Page 20 of His Starr Player

I feel you. I’m on the same type of time you’re on. I’m about to head to the venue. Have a great practice.

AVA:

Good luck! You got this. I’ll check in later.

I hearted her message and slid the device into my pocket. Ava was one of a kind and easy to talk to. She was sweet, sexy, and smart. She wasn’t a dumb athlete; she had a leveled head on her shoulders with a passion for ball I only ever saw in a few players growing up.

My phone rang as I headed out of the apartment.

“What’s up, Nay?”

“Good luck today, Marcus. Mama told me to tell you Daddy would be there. She’s coming to my practice.”

“Yeah. Pops sent me a text letting me know he would be pulling up to the venue. Good luck today to you as well. Show them bitches who the fuck Marnajah Hastings is.”

“You know I will. You do the same.”

“Fa sho. I love you, bighead.”

“I love you too.”

We hung up, and I smiled. Life was going perfectly. I prayed I could secure the win for my squad. With the money, I planned on doing something special for Ava.

Every seat in the venue was filled. My team had started setting up before I arrived. I searched for my father in the crowd first. He was a tall, six feet and two inches in height. He loved his gray and had fully accepted the salt and pepper look. When our eyes locked, he waved, and I gave a cool nod in his direction.

There were ten screens lined up on the stage where the teams would compete. There were also three huge, big screens elevated around the room to give viewers an unforgettable angle for all the fun. Each screen would broadcast a player’s screen for a few moments before transitioning to the next. These tournaments were a big deal for esports communities. It legitimized and monetized something a lot of us did to decompress and have fun doing.

“What’s good, brodie?” I greeted Jayshawn first.

“Yo!” Jalen dapped me up before he went back to connecting our controllers.

I dapped up Garrett, Ronnie, and Kelvin. I’d met the three of them in a PlayStation party with Jayshawn damn near two decades ago. We all had a good vibe and had been friends ever since. We’d been to each other’s weddings, baby showers, and bailed each other out of jail a couple of times. Men had it easy when it came to finding and maintaining a brotherhood.

“I hate being first on the bracket, but the shit should go fast. One and done. Loser gets up.” Ronnie explained the tournament rules as he signed into his PlayStation.

“Everybody cool on what they are running?” I asked.

Everyone replied with various forms of yes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this season’s 2k tournament, sponsored by Bowers Brews. The Bowers brothershave set aside three hundred twenty-five thousand dollars in prize money. This is our biggest prize to date, and we want to make sure everyone involved understands the rules,” the host, Princess Bea, explained. She recited the rules and asked if anyone had any questions. Once we’d all agreed to the rules, we claimed our seats. She gave us a ten-minute countdown to warm up. I was on my six-feet- and seven-inch-tall lockdown build. The build had all the mechanics to protect the paint defense.

“Let the first round begin!” Princess Bea shouted into the microphone.

“Let’s get this shit, boys!” I cheered as I adjusted the headphones on my head. I cracked my knuckles, said a quick prayer, and locked in.

The game was evenly matched. It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped, but in the end, we got the first dub. We had a break between the next two games. During the break, we ate, went to the restroom, and hydrated. I stretched my legs and checked my notifications.

AVA:

Congratulations, babe! I saw the end of the first match. Talk about a clutch player. Not to mention, you look sexy as hell playing the game.

I laughed at her message. I couldn’t lie; it felt good as fuck to have her supporting me. A lot of women hated a man who spent time on the game, but Ava was different. She understood how important the game was to me, and I was grateful. A lot of women didn’t like to let their man do shit that relaxed them. I couldn’t be with a woman who made me choose between her and my game. There was a balance every man needed.

Me:

Thank you, beautiful. Why are you on the phone right now? Halftime?

AVA:

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