I probably shouldn’t lead with that if this is something that could make me money. I should just go with it and collect the money. She could also be wondering about another game since this isn’t the only one I stream or do videos for. For all I know she might want me to teach her since I’m a girl, and it would be less awkward if she’s looking for help.
Ahh, what if she’s a girl learning to play to surprise her boyfriend so they can play together? Did I really just turn this into a romance story in my head? Parker is clearly rubbing off on me.
She forced a romance book on me the first day I met her, and I told her I’d read it if she’d play a video game with me. She played, but she didn’t get into it. However, I fell hard into her books. Thankfully, she has a giant shelf that I can always steal from.
I glance at the time while I reload my ammo and loot my kills. When I see time’s almost up, I scan over the chat, where one catches my eye.
NubSlayer4Life: What else do you do in private for the “right price”?
“If you have to ask, Nub, you can’t afford it.”
DiscoThunder: She doesn’t do that kind of shit. Nub off.
A few of my regulars jump all over the chat in my defense, and guilt fills me. They’re not wrong. Until this point, I’ve done a very good job of trying to be taken seriously. It's bullshit because women should be able to dress how they want and still be taken seriously, but the world, especially this one, doesn't work that way.
“I think I’m done for now. I’m going to grab some lunch and then I’ll open my private chat for messages. I’ll only respond to real and respectful messages and others will be blocked and deleted.” Not that it matters. People can create a new name in seconds, but it helps filter some bullshit out.
“I’ll be back tonight showing the fastest way to do the new dailies for Morgalf rep for Battle Cast and grinding up to get their marks.”
A slew of chats ding in about grinding, and I roll my eyes. “Some of you seriously need to get laid,” I laugh before signing out, but I stay online to watch some of the messages spill into my inbox.
I pick up the letter I’d tossed aside from the university about one of the scholarships falling through and read over it again. A part of me is hoping I read it wrong or missed something, but of course I hadn’t.
Swallowing down the ball of emotion that rises in my throat, I try not to panic. Every time I think I’ve gotten my life in some kind of order, something comes along and knocks it over. I busted my ass for every scholarship that I have, and I told myself if I could get these scholarships I’d let myself get a degree in software engineering.
At the moment, the market is flooded with people holding that degree. It’s not as stable as something else I could get a degree in, and there are plenty of other fields that would be so much safer. But I thought if I didn’t have a pile of school loans over me, then it was worth the risk. Hell, I don’t know if I can get any loans. I don’t have credit, and I’m shocked someone let me open a bank account. I don’t know how long a loan would take to get, but I would guess longer than two weeks.
Parker would help me if I asked, but as soon as the thought enters my head, I chuck it right out. There’s no way I could ask her that. She’s the only real person I have in my life, and I never want to do anything that could risk that.
I stand up and pull on a sweater. I go to shut down my computer but stop when I remember I’d opened my inbox for private messages. A few I can delete right off the bat because some boys are really unoriginal.
I shuffle though a few more trying to see if I can find RunawayBridesmaid. Yikes, I knew I’d get a few, but this is crazy. Finally, I find it.
RunawayBridesmaid: How much for private chats not in this system? Your phone number.
I stare at the message. Why does she want my phone number? I’m starting to wonder if this is a girl. Forget it. I’ll ask.
BoomChick: Are you a female?
RunawayBridesmaid: No.
The response is instant.
RunawayBridesmaid: $500.
BoomChick: For my phone number?!
There’s no way this guy is serious. What the hell? Let's see if this person is messing around with me. I toss out my Cash App Trader ID, but I know this is bullshit. No one is paying that much for someone’s phone number. Another alert chimes, and I look at my phone. I almost fall out of my chair when I see that this guy didn’t give me $500, he gave me a grand.