Page 141 of From Drummer to Gamer

“I don’t understand what’s so important about your gaming that people keep calling me about it and advocating for you every single day,” Mom said with a shake of her head while she sipped on her water. “It’s just a silly hobby.”

It didn’t even hurt anymore.

“Stop,” A low voice said from beside me, and my confused eyes flew to Raphy staring at the table, gritting his teeth hard. “Stop,” he said, sharper and louder.

“Stop what, Raphael?” Mom asked, her brows furrowed.

“Stop what you’re doing.” His eyes locked straight on my mother. “Stop trying to make my sister be someone she’s not. Stop trying to force your lost dreams on her. Stop belittling her dreams. Just stop everything,” he shouted, his fists curling on the table.

My eyes burned, and something hard lodged in my throat.

“Raphael,” Mom snapped. “How dare you speak to your mother this way? I’m only doing what’s best for your sister.”

“Are you really?” he asked in an empty laugh. “Look at her,” he bit out. “Look at my sister. I don’t even recognize her anymore. She’s not sick. She’ssickof you both. My sister…” His voice softened as he slid his gaze to me. “She shines bright. Do you know how happy she was back in New York? Matty gave her the freedom to be herself, to beherin just a few short weeks when you failed for nineteen years. Just let Sierra be. That silly game you keep talking about? It’s not as silly as killing your daughter because you think you know what’s right for her. That silly game has millions of fucking fans, and my sister ranks sixth in the world. She’s the youngest person in the world to rank that high, and she’s the youngest team leader in the entire league. Do you know the thousands of followers she has, people who actually appreciate and love her? Do you know how brilliant and smart she is? How could you ever know when you can’t even see her? When you can’t even see what truly makes her come alive? Hell, she even joined the tournament so she could prove to you she could do this. So tell me Mom, Dad, are you both happy for killing your daughter while she’s still alive?”

Mom had her hand clutched to her chest, and Dad looked red-faced as his panicked eyes met mine.

“Raph…Raphael what are you talking about?” Mom stammered, her eyes wide.

It dawned right then and there that I could not do this anymore. I cannot sit here and ruin my life just because my parents could never accept me for me.

“He’s right,” I said quietly, clearing my throat as I met them head-on. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t sit here and pretend that I want to go to college and study something I don’t even like. I didn’t ask for your support, I didn’t ask for you to accept me, I didn’t ask for you both to be proud of me, I just wanted you both to acknowledge who I am,” I said softly. “To love the parts of me that aren’t societally acceptable or the parts you don’t agree to be normal. To just love me for me. Your weird, loud daughter, who loves to game and is mediocre at school and bad at sports. I just wanted you both to acknowledge that girl, the real Sierra. As much as it hurts for you both to understand, you don’t really know the real me. You just know the girl who walks on eggshells, overanalyzing her every step because she doesn’t want her parents to know the real her. Because the real her is not perfect, and she knows that version of her will only disappoint her parents. And she was right, they are disappointed inher. They are disappointed because she just chose to be her. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’d like to figure that out myself. On my own.”

Mom was openly crying, and Dad looked distraught like someone had killed his favorite pet.

But for the first time in my life, I didn’t let it faze me as I rose to my feet.

“Kiddo…” Dad started, his voice cracking, but I just shook my head and walked out of there.

And I felt free.

“I finally did it,” I said later that night to a motionless Matty staring at me from my closet door. “I said everything I had wanted to say to my parents. If…If you were here would you be proud of me?”

Those soulless green eyes just kept looking at me. Not saying a word.

Not like I expected it to.

After I said my piece, I’d been holed up inside my bedroom. Mom and Dad tried multiple times to talk to me, but I didn’t have the heart or the energy for that. They’d had their chance to talk for many days, so many times when I begged them to listen, but now I felt it was too late.

So I had been staring holes at my bedroom ceiling for the past couple of hours, just feeling so empty.

I missed him.

The more I kept looking at his posters, the more he felt like someone else.

Someone distant.

Like a lifeless version of him.

Like a picture of a man I’d idolized for years.

Not the man I came to know.

I thumbed through my phone till I found the real picture of him, and I couldn’t help the small smile that curved my lips.

My first smile in two whole weeks.

The memory of that picture came flooding back to me. I was trying to be annoying like a paparazzi to sneak dozens of pictures of him because I knew how much he hated cameras in his face but my Matty didn’t complain. Instead, his lips twitched into a small smile, his eyes shining with adoration as he let me have my way with him.

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