden said, and Ludwig found that he believed him. There was an ease to Aiden’s nature that Ludwig instantly liked.

“That’s good. But yeah, that’s the end of the tour,” Ludwig said, closing the pantry door. “What do you think?”

“Um, I think that it’s great that you care about hygiene, but I’ve never heard anyone talk about bidets for so long.”

Ludwig walked to the living room. “It’s just crazy how they’re not normal everywhere.”

Aiden followed him, perching on the white leather couch where Nick destroyed everyone at Melee. “Right, right. Because they’re definitely the norm in France.”

“They are! At least compared to America.”

Aiden smiled. “I’ll have to take your word for it. This is the first time I’ve left North America.”

“How have you liked it so far?”

“I mean, I haven’t seen that much, but so far I really like it. I feel like I can see over everyone’s heads.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ludwig agreed. “Korean dudes are so short.”

Aiden laughed. “I’m not sure you’re supposed to say that.”

“Say what, the truth? They make me feel like a giant.”

Aiden’s brows lifted. “Really? You? How tall are you?”

“Okay, there’s no need to get personal.”

Aiden gave him the exact same sort of exasperated look that Stanz used to direct his way. “If you say so, man.”

.

Aiden stirred his bowl of jjajangmyeon and looked around, taking in the seemingly infinite expanse of birch tables and food stalls that took up the entire basement of the Lotte mall that Ludwig had brought him to.

Surrounded by all these well-dressed people, Aiden felt a little out of place with his puffy down jacket and plaid scarf. But it was winter and he wasn’t about to freeze to death.

He was about to peel the little paper cover off his tiny bottle of water when Ludwig set down a tray across from him. He had tonkatsu and a melon-flavored Milkis, which was a drink Aiden had never seen before.

“I tried to talk Nick into staying here overnight once. But he said security would kick us out,” Ludwig said.

“Just tell them you don’t understand,” Aiden said. “If they try to speak English, pretend you’re French.”

Ludwig’s eyes lit up. “That was exactly what I said! But Nick said we’d still get kicked out.”

“He’s definitely right, but I’ve always wanted to stay 24 hours in some stupid place, like a grocery store or something.”

“You on that Mr. Beast shit?”

Aiden laughed, shaking his head. “Not like that. Not as a fucked up challenge or social experiment. Just as a weird bonding activity. My girlfriend said she’d consider it.”

“Is she back home?”

“Yeah. She’ll come visit if we make it to semis, though.”

Ludwig nodded. “That’s good motivation.”

“Yeah. You got lucky, picking someone committed.”

“Dude, you’re damn good at what you do, but every Wildcard was committed. What else would you call putting hundreds of thousands of hours into something you don’t even get paid to do?”

“I don’t know, parenting?”

Ludwig smiled, separating his chopsticks. “Do you want kids?”

“Wow, asking all the big questions on the first date?”

“Honestly? Kind of. Not in the sense that this is a date,” Ludwig said quickly after he took in Aiden’s incredulous expression. “I just think that it’s useful to know your mental state.”

“Right, you want to know your Shield well.”

“That too, but you’re also a part of the team generally. As your leader, I should know what’s up with you.”

“Well, to answer your question, I haven’t thought about kids a lot.”

“Fair. How’s your food?”

“It’s good. Do you want some?”

Ludwig shook his head. “I just feel like every time I come here with people, they order something I didn’t even know was sold.”

“It is a huge food court.”

“Did you see the grocery store?”

“Yeah.” Aiden thought about the sleek Gucci and Prada stores that they’d walked past on the way here, the way the stand selling Gentlemonster sunglasses had slowly disappeared as the escalator lowered. “This whole place is crazy, dude.”

“And it’s gonna be your life for the next few weeks. Longer, if you’re lucky.”

“Do you think we’ll be lucky?”

“I don’t think, Aiden. I know it.”

.

“Okay, time for a speed drill.”

Nick groaned, already tired from the practice games they’d played against Ludwig’s friends from Japan. But speed was crucial.

“When are we gonna be done? Because I want to start dinner.”

“It should only be like a half hour. QT, I want you playing Captain. Everyone else, normal positions. Aiden, defend her from these fuckers.”

Aiden nodded and reached for his glasses. The others did the same. “Got it.”

Ludwig put on his own glasses and pulled up the level, sending it to them.

Then he pulled them off and said, “Starting the timer in 3…2…1. Go!”

And then it was just a matter of waiting, twiddling his thumbs while his teammates raced to close out this mini game as quickly as possible.

Speed drills in Warcross were always a bit weird.

Because he needed to time them, Ludwig couldn’t actually see what was going on in VR, which historically meant he had to rely on a mix of Slime’s accounts—because Slime was the most impartial—and entries into Stanz’s Memory World.

Because Warcross used the users’ own brain paths to form the virtual worlds, taping games didn’t really work like normal video games. Instead, games were usually saved as Memories by live viewers. They would then upload those Memories for public viewing, and the Memories that contained key moments in key games without too much internal dialogue by the viewer became the most popular. When this trend first arose, it was compared to k-pop fancams, but it had become its own genre by now.

The only reason Ludwig usually turned to Stanz for his Memories was because his way of looking at the world was the most visual. QT’s Memories got weighed down by her internal monologue, which gave Ludwig a ton of insights into her thoughts, but made the drills themselves hard to follow. Nick just focused on details that weren’t always relevant and sometimes left out huge portions of the map even in very fresh Memories. And Slime could focus too much on the interesting gameplay but neglect the subtler details like when exactly someone got the power-up that they used very cleverly.

QT yanked her glasses off. “That was insane, dude.”

“Aiden?” Ludwig asked, putting his glasses back on. “Can you share your Memories?”

It was the first time he was looking at Aiden’s Memories in particular, but this method of speed drills was commonplace enough that Aiden didn’t really react. He just said, “Sure.”

The text: Aiden’s Memory World appeared in front of Ludwig’s eyes and he tapped his fingers against his thigh to bring them up.

He didn’t mean to pry, he really didn’t. But the Memory World automatically made thumbnails out of Memories and Ludwig couldn’t help but notice how many of those Memories included a pretty girl or a specific apartment. There wasn’t much from work, but he saw plenty of the usual stuff from weddings and college and bars and random places like swimming pools or parking lots. By the thumbnail, he could see that Aiden’s second most recent Memory was of opening his Wardraft invitation. Some places looked familiar, actually. Aiden had said he represented Canada, but did he live in California? Ludwig made a note to ask.

He navigated to the most recent Memory, which was already going a little insubstantial at the edges, about to be shelved privately in Aiden’s own head instead of into Henka Games’ databases. But Ludwig caught it before it did.

He was in a jungle full of paper animals. Tigers striped with text prowled behind the trees, their growls like papery rustles before a test. Slime and Nick stood across from him in a clearing. QT was to his right, the Artifact gleaming over her head.

The moment the in-game countdown was up, Aiden was lunging for Nick’s Fighter knife. But Nick spun away, and Slime almost kicked Aiden off balance. But he didn’t, and then Aiden was just… playing beautifully, moving through combos like a fish cut through water. Slime and Nicks’ health bars dropped steadily.

There was a bit of internal dialogue too.

Ludwig wouldn’t put me in this position, he thought as he dodged Slime’s easy attack.

That was smart, he thought as QT grabbed onto a vine to climb away from Nick.

I’m so fucking tired, he thought just before the game ended and the Memory became tangled in his return to the real world.

Fresh Memories were the most accurate, but their starts and ends could be very messy. And imported Memories like those from college were usually pretty clean because a person was walking themselves through them with the Neurolink glasses on.

If Ludwig thought too hard about all of it, his head started to spin.

“Nice job,” he said to QT and Aiden. “That was three minutes, four seconds.”

QT high-fived Aiden.

Then Ludwig turned to Nick and Slime. “As for you fuckers…”

.

“You sound so happy,” Zipper 3 said after Aiden finished telling the story of Slime describing Moo Deng to a poor Finnish Fighter from the Demon Brigade who kept asking what this had to do with Warcross.

“I am. I mean, I miss you so much. But this… I mean, this is the dream.”

“And it’s so cool to watch you achieve it. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time I watched you play.”

“We were basically guaranteed that win,” Aiden said, smiling.

“I know, but it was still exciting.”

He smiled, feeling unreasonably light and happy.

“Oh,” Zipper 3 said abruptly. “I have to go to work.”

“That’s okay,” Aiden said, “I should sleep too.”

She smiled so fondly, it broke Aiden’s heart a little.

“Love you,” he said.

“Love you too. I can’t wait to visit!”

Once he signed with the Phoenix Riders, Aiden’s pay was more than enough to fly her out for the semifinals, where she’d get the box seats offered to all players’ families. And if the Riders won, she’d watch the finals too.

“I know,” Aiden agreed. “I miss you so much.”

When the call ended, Aiden stared up at the ceiling for a little while, overwhelmed by his own luck.

Knock knock.

“Come in.”

Ludwig stuck his head in the room, and the light from the hallway haloed in hair in gold. Aiden had known right from the start that Ludwig was attractive, but that fact continued to feel novel, like he was a kid being told a fairy tale over and over.

Ludwig took in the laundry on the floor and used dishes on the nightstand. But since Ludwig’s own room was worse, all he said was, “Dinner’s ready. Also, are you from Cali?”

Aiden stood and followed him down the hall, which was lined with expensive abstract art. “Yeah. I mean, I was born in Canada and I have citizenship there. But I live in LA now.”

“Nice, so do I.”

“I know,” Aiden said out of pure instinct.

Ludwig’s brows rose. “Really?”

“I did some research once you drafted me.”

“Smart. QT is from there too.”

“Jesus, we’re such an American team.”

Ludwig shrugged as he opened the door to the kitchen. “The Stormchasers are all Brazilian.”

“I guess,” Aiden agreed, because he couldn’t exactly argue against something like that.

In the kitchen, QT was scooping fried rice onto plates. By now, Aiden knew that the plate of unseasoned chicken went to Ludwig so he could pursue his diet. The plate with the leftover dumplings would be Slime’s, because QT always paid attention to what he actually ate and he’d ordered three servings of dumplings the night before. Nick and Aiden’s plates were basically identical. And QT had the smallest portion.

“You know,” she said as he carried the plates over, “I think you’re my favorite roommate.”

“Thank you,” Aiden said sincerely.

“She’s just trying to get you to do the dishes,” Nick said.

“Oh, sorry, did I forget?”

Aiden was looking at QT, but it was Nick who answered. “You didn’t forget. But she wants you to do them again tonight.”

“Whose turn is it?”

“Mine,” Slime said. “I can do them, QT.”

“But I want you to practice with me, and I know if you do dishes, you’ll end up saying you’re too tired.”

“That’s actually fair. Aiden, can you please do the dishes for me?” Slime tried to do a puppy-dog sort of expression and utterly failed.

Aiden laughed. “Sure, dude.”

After dinner, Aiden went to the sink, but he was surprised to hear Ludwig following him.

“I’ve got it, man,” he said.

Ludwig said, “I just wanted to help.”

Aiden shrugged. “I mean, go ahead. But there’s not that much to do.”

Ludwig grabbed a plate and started scrubbing so aggressively that he splashed water onto Aiden’s shirt.

“Sometimes I can’t believe that people respect you.”

“Jesus, dude.”

“Sorry, I’m just telling the truth.”

Ludwig laughed. “Just do your job.”

.

Ludwig had made it to semifinals before, so he thought he knew what to expect. But he certainly hadn’t accounted for the sheer number of photoshoots that his manager had suggested.

“Really? They’d put us on a magazine?”

“The biggest one in Korea,” Yingo said.

“Damn, these people really do love Warcross.”

“They’re always into the newest tech. You should take advantage of it.”

So that was how Ludwig found himself here, sitting on a couch with his arm slung around QT and his gaze carefully focused on someplace beyond the camera. Nick was sitting on the back of the couch, the sleeve of his Chrome Hearts hoodie brushing Aiden’s arm. They’d gotten real stylists for this photoshoot, and Ludwig suspected that they thought Nick was way cooler than he actually was.

But just because they looked the part didn’t mean that any of them were behaving like proper models. Slime kept making QT laugh, and Ludwig couldn’t hold the poses they wanted without feeling laughter in his own stomach. He wasn’t built to be a still image, okay?

When the photographers finally packed up and the house was theirs again, Aiden looked at Ludwig.

“Want to practice? There’s an igloo world that I’ve been wanting to try. People are saying they put a new freeze power-up in it.”

Aiden was willing to bet that Slime had told him that. Despite the nonchalance he sometimes projected, Slime spent huge amounts of his time scrolling through forums in search of new levels or metas.

“Sure. Let’s just join a random lobby.”

Aiden put on his glasses.

And then time just… disappeared amidst the virtual worlds and the phantom presence of Aiden at his side.

When QT finally tapped him on the shoulder and told him dinner was ready, Ludwig felt the same satisfied exhaustion that he did after a really good workout: like he’d truly emptied his mind, like he’d accomplished something.

When was the last time anyone had felt like that after a video game?

At dinner, Slime made some joke about the breathtaking pussy of one of the Council members and when Aiden laughed, Ludwig felt more successful than he had in ages. This was what all those hours of speed drills and practice games and making new accounts because his burner ones were leveling up too fast were all about.

This was what true, sincere happiness felt like. This was what life was all about.

Ludwig had thought he felt that in the team with Stanz, but Aiden gave a new layer to that.

.

In the days leading up to semifinals, Aiden spent more time in Warcross than in the real world. He was constantly practicing with the rest of the team. And late at night, Ludwig would knock on his door and he’d let him in to practice the Captain-Shield drills that were critical to the Phoenix Riders’ play style.

At least, that’s what he told Zipper 3.

Aiden never lied to her, but after he cut a FaceTime short because Ludwig was knocking, the coldness in his gut made him feel like he had.

He and Ludwig really were practicing Warcross, but at some point, they’d take off their glasses. And then… and then they’d talk, their words spilling over the dimly lit sheets and random cups of Aiden’s bedroom.

Ludwig would lean on Aiden’s shoulder and talk about how badly he wanted to win, about the family in France who he was supporting with this job, about his favorite bits of Slime’s to recycle.

On one such night, after they won their last game of the night, Ludwig removed his glasses and looked at him. There was so much weight and warmth in Lud’s eyes that Aiden suddenly felt heat crawl over his skin.

He usually didn’t fluster so easily, but he couldn’t help feeling… wanted.

What a strange feeling to find in this ridiculously fancy house in Seoul, with the same Captain who Aiden had watched and admired from afar for years.

“You should get some rest,” Ludwig said abruptly, disrupting the quiet air that had settled around them.

“What about you? Are you not going to sleep?”

“I mean, I’ll try. But I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Oh?”

“I just keep thinking about our chances.”

“I think they’re pretty good,” Aiden said carefully. “At least, that’s what Sketch says.”

Ludwig laughed and reached for the plaid scarf that his girlfriend had bought for him last Christmas. He wore it whenever it was cold. “Do you really watch those people?”

“When they show up on my feed.”

“Just don’t let the numbers distract you too much. They never tell the whole story.”

Aiden watched Ludwig wrap the scarf around his wrists, transfixed by the repetitive motion. Then he said, so softly that he feared Ludwig wouldn’t hear him, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay, I should really go.”

An impulse washed over Aiden, the same sort of feeling that had made him shove Ludwig’s body behind his own right before the enemy Fighter went for a brutal kick in the last game. “I can help you sleep. Or try, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I could maybe read something to you. Or just, like, be there. I don’t know if that would help, actually.”

Ludwig smiled. “Your girlfriend’s coming tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, flight lands at nine.”

He shook his head. “Then there’s your answer.”

.

For a purely virtual crowd, their energy was really fucking palpable. Every time Ludwig played for the official competition, he found himself startled by how physical of a force excitement could be. He could feel other peoples’ hopes and nerves like actual flashes of electricity under his skin. It was the most exhilarating and terrifying feeling in the whole world. Ludwig was honored to get to feel it so often.

“3… 2… 1! Begin!”

He dove into the turquoise waters of the custom water world invented for the Warcross Semifinals. Fish swam past, their scales flashing like jewels. He could see Tarik in the distance, his own Artifact glinting in the water. Ludwig still remembered watching Tarik’s insane rise up the amateur leaderboards and onto the Wardraft stage, where he was the first draft pick for Team Andromeda, who he’d remained loyal to ever since.

Aiden was at his side in an instant, batting off Tarik’s teammates with some well-placed kicks that made their health bars dip.

The big danger in water levels was that they made comms harder, because the human brain got tricked into thinking that they needed to breathe. But Aiden was so in sync with Ludwig’s movements and habits that they didn’t even need to open their mouths.

The water started to darken and churn like a storm from a fairy tale. Warcross levels always got more dangerous as time went on, to increase stakes and interest for viewers. Ludwig kind of found the whole gimmick a bit stupid, since the best part of a game was the dynamics of the players themselves. And so much of the “increased danger” just amounted to storms or earthquakes that got really fucking stale after this many years of playing.

But their gameplay must’ve been boring to the audience. Luckily for them, Ludwig saw an opening. He headed towards Nick. Aiden instantly knew to dart forward and hold Tarik down long enough for Nick to reach out and snatch the Artifact.

And just like that, the Phoenix Riders had earned their place in the Warcross World Finals.

When he removed his glasses, Ludwig politely ignored the tears that were forming at the edges of Aiden’s eyes. Some steps of success should be taken alone.

He knew what it was like to be overwhelmed by the realization that you would participate in the biggest game in the world, that everyone’s eyes would be on you, that you would be part of history.

“We did it,” Slime said simply, as he pulled off his Neurolink glasses. “We’re going to finals.”

QT was laughing in a way that sounded almost delirious. “We’re going out tonight.”

.

Zipper 3’s flight was late. Not late enough to where she’d miss anything, but late enough that Aiden barely got the chance to hug her and introduce her to the rest of the Riders before he was shoved into a car.

But seeing her made everything feel both better and, somehow, worse.

It was hard to describe the tangle of emotions that had run through him when she shook Ludwig’s hand. All Aiden could say was that it was messier than it should’ve been.

“You treat him well?” she asked.

And Ludwig had simply replied, “Like a princess.”

Before Zipper 3 could react, Nick cut in, “Hey, I thought I was the princess.”

“Of course you are,” Slime said.

And then Yingling actually grabbed Aiden’s arm and dragged him to the car.

For the whole time while they set up, he kept thinking about how this would look from her perspective.

Did she see the closeness between him and Ludwig? Did it worry her at all?

Should it worry her?

Until now, Aiden had been trying not to think too hard about what it might mean to spend this much time with one person. One person who literally accessed his Memories. One person who ended his phone calls with “I love you” even when it was Mang0 on the other end of the line but who never said it to Aiden. One person who had molded him into the best Shield he’d ever been.

But when Zipper 3 was here, when she could see things with her own eyes… it was impossible not to think about it.

“Dude, you need to fucking lock in,” Nick said, a few minutes before they were supposed to do their dramatic walk-out.

“I will,” Aiden said.

And he did.

.

“You sure you don’t want to come out?” Aiden asked gently.

Ludwig leaned away from the door, suddenly reminded that Aiden’s girlfriend was sharing the room with him. Ludwig had only come here to ask Aiden if he was ready, but he’d completely forgotten about Zipper 3. Usually, he was more attentive than this, but c’mon. The Phoenix Riders had just made it to finals! Of course he had other things on his mind.

“I’m really fucking tired,” a feminine voice said.

“Do you want me to stay? I’m totally fine with that.”

Nice, Ludwig thought. He knew from experience that that was the right thing to say, and Aiden had used the correct tone too: caring and borderline concerned.

“No, you should celebrate.” She sounded genuine too.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am. This is the biggest moment of your career so far! You should get drunk about it.”

Content with this, Ludwig knocked on the door.

Aiden opened the door to reveal that he was wearing black jeans and a silver top that revealed more than it covered.

“Oh, wow,” Ludwig said.

“What, you don’t think I’m hot?”

He gave Zipper 3 a panicked look. She just asked, “Well, do you?”

“Um, I guess so?”

They both smiled, and Aiden grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

Ludwig didn’t get the chance to see what his girlfriend thought about any of this.

But three hours and too many shots of soju later, when he sloppily pressed his lips to Aiden, he definitely knew that she wouldn’t be chill about that.

“Oh my god, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Sorry?” Aiden asked, looking confused. “That was nothing.”

“I just kissed you. I don’t even know what I was thinking, not that that’s an excuse.”

“We should take another shot.”

“I— What?”

Aiden’s grin was warm and sloppy. “You look sad. We should take another shot.”

“No!”

Aiden laughed and then… and then he was gone, swallowed by the crowd and the lights and the music that suddenly made Ludwig want to rip his own hair out.

He’d been enjoying his time in Seoul immensely, but Ludwig was suddenly struck with the powerful urge to go home.

Not to France, the home that he so often brought up in interviews. Not LA, where he actually lived. But his childhood home, that house on what had felt like the quietest street in New Hampshire, where the snow would blanket the streets and his biggest problem was his math homework.

Ludwig wasn’t a melodramatic drunk, but apparently he was pretty melodramatic about this shit.

He thought about what Slime always said, how when you were fucked up, you were the real you.

What did that say about him now?

.

In the flurry of congratulatory phone calls and drill sessions, Aiden had kind of forgotten that part of being a professional Warcross player was being a public figure.

But when they were clearing plates from lunch and Ludwig announced, “They want to get interviews in an hour, so make the house presentable,” it all came flooding back to him. Aiden was the first draft pick, the star player of this year. And he was on the team about to go to finals, the team that was finally experiencing the meteoric rise that reporters always talked about wanting.

“An hour?” QT asked. “Lud, why did you wait this long to tell us! I have, like, no time to get ready.”

“They’re sending hair and makeup. And just wear your team jacket. What really needs work is the house.”

“They’re gonna think we live in filth,” QT muttered as she opened the linen closet and pulled out the vacuum that Aiden had only ever seen her use.

Nick and Slime started to pick the wrappers and plastic utensils off the red and orange rug that Aiden suspected someone had put there in honor of their team name. Aiden quickly helped Ludwig fold the random blankets and hoodies scattered around. Zipper 3 came out of his room to help clean.

Within moments, the living room was in pretty acceptable condition.

“The interviewers won’t come into our rooms, right?” QT asked. “Or the kitchen?”

“I can tell them to stay here,” Ludwig said.

“Do that. I have to get ready.”

Ludwig nodded. Slime and Nick slipped away as well, Nick talking to Zipper 3 about the best places to buy souvenirs for her friends.

And then it was just Aiden and his captain.

“So who’s interviewing us?”

“The biggest magazine in Korea, at least according to Yingo.”

Aiden had met Ludwig’s manager a couple of times and trusted that Yingling knew what he was talking about. “That’s great.”

Ludwig’s gaze suddenly felt heavy. “How did you feel about last night?”

“The game?”

“No.”

Aiden blinked, remembering the celebratory atmosphere of the after-party. He’d had enough shots that his recollection was scattered. He remembered Ludwig swinging an arm around him, laughing about something that Aiden couldn’t quite hear. He remembered the music, the way he could feel the bass in his bones. He remembered Nick and Slime convincing them to play some Mario Kart and getting way too into it. He remembered QT kissing Maya’s cheek, and then… and then Ludwig’s voice was in his ear.

What had they talked about? Aiden couldn’t recall.

“Um, did something happen? I’m sorry, but I was really fucking drunk, man.”

Ludwig suddenly wasn’t meeting his eyes. “It was nothing.”

Somehow, Aiden doubted that.

.

Aiden didn’t fucking remember?

Ludwig had experienced some lows in his life, but jesus. Having someone forget that he’d kissed them had to be the worst one.

He didn’t quite know how it happened, only that Aiden’s lips had definitely touched his, that he’d actually crossed a line in the sand that he hadn’t thought about until that moment. He knew that the lightness he felt around Aiden was different than what he felt with Nick, but Ludwig hadn’t known that it would take this form.

Now, he felt the embarrassment wash over him like water when he jumped into the pool in Toast’s house. It snaked through his throat and over his face. Ludwig wasn’t an insecure person by any means, but goddamn.

“Nothing.”

“I think you’re lying.”

“We just kissed.”

Aiden’s eyes widened. “Seriously? I’m sorry, dude.” He paused. “Unless you don’t want me to be?”

Unless I don’t want it to be? Dude, did you fucking forget about your girlfriend.

“I don’t know, man. I just… I’d never kissed a guy before. And you have a girlfriend.”

“She’d be fine with this.”

“How do you know that?”

“I mean, she’s kissed plenty of random people when she’s drunk or on vacation.”

Ludwig had forgotten that there were some real people who actually lived like this. Not that he was judging them, he just genuinely forgot. “If you say so, I guess.”

“Um, we should definitely talk about this later, but we have the interviews.”

“Right,” Ludwig said, the words feeling like they were coming from somewhere far away. “Another time.”

When he returned to his room, Ludwig put on his team jacket (a red bomber embroidered with a golden phoenix and his last name on the back) and did his hair in a trance. He didn’t know how he’d been so normal until now, making jokes over lunch and offering to practice with him one-on-one. It was like talking to Aiden had opened the floodgates or some other such simile.

God, Ludwig really hadn’t made good use of his English degree.

Anyway. This many years of balancing raw the love of the game with the performance that he had to put on in order to get sponsors’ attention had taught Ludwig to compartmentalize. Even when he was remembering Aiden’s breath on his skin, he talked casually to the interviewers, describing his strategy for the Phoenix Riders and explaining how exciting it was to be sponsored by brands like Prada (Nick), Balenciaga (Ludwig) and Chanel (QT). He hinted at the magazine cover that he would be dropping next week.

It was only after the interview concluded that he let the thoughts flood back in.

What was he supposed to say to Aiden now? What was he supposed to do now?

Fucking talk to him like a grown adult, a voice that sounded suspiciously close to Slime’s said in his head.

Summoning the courage that had brought him all the way from the library of his public high school in Nashsua (where they loaned out the first-gen Neurolink glasses to students) to the Seoul World Cup Stadium, Ludwig went to Aiden’s room and knocked on the door.

It swung open almost immediately. “Lud?”

“Hey. Are you free?”

“Yeah, come in.”

The room was clean, Ludwig noted. His clothes were folded away and his bed was made. The plaid scarf was nowhere to be found.

The first thing Aiden said was, “Don’t worry, dude. I already told her, and she totally understands.”

“That’s really great. But like, it was really inappropriate of me regardless.”

“Sure, but I didn’t mind.”

“I know,” Ludwig said, more to the ground than to Aiden’s face.

Aiden frowned at his tone. “Is there a reason you’re so upset?”

“Yes! I was really starting to like you, man.” Ludwig usually had an easy time telling the truth, and this wasn’t that different. But it kind of felt like a crazy thing to say.

He’d gone from thinking he was straight to… to maybe starting to fall for someone who was taken. And the whole time, he’d been thinking more about how nice of a person Aiden was than about the fucking girlfriend.

“I’m so sorry. I really had no idea.”

“Really? You never thought about it? Not even once?”

Aiden looked down at the floor. “I thought you were being a friendly Captain. I thought you were trying to make sure we had good chemistry, since that’s your playstyle. You know, like you did with Stanz.”

Ludwig closed his eyes, as if he could ignore Aiden’s logical words by pretending that Aiden himself didn’t exist. “I thought so too. I just… I feel so fucking bad now.”

“Don’t, man. It was on me, too. I should’ve paid more attention, should’ve told you about my girlfriend.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you should’ve.” Ludwig sighed. “But I guess we just have to get through finals. And then you’ll be free of me.”

Aiden frowned. “Free of you? What the fuck, dude? Is that how you think I see you? I’d never try to avoid someone just because you were attracted to me? I still view you as a person, you know. As my friend.”

Oh. Ludwig didn’t know how badly he’d needed to hear that until Aiden was saying it. “Thank you.”

“Do you need a hug?”

“Okay.”

In Aiden’s arms, Ludwig felt like he really would be okay.

.

“You should’ve fucked him.”

“Dude,” Aiden said, looking around furtively to see if anyone had heard Zipper 3’s words.

But of course they hadn’t. They were in the kitchen, making dinner while Aiden sat on the couch with her, watching a show.

She just laughed. “C’mon, you had a chance to fuck the Captain of one of the greatest Warcross teams of the year and you didn’t take it?”

“I wasn’t about to cheat on you!”

“You know we had exceptions. Besides, I like Ludwig. He seemed sweet.”

“Yeah, so you shouldn’t bully him!”

“I feel like I’m doing the exact opposite of bullying. I’m suggesting that you both stop feeling guilty about this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Aiden. We’ve talked about this. And I trust you.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Now we should go eat dinner. I can hear QT calling.”

Smiling, Aiden grabbed her hand and they went to the kitchen, which smelled like butter and lobster from the lobster rolls that everyone else was already digging into.

Aiden sat down. “So are we ready for tomorrow?”

Nick laughed. “I mean, we better be.”

“We’re gonna beat their asses,” Slime said with the kind of confidence that Aiden couldn’t help but believe in.

“Hell yeah,” QT agreed.

“Hell yeah,” Zipper 3 agreed. “I’m so proud of you. All of you.”

“Thanks,” Nick said.

.

Ludwig wiped his hands on his jeans. “Do I look okay?”

QT rolled her eyes, pushing her way in front of him so she could assess her own outfit in the full-length mirror of his bedroom. “They don’t care, Lud.”

“What do you mean? The fans pick apart everything.”

“Oh. That’s true. But I was talking about your boys.”

Ludwig sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I wear, Slime will make fun of me for it.”

“That’s why you love him,” QT said. She tugged on the hem of her skirt. “Do you think it’s too short?”

“Honestly? It’s not my place to say.”

“You’re so fucking dumb,” she said.

But there was a clear tension beneath her words, the anxiety of the day seeping into her tone.

Ludwig drew her body closer to his, hugging her from behind in the way that fans always commented on when they were being particularly parasocial about the team. At first, Ludwig had tried to get them to cut it out, but he and QT eventually agreed that they were making enough money from the attention that they might as well commit to it.

“It’ll all work out,” Ludwig said simply.

“I know,” QT agreed. She shrugged him off. “I know. You should talk to Aiden.”

“Why? Is he stressed?”

She met his eyes through the mirror. “He’s going to finals in the same year he was drafted.”

“Right. Yeah,” Ludwig said, guilty that he hadn’t thought of that. But Aiden always seemed so chill! “I’ll go check on him.”

He found Aiden in the living room, pacing around the white couch like a predator on the prowl. He was dressed in the team jersey, embroidered with a gold phoenix patch. His hair had the same downy texture that Ludwig usually saw late at night, meaning he hadn’t styled it yet. Ludwig kind of preferred it this way, but he knew that Aiden wouldn’t leave it.

“How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good, actually. Our chances are good.”

“Hell yeah, man. QT said you were nervous.”

“I think she’s projecting a little,” Aiden said gently.

Ludwig shrugged. “I think she’s just anxious about a repeat of last year.”

“Well, that won’t be an issue,” Zipper 3 said, emerging from Aiden’s room, “because you’re gonna beat their asses.”

.

Adrenaline coursed through Aiden’s veins, making Aiden fiercely aware of every nook and cranny of his body. Heat pulsated from the tips of his fingers to his chest.

The final, custom-built level of the Warcross World Finals took place in a street race down a comically empty version of the Myeongdong night market. Instead of placing teams on two platforms separated by some distance, this level spawned every team member in their own car, with each car lined up like sardines. Aiden hadn’t played many race-themed levels since he was a kid, but they tended to work differently from most levels, requiring a whole team to cross the finish line before they could get the other team’s Artifact. Some levels gave you the Artifact by default, some merely let you leave the car once you reached the finish line, so that you had to close out the game the normal way.

Aiden squinted to see the glowing marbles scattered around the street and over the awnings and store signs. Unsurprisingly, most were yellow for speed. But a few were green, which usually meant jumping.

To Aiden’s left was the enemy team’s Shield and to his right was the enemy Fighter. But beyond the other Shield was Ludwig.

He knew his strategy instantly.

“3… 2… 1! Begin!”

Aiden slammed his foot on the gas, heading straight for the biggest green power-up in his view. The second his car rolled over it, the marble entered his inventory. He continued to chase the power-ups down without ever losing track of the enemy Fighter or Ludwig.

He snatched a pink power-up labeled: Leap of Faith. If the unique color wasn’t a dead giveaway, the unfamiliar name would’ve been: this was a custom power-up, invented just for this game.

If Aiden weren’t so laser-focused, he might have appreciated how accurately the night market had been replicated, down to the false scent of fried shrimp and mandu. He might’ve paused to marvel at the way that the sleek metal of the cars bent the glowing street signs and advertisements.

But he was a Warcross player, not a tourist, so his mind was completely occupied.

The second he saw Ludwig swerve closer to him and slow down, Aiden used the Leap of Faith.

Instantly, he was thrust onto the road, having been teleported out of the car. Perfect.

He yanked on the passenger door of Ludwig’s car and slid inside. To compensate for the time loss, he started funneling speed power-ups to Ludwig.

“Where are the others?” he asked frantically.

“Just behind.”

Then Ludwig was slamming on the accelerator, until the black and white checkered flag came into view.

But the enemy Fighter was right on their tail.

Aiden rolled down the window just in time to grab the guy’s arm and prevent the dagger from plunging into his own chest.

They were so close.

And then the enemy Captain showed up.

If Aiden had another power-up that let him leave his car, he would’ve used it and just fought the Captain the normal way. But there was only one Leap of Faith as far as he could tell. No one else had transferred cars.

Ludwig finally crossed the finish line. The Fighter and Captain were milliseconds behind.

The car doors unlocked with a click and they both raced out. Shoving the Fighter aside with a force that Aiden usually wasn’t capable of even in-game, Aiden sprinted to the Captain and ripped the glowing Artifact off.

.

Nick was screaming. QT was already saying that Aiden should leave some glory for the rest of them. And Slime looked happier than Ludwig had ever seen him.

“I could kiss you right now,” Ludwig said without thinking.

Aiden’s mouth curved into something close to a smile. “Then go ahead.”

The thing about playing Warcross was that once the game was over, Ludwig was left with all this pent-up energy and nowhere to put it. That was why, when he was much younger, he’d punched Mang0 in the backyard of his house. It was an outlet, a release for the insane tension that built up when you played this intensely.

That was the energy behind this kiss.

.

“You should’ve told me from the start,” Zipper 3 said gently.

“I thought you’d be okay with it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me? You know I’m fine with hooking up with a stranger or whatever. But the way you guys played, barely talking to each other? The way he’s been looking at you the whole time I’ve been here? Aiden, that’s not the same thing.”

And Aiden had known that, hadn’t he?

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. I don’t want to break up with you on the best day of your life. But I can’t just sit here and take this.”

“I know. And that’s totally fair.”

“I… I can’t even be mad right now. My emotions are everywhere.”

“I know. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She smiled ruefully. “I don’t think that’s really true. But thank you. And have a good life.”

Aiden didn’t know what to say.

But he did know that, when she boarded the flight that QT had frantically booked for her, Aiden was a little relieved.

He hadn’t even noticed QT befriend Zipper 3, hadn’t even realized how much time they spent together while he trained with Ludwig.

The regret and grief and disgust would sink in later.

Tonight, he had a Captain to kiss and a career to start.

Tonight, he was a Warcross World Champion.