I can’t believe I had a conversation with Matthew Cardhart. The thought had been circling Eve’s mind for the rest of the weekend, and it continued to plague her as she walked to work on Monday morning. She hadn’t had any more sightings of Mr. Cards, but the news of him being treated at the convention’s medical tent spread like wildfire only hours after the incident. A few people even managed to snag blurry photos of Matthew as he was being transported on the stretcher.
Matthew made a post on several of his social media accounts the next day:
Hi, everyone! Thanks so much for your concern for me over the last 24 hours. I was treated for heat exhaustion and left the convention early to give my body time to rest. I’m sorry for letting you guys down, and I can’t wait to see you all on tomorrow’s stream!
“Poor guy can’t even faint without having to discuss it with the whole world,” Eve mumbled to herself as she crossed the street.
She couldn’t get Matthew out of her head. When he had only been Max, Eve had been able to talk to him with ease, and, if she dared to admit it, was beginning to feel a connection with him. The memory of his deep, throaty chuckle popped into her mind, and the hairs on her arms stood up.
He didn’t laugh like that on stream.
Forcing herself to focus, Eve pulled open the door to her workplace. The building had seen better days, but inside it bustled with life and activity. Pixel Pulse started as a small blog run by one person, but over time it exploded in popularity and became one of the leading sources for gaming news. Now the website had enough demand to require a team of ten employees, and Eve was the team’s newest member, having started only three months ago.
“Eve! Welcome back! Eve’s coworker Jamie rushed to greet her before she even reached her desk. Jamie carried a stack of papers; her laptop sat balanced on top of the pile. Jamie had been one of the first people to speak with Eve when she began working at Pixel Pulse. She instantly made Eve feel welcome and had gradually become her friend.
“Jamie! It’s good to see you. Do you need help?”
“Nah, I got it.” Jamie gestured with her free hand, which held an iced coffee, causing several loose strands of golden hair to fall from her braid and into her face. “How was the convention? Did you see Mr. Cards?”
Eve thought of Max and swallowed hard.
“Kind of.”
Jamie raised a manicured eyebrow in confusion, but did not question Eve further. “You have a lot to catch up on?” She asked instead.
Eve shrugged. “I’m between articles right now. I kind of want to write out one of my own before the boss gives me an assignment.”
“You better hurry. He’ll probably be over here after he’s done with his client meeting. He’s been in there all morning, though. I have no idea who he’s with.”
“Thanks for the tip, Jamie.” Eve smiled and hurried over to her desk. It was the same as she had left it—organized chaos, just like her mind. Post-it notes with fragments of sentences that only made sense to her lined the edge of her desk. Papers were grouped into rough piles but not labeled or filed away. Her large container of highlighters, pens, and pencils—all mixed — sat poised next to her laptop, as if inviting her to start a project.
Eve had been writing ever since she was in elementary school. One day, she checked out a book from the library and found she did not like the way it ended, so she decided to rewrite it with a brand-new ending. When she got the job at Pixel Pulse, one that combined her love for video games with her love for writing, it was like a dream come true.
However, Eve had been off to a rough start. She had only been assigned a handful of boring top ten lists and game reviews. She wanted to write news. Eve wanted to write articles that caught her audience's attention and wowed them, and she had the perfect opportunity right now.
She opened up a blank article template, cracked her knuckles, and began to type.
My Time with Mr. Cards
Time ticked by, and Eve’s fingers flew across the keyboard. Before she knew it, she had a completed draft of an article sitting across from her, but something gnawed at her. Her time with Matthew had felt…intimate. It had felt like two people sharing a genuine moment of connection. Putting that on display for the entire internet to read, just because it would make a good story, felt wrong.
“Eve!” Her boss’ voice called from down the long hall.
She quickly hid the article in her drafts and clicked out of the template screen. Her boss, a large man who was surprisingly quick on his feet, raced over to her desk.
“Hi, Jerry,” Eve said carefully.
Jerry’s dark eyes narrowed. He looked at Eve as if he had never seen her before.
“Eve, you have some explaining to do,” he whispered.
Did he know about the article? Eve wondered.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I have Matthew Cardhart and his team in the conference room right now, and they are here to see you.”