The only thing I could do was go on my own social media accounts and reinforce the same scripted bullshit that Fallyn and Dustin had posted.
Oh, and watch my corner of the internet devour itself in a violent clash of jeers and cheers.
I didn’t care for either side of what I was seeing. People hated me for being a sexist pig. For abusing my position of power. For working on a video game that was basically just porn and no wonder I was such a pig.
People were praising me becauseThat bitch deserved to be pinned down and fucked and taught her place.
The only thing I got from the twin blasts of vitriol was the reminder that most people sucked.
I was used to it for me, though not in such concentrated doses, but Fallyn shouldn’t have to deal with this. Link shouldn’t either.
For me personally, I was more worried about my future at AcesPlayed. One of the reasons I bought into the company, besides believing in it, was so I’d have control over my situation there. So I wouldn’t run into another moment like at Cord.
But if the board decided I was a risk to the company, they could force me out. They could buy up my portion of the company with a majority vote, and I was gone. Every single investor contract had a clause like that in it. I just never thought it would apply to me.
That didn’t matter. Once I had a chance to meet with the rest of the board, we’d all reach an understanding, and I’d be fine. And the sooner that happened the better, so I could get back to work with my team on my game.
Until that point, I was stuck in a kind of limbo, trying to figure out how our chats with Fallyn were leaked. They came from her account—the way they were formatted, everything about them, said a member of the chat had exported them, and that it was her.
If she didn’t do it, who had access to her account who could’ve? We didn’t have the ability to spoof accounts in the office, and we didn’t have access to passwords. Which meant no one had that ability. Someone had to have logged in as her.
And they could’ve picked any of her conversations. Link and I weren’t the only people she talked to, so this seemed pretty obviously targeted at all three of us. And there was no doubt it was intentional. Like the DDOS. An attack against her and us at the same time.
Had the other crashes been intentional? Yesterday’s? The one from the start of last week?
Had they come from my people?
The thought was foul. Not possible. My developers were the best and they were professionals, or they wouldn’t be working for me.
Was it a friend of Fallyn’s? It seemed like a bad idea to interrupt what she was doing to ask if she had any friends close enough to do something like this, but underhanded enough to do something like this.
And those photos from this morning, of Link, Fallyn, and me in the hotel parking garage—where did those come from? There had been a lot of people around that night.
Why hadn’t we pieced any of these events together before?
Because games crashed, things went wrong on release week, and click bait ruled the internet. But now that I was looking at the entire situation, I couldn’t help but wonder how many of our problems were related to each other. Was I letting paranoia get the best of me, or finally opening my eyes?
I organized my thoughts as best I could, and emailed them to Link and Nigel on their personal accounts. The message started withI know you can’t tell me what you find, but if you’re not already looking into this…
Link’s quickthankswas as much acknowledgement as I needed, but his follow-up text that saidwish you were working on this with usmade me smile.
Me too, I sent back.
This was so much bullshit. I was sitting around doing nothing, while other people did the work, and I hated it.
Monday morning, I put on my nicest suit—silk, tailored, and cost me more than any piece of clothing ever should. This kind of dressing up wasn’t something I did often, but I was capable when it was required, and today I wanted to show as much respect as possible for my fellow board members.
I got to the offices early, and loathed walking in without being able to work.
Soon enough. As soon as this meeting was over, I’d be back at my desk. The team would get pizza, I’d probably spill something on the Italian silk, and we’d all laugh about it and finish fixing the game.
The instant I walked in the front door, Ivan stopped me. “Judith says I can’t let you go anywhere but her office or the small conference room.”
“You can pretend you didn’t see me. Just for five minutes.” I wasn’t asking, I was telling.
Ivan’s tight-lipped smile said it didn’t matter. “No. But she left her calendar open for you.”
I should be grateful, but I wasn’t feeling it. That didn’t mean I’d pass up the opportunity to talk to her. I forced myself to turn away from the hallway leading to the Dev room, and headed to Judith’s office instead.