“For God’s sake,” the boss yells, “who the hell do you think you’re dealing with?” He is a tall, rather skinny man, clad in a dark blue suit with a gray pocket square poking out of his breast pocket. His appearance fits the stereotype of heartless wall street douchebags who compensate their hollow inside with the shiny outfit outside. He is not likable at the first sight, or even at the second, but as long as he is yelling at the giant guards, Ryan gives him the benefit of the doubt.
“This is Ryan, boss,” the first guard responds, lifting his wrist.
“This gentleman is a national treasure, you imbecile.” With his angular face shrunk, the boss’s hollow cheeks appear more frightening. “You can’t treat him like that,” he continues.
The deep furrow on his brow softening, Ryan starts to take a liking to the boss. “Come to think of it,” Ryan tells himself, “I am a national treasure, yet to be discovered. But how does the boss know about it? He must be a bright person.”
“Sorry, boss,” the guard responds flatly, his blank face empty of any emotions.
“Are you still holding his wrist?!”
“Sorry, boss,” the guard says in an indifferent, monotone voice and after a moment lets go of Ryan’s wrist.
“Ouch,” Ryan cries while rubbing his freed wrist as people do in movies; perhaps a bit more dramatically.
“Let me look at you, soldier,” the boss tells Ryan. “Why’s your lip bleeding?”
“Ask the gorilla, boss,” Ryan responds, pointing to the guards.
“We didn’t touch—” the second guard jumps in, fear obvious in his voice.
“Shut up,” the boss yells, “Shut up. Just shut up and get out of my face, you imbeciles.”
“OK, boss,” the security guards say in unison and leave the VIP room but not before giving Ryan a dirty look.
Ryan reciprocates that with a smirk and makes sure that they see it. “You do not know who you are messing with,” Ryan says with his look.
“You must excuse them,” the boss tells Ryan, bringing him a tissue. “They’re only trained to—”
“To kill,” Ryan jumps in.
“—to protect,” the boss continues. “Etiquette, hence, was not exactly part of their curriculum.”
His narrowed eyes on the boss, Ryan snatches a tissue. The college talk does not impress him. He never trusts one who hides behind big words. He already took care of the guards, and now it’s time for the final touchdown. “All right,” he begins. “I might’ve cracked your VR headset, and your gorillas gave me a fat lip. I say we call it even, shall we? Or you’d have to deal with my dad, otherwise. He’s a lawyer and he could sue the whole tournament.”
“No, no, no, my son. I have summoned you for a mission of utmost… ah… aren’t you unfathered?”
“How do you know?!”
“It’s my business to know, soldier. Anyway, back to the mission, the reason we’re here. I give it to you straight, soldier. Your country needs you and your talents—”
“Who the hell are you again?” Ryan asks.
“—A citizen is… Really?! You don’t know me?”
“Should I?”
“Does the name Senator Honestman ring a bell?” the boss asks, pride waving in his voice when he mentions his own name.
A real Senator! A man from the very top, where Ryan wishes to reach someday. A bit afraid of disappointing him, Ryan hesitantly shakes his head.
Senator sighs. “You don’t watch much news, do you? Well, if you did you would know that the Senate’s armed services committee are at the tip of my fingers. It takes only a slight gesture of my hand to…” Taking a deep breath, Senator seems to calm down. “Anyway, back to the mission,” he continues. “A citizen is trapped in an alternative-reality video game, and we need a talented gamer to enter the game and to save our citizen. Your country cherry-picked you to be the hero, soldier. Congratulations!” He finishes by putting his hand on Ryan’s shoulder.
Ryan is finally discovered! A fresh brightness wavers in his eyes, glued to Senator’s lips. His eyes dilate further with every word that Senator utters. The word ‘Hero’, in particular, echoes through his head, waking up suppressed emotions that Ryan had almost forgotten they even existed. Up until now, he was just an F-grade sophomore at Prod Gen High who was constantly blamed for devoting his time instead to his passion, gaming. And now he is being selected to be a national hero, to use his talents for good.
His mouth dry, Ryan gulps. It does not help much.
As if he has read Ryan’s thirst on his face, Senator gestures to the mini-fridge on the side of the room. “Can I offer you some—”
Before Senator finishes the sentence, Ryan passes by him, rushing to the mini-fridge behind. He takes the first water bottle his hand touches. It tastes funny, almost bitter, but Ryan is too thirsty to mind. After chugging half the bottle, he takes a deep breath and turns back to Senator. He cleans his mouth with his sleeve and asks, “Why me?”
“Because you’re the best,” Senator responds, offering a flattering smile.
The look of excitement vanishes from Ryan’s face in a matter of a second. The word ‘best’ has triggered painful memories in him. “No, I’m not,” he snaps, slamming the water bottle on the fridge. “I just lost the championship to Kathy, The Sexy Fox. I will be the 4th at best if I somehow manage to beat Tom, The Dragon Slayer on the Sahara battlefield. Kathy must be still around, somewhere in the amphitheater. I can grab her for you,” Ryan says, heading to the door.
“It has to be you, soldier,” Senator says firmly from behind.
“Why?” Ryan asks without turning back.
“Because you are one of the best. And because you know the victim,” Senator responds, squeaking the last words.
“I do?” Ryan turns to him.
“Lynda Honestman.”
“Who?”
“You must know her as Lynda Queen.”
“Lynda! How… why… How do you—”
“I’m her father. Lynda and I had our differences. She insisted to hide her identity when moving to Proud Gen High, which I understand is where you two—”
“Me and Lynda are over,” Ryan snaps. “Can I leave now?”
“She never got over you.”
“She broke up with me. Do you understand? She broke up with me. Where is the damn exit?” Ryan asks while trying the many locked doors in the VIP room until one of them opens. Behind it is standing one of the security guards, his huge body blocking the way. Slowly chewing gum, he turns to Ryan. “Get the hell out of my way, you imbecile gorilla.” With his shoulder leaned against the guard’s belly, Ryan unsuccessfully tries to push him away.
While wheezing, the guard looks up at Senator.
“Out of my way. Now,” Ryan shouts, his voice trembling.
Senator sighs. While turning away, he reluctantly waves the guard aside.
The exit clear, Ryan runs out before his emotions take over.