Page 75 of What If It's You?

“Because you’re crying.” He crossed to me, swiped a thumb gently across my cheek. “I realized you’d been gone a while so I decided to check in. Did something happen?” He tilted his head toward the blank computer screen.

“Oh, umm…no.” I shook my head, blinking furiously,I love you I love you I love you.“One of my team members just pinned a video to our latest mood board with…a little girl and her sick dog?” That was a plausible lie. Go with that. “And there were all these images of them together and you could see how much he adored her but she took it for granted. Like…she loved him so much but she didn’t realize it until it was too late?” The tears started falling more thickly. Maybe this was…not the analogy I wanted to dig into right now. “I think I must be about to start my period,” I finally said, with a hiccup-laugh. Ollie bent to press his lips to my hair.

“Or you’re just a decent human being. Would…a third helping of ratatouille cheer you up? Or do we have ice cream in the freezer?”

“If I eat anything else right now I might actually explode,” I said, smiling softly.

“Okay, so not food. What else might help?”

I leaned my head against him.This. Being with him, touching him, feeling his heartbeat reverberate through my skin, so that just for a moment, it felt like we were too connected to ever be pulled apart.

But every single beat was actually the ticking of a doomsday clock, another second I’d never get back with him, and the idea wasso horrible it made the walls start to close in. I needed more than that. I wanted to really connect with Ollie, really see himnow,since I’d probably already lost the chance to spend forever together.

And suddenly I knew.

“I want to hear your score,” I said, sitting up to look at him. “The one you’re writing for the game.”

“Really?” He scrunched his nose in disbelief. “It’s not that interesting without the visuals.”

“But weren’t you playing the game the other day? When I walked in on you?”

“That was a static playthrough Ryan gave me. So I could match the music to the action.”

“Perfect. We’ll use that.”

I squeezed Ollie’s thigh, trying to transmit my excitement. It seemed to catch, sparking into a shy smile, an ember floating up into his eyes.

“Okay. But if you get bored just tell me.”

“I will. But I won’t.”

I pulled an extra chair in from the kitchen table while Ollie got his rig set up.

“So the game starts in a cave. Bobo—that’s you,” he pointed at a recumbent figure on the screen, more anthropomorphic lima bean than man. “He wakes up to this booming voice telling him the fate of the world is in his hands. And last he can remember, he was a turnip farmer, so the cave, and the whole ‘voice of the gods’ thing, kinda throws him for a loop. But…actually, the tutorial is baked in at the beginning, so you can just read along.” He rolled his eyes, flushing slightly as he started both the video and audio tracks. I followed along as the character on the screen tiptoed around searching for his clothing, then something to make porridge in,Can’t go out saving the world on an empty stomach,then learned from the goddess how to wield his wooden spoon and pot lid as a basic sword and shield. The animation was simple and cheery, but the text running along the bottom was darkly funny, and the music drove everythingalong, skittering anxiously at the start, then plodding along stolidly with Bobo the porridge fiend, then bursting into a minor-key orchestral fanfare as he finally exited the cave mouth to find a spectacular—and grim—scene before him, squat cartoon huts ablaze, adorable cartoon animals bolting every which way, the destruction taking on an air of epic beauty when paired with Ollie’s haunting, melancholy music.

“Ollie…this is incredible,” I said, leaning closer to the screen as the game continued, a charming blend of simple commonsense tasks (First things first, I’ll need to find this town’s well. And a bucket. Well…maybe a few buckets.) and puzzles with a mystical flavor, Ollie’s musical cues both signaling which was which and offering hints for the player, if they were paying close attention.

“You don’t think it’s too…out there?”

“The game?”

“The score.”

I didn’t even have to take in his obvious need, the hunger in his eyes, because I was already responding honestly.

“That’s what I was talking about. It feels so…organic. Like the world couldn’t exist without it, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He grinned hugely at the keyboard.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know about this,” I murmured, eyes fixed on the screen, the story unfolding there absolutely mesmerizing.

“It’s not like I brought it to show and tell,” he said.

“Fair. But I should have asked. You haven’t joined a new band in what…six months now? I could’ve guessed you were focused on something else. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying more attention.”

“It’s okay,” he said reflexively.

“It’s not. But I promise, I won’t do that again.” I reached for his hand and squeezed. The fact that I wouldn’t have a chance to make good on it only made me sad. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he nodded. “So what’s next?”

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