Page 50 of Playing For Keeps

“You have a weird expression on your face.” Corinne looked a little concerned, and Farren could only assume she appeared slightly crazed.

“A game club for kids.” The words seemed so simple. The solution and rightness of it seemed silly. How had it taken her this long to find the answer?

“A game club for kids,” Corinne repeated, slightly breathless as she tasted the idea on her tongue.

“A game club! I know it’s silly. I know it’s not a soup kitchen or clothing drive. I know it’s not social work and therapy, but… it could still help, it could still mean something.” My ideas could mean something. I could make a difference.

“I think it’s a great idea!” Her friend beamed up at her, and Farren felt her own answering smile spreading across her face.

“It’s me. It’s what I can do and what I want to do. I’ll keep subbing, obviously, because I enjoy it and I need to pay bills. But I could reach out to the coffee shop or maybe a rec center in my neighborhood and see what I can do. This could be a chance for kids to let go, to learn, and make friends. I’d provide a safe space, at least for a little while.” Farren’s brain raced with the logistics of it, of how to realize what was just a wisp of a thing right now.

“We. If you need it, I’m happy to help. This is big. I’m so proud of you!” Corinne looked like she was on the verge of tears, and Farren knew her friend was definitely well on the way to getting drunk. Farren truly felt how much changed in the last few months, even just between her and Corinne.

She’d let go of things that hurt her. She’d fallen in love and probably just found her purpose.

Not that her dream of game design was silly or wrong or something she would give up on, but this was meaningful and could make a difference for people other than herself.

“I love you. Thank you!” Farren gave up on the side hug idea and gave her friend a massive squeeze, feeling despair lifting off of her for the first time in a while.

Part of her wondered if Sebastian would’ve felt the same pride Corinne mentioned. It was a thought she pushed into the recesses of her brain. This wasn’t about him and his feelings. It was about Farren, about her coming into her own. She had to do this for herself. She had to find her way. Maybe there’d be another chance with someone else later down the line. Maybe with him, her traitorous brain threw out. Either way, she needed this.

Farren wanted to prove to herself she could do it, and she would.

The friends sat at the bar for hours, plans and ideas scribbled onto the napkins that littered the bar top. Slightly sticky, not wholly formed, but it was the start of something, and Farren knew she’d found the thing that set her soul on fire.

Sebastian was fucking sick of himself after two weeks with only his thoughts to keep him occupied. The grind that kept him on track for so long wore him down to bones scraping along the rails, a runaway train with no end in sight. Farren ignored every one of his attempts to reach out, and he couldn’t really blame her. He’d attacked her character.

She hadn’t exactly been kind herself, but Sebastian held plenty of the blame.

She took up so much of his brain space. Sebastian hated that he could barely bring himself to care about sitting at a cubicle for hours on end when it felt like someone scooped out his chest, leaving him hollow. After he declined drinks multiple times, Rachel eventually wore him down to have a coffee with her before work.

“Why do you even care?” he’d asked when she loomed over his desk the afternoon before, looking put-together while he ran a hand through his hair and wondered when the last time he'd showered had been.

“You’re on my team. Plus, I don’t have many friends at the company. I know you don’t either. It doesn’t have to be anything other than feeling like a human being outside of work,” she’d responded.

So, he agreed. They found themselves at some swanky coffee place that covered everything from drip and pour-over to French press and siphon methods. It smelled like roasted beans; the sleek look of the shop was so different from the one where the game nights were hosted. The scent was too sharp, too focused, with none of the sweet notes from the pastries to cut through the acridity. Sebastian sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, all swooshes and artistic angles, not built for practicality. This was not the sort of place people brought their laptops to or hung around all day.

The floor was glistening tile, the mug he held was clear glass. Rachel had no problem ordering. Then again, she seemed like she was always in control, at ease. He’d opted for the least complicated thing he could find and contented himself with burning the tip of his tongue and having the bitterness of it coat his throat.

They talked, and she urged him to open up, clearly seeing something was up. Andrew might not have noticed a dip in his productivity, but she did. He tried and failed to deflect, and it slipped out about Farren, about how horribly things went between them. How royally he’d stuffed it up. Rachel listened as he laid out how stupid he’d been, how much he regretted what he’d said, especially now when he couldn’t apologize. No wonder it seemed like he had one foot out of the door at work.

“I don’t blame you. Being a contractor is a soul-sucking endeavor. Especially if your reasons for being in it are flimsy. We’re just there to keep the government happy. If I hadn’t already put so much time into this freaking company, I probably would’ve found something else by now.” Rachel nailed it exactly.

“Sunk-cost fallacy. I’ve thought about that as well. I’ve wondered whether I want to keep doing this, if I’m still trying to prove a point or if it’s just all I know how to do.” The mug was scalding in his hands, caffeine slowly injecting his body with energy. Insomnia was his constant companion, and the only thing that could even start to cut through the haze was coffee.

“Why did you get into this? Don’t get me wrong, you’re pretty good at your job, but it’s no one’s passion to sit in a tiny cubicle for nine hours a day,” she said, and it felt good to talk about it, to finally think about how he’d gotten here.

“I can barely remember at this point. Teachers encouraged me, so I felt seen. Professors recommended career paths. It just seemed to stick. The line from where I was to where they pointed seemed so clear… uncomplicated. And then my ex screwed me over, stole my app idea, and I was fired in the blow-up afterward. It put a chip on my shoulder, gave me something to focus on besides the betrayal. So, I started working, and I haven’t stopped. It was easy to let myself go to those places when I could justify it was to prove my worth, show I was better than her and the job that let me go.” How much of his life was his own agency?

Sebastian had gotten swept up in defying his parents, in carving out his place and having it be meaningful. He’d lost his way in trying to prove he belonged in this world, grasping for his footing after Ashley ripped the rug out from under him. Even with Farren… It felt like he’d lost himself a little in her, his attention shifting quickly toward one so bright and stunning where he was a solar lantern at best—practical when needed but not something to marvel at. Sebastian wanted to be more than just a name on an office door.

He wanted Farren. Needed her almost. But he didn’t want to be the same person he was when she left his apartment that night. Sebastian had some evaluating—some growing—to do. A niggling part of him knew it would probably mean quitting his job. The thought wasn’t as scary as he’d feared once. The uncertainty of an unmarked path loomed ahead, but the freedom of it was exhilarating. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he could try and see where he truly belonged, not just where he performed best under pressure.

Rachel listened to him talk about the future he was afraid to admit he wanted, one with Farren, where he could breathe and try something new… possibly multiple somethings. It seemed a little blasphemous, entertaining the idea of starting over when he felt so close to getting what he’d worked for. But he knew the acid eating up his throat and the sleepless nights, and the general dread he woke up with every day weren’t the best he could do.

He deserved better.

Farren showed him that.

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