This is not a game

The Age of Glory: Contract

The contract looks too good to be true, and Eli senses a catch. But his curiosity and self-destructive tendencies are too strong for him to wisely decline such a suspiciously tempting offer. Guardians of the Millennium — a strong team, though constantly placing second or third — are offering him a spot in the main lineup for the upcoming championship. The offer would seem a lot less suspicious if it were precluded by any sort of a team interview. The offer would also seem a lot less suspicious if Eli hadn't been kicked out of five pro teams in the past three years. For a few seconds, he seriously considers that recruiting him is just a way to keep him out of solo tournaments, but then brushes that thought aside. None of his main competitors this season are from the Guardians.

He circles around the enticing email for a good couple of hours before finally taking the bait. The next day, he heads out to meet his new team. There are about seven months left before the championship, and the captain — someone he's not particularly familiar with, a guy with a game handle Geralt — insists that the main and reserve squads practice in the same facility. It's written into the contract as a condition, and Eli isn't thrilled, but he doesn't think it would be a problem. At least, not until he follows the receptionist — a sweet-looking girl — into a small but proper captain's office. And not until said captain, once alone with him, opens his mouth.

"Eli Hughes," the man says, without taking his eyes off the slim stack of papers in his hands, clearly finishing up something important. Eli's heart drops to his stomach, though he doesn't immediately understand why. The voice sounds familiar, but the recognition lags behind by a good fifteen seconds, and by the time it hits Eli, the captain has already finished with his papers, invited him to sit at the table, and is now seated across from him, studying him carefully.

It hits Eli hard, and he can only stare helplessly in response, while his brain drums in rhythm: "Why, why, why? What?! What's happening?! Why, why, why?!"

"Everything okay?" The Guardians' captain arches a perfect brow, and that both destroys Eli and brings him back to reality.

"Y-yeah," Eli lies unconvincingly, forcing down the hysterical "Silver?" that nearly escapes his lips. Did he imagine it? He's been obsessed with this voice for months, so it's entirely possible he mistook someone similar for him. But... he's been obsessed with this voice for months — how could he confuse it with anyone else's? Matching this voice to the absolutely stunning man sitting in front of him isn't helping him to regain sanity.

The captain is now looking at him with confusion and mild irritation, and Eli is horrified yet relieved by the thought that he is probably going to send him home, making use of the three-day window before the contract fully kicks in. But instead, the captain tilts his head, scrutinizes him for about ten seconds, then sighs and returns to business, as if nothing happened.

For the rest of the meeting, Eli nods and tries to listen carefully. He flips through the papers he's been handed on autopilot: game schedules, practice schedules, general schedules; rules of conduct at the headquarters, rules of conduct online, a list of logins and names of the team members, phone numbers for the captain and the team manager, menus for nearby takeaway places.

"If there are no more questions..." After a pause, Silver — no, Eli has to think of him as Geralt or maybe Silvester, which sounds totally fake, by the way, but it's how the man introduces himself — continues. Eli settles on "Silvester" since it feels familiar. The longer name twists awkwardly on his tongue, and he can sense a story behind it, but he doesn't dare ask. He would have asked Silver. "...it's time to meet the rest of the team."

Eli gets home late that evening, eats some fried rice he bought on the way in a state of total daze, brushes his teeth, sits down at his keyboard, and stares at Silver's offline status in his friends list. A dozen questions whirl through his mind, for both Silver and himself. Does Silver know who he's hired? If he does, why didn't he acknowledge it? Should Eli bring it up? Why didn't he say anything right away? How weird would it be to say something now? What if he's wrong? What if, when Silver realizes who he is, he cancels the contract because...

Eli can list a few reasons off the top of his head: to avoid mixing work with their weird not-quite-friendship, not-quite-rivalry; to avoid weighing the team down with a chatterbox whom he barely tolerates outside of it; to avoid being pestered by him even more. Or simply so Eli doesn't leak Silver's personal login (he'd never do that, but Silver has no reason to believe it).

Will Silver nullify the contract if he finds out? Will he also stop playing with Icebreaker just in case? Or maybe he'll let Eli stay on the team but cut off all contact outside of it? Eli doesn't want that. He's gotten used to their strange whatevership, to Silver's presence in his life. He's gotten used to his calm voice, which adds a sharp edge of dialogue into Eli's endless monologues. He's gotten used to needing to give his all to win in the arena, and even that doesn't always cut it. He's gotten used to falling asleep with thoughts of the person behind that voice... and now that person has a face, and in all his fantasies and shameless attempts to flirt slash annoy Silver, Eli never imagined that face would look like that. It's like it was specifically designed to take his fantasies to the next level. Five levels up, at least, actually.

The red circle on his screen turns green, and for once, Eli just stares at it for a while, saying nothing.

"Arena?" comes a short message in the chat a few minutes later. He swallows his nerves and types his usual response:
"Can't sleep without me kicking your ass in the dirt? It'll be my pleasure."
"We'll see."

Eli smirks and relaxes a little. Half an hour later, his nerves are gone. It's his ass that ends up handed to him twice in a row tonight, but he pulls it together in the end, winning the last match before they log off. With that, it's clear that Silver still doesn't know. That makes the answers to all those questions spinning in his head much simpler: Eli isn't planning to enlighten him yet, so their relationship doesn't have to change... except for the chance to learn more about him. Eli is determined to make the most of that chance while he's still on the team: listening to the object of his affection without the filter of headphones and miles of wires. Seeing him. Matching his voice to his expressions. Memorizing his habits. And maybe, just maybe, making friends with him a little in real life, too.