Opus

17. Field Advantage

Uncomfortable first date. Hopeful second. And the third? We'll see. Jasper and I are in a coffee shop. So far so good. I'm exhausted, though. I made the cut, but the ninth set was gruesome. I kept expecting players to blow up. Silly, right? The Competition ruled the target defective. Since nobody saw what happened, who's going to contradict them? Not me. I want wee.

Rule 13: Cameras, flashlights, recording and any other electronic, lighting, or other technological (existing or upcoming) devices are forbidden in the underground playground. Offenders will be kicked out of the competition and ban for life.

"People are staring at you," I remark. Jasper's not movie-star handsome, but he has confidence and an I-don't-give-a-shit cockiness that draws attention. Male and female in equal part.

"Wrong. They're staring at you, doll."

I'm about to deny his assertion, but on a quick survey, I make eye contact with first, a woman at the next table who nods approvingly at me. Second, I catch a chubby, balding guy ogling me from across the room. He blushes where our eyes meet. Blushes! Jaz is right.

I surreptitiously pat my hair, rub my face and brush my tongue over my teeth. Everything seems to be presentable. I'm not usually coquettish but still. "Why?"

"You're a celebrity now, Princess. Get used to it."

"Celebrity? How?"

"You made the top."

"So? I'm fifth. Besides, players are anonymous."

He chuckles. "Who the fuck told you that?"

Some players walk around with their player ID badge pinned to their puffed chest. I don't.

"Damn, you're naïve. It's cute."

"Fuck you."

We sip our coffee in silence, Jaz smirking, I more and more squirming on my seat.

I break first. "Let's get out of here."

"You're pretty when you're red-faced."

"Put a sock in it, Jasper."

"Yes, ma'am."

He's such a jerk. "You're such a jerk."

"Yah, I know." He winks at me before turning serious. "Are your buddies at your place this time of day?"

"Don't know. Why? You don't like them?"

"I don't give a shit about them. They're furniture." At my blank stare, he adds, "Furniture is dead weight. The same as groupies but with less personality."

"Wow, that's harsh." But somewhat accurate. "I'll have you know they're loyal."

"To whom? You? Ken? Themselves?"

"Yah."

"Let's go to my place then. I know you, doll, and I believe you'd rather they not hear when you scream my name."

"Now who's naïve?"

You know how they say three times's the charm? Well, four is still my all-time favorite number. Bree, Gav, Harry, David. Jasper tops them all. Four times! An epic finale on all four. The guy had been holding back on me that first time. Then again, so had I. Tonight, we reached the stars and sang our swan song. And what an opus it was.

"See you on the other side, referee," I whisper into Jaz's skin, next to the four-leaf clover I drew with a marker on his left ass cheek. He doesn't wake.

It's my turn to leave at the crack of dawn. Jasper is one complication I do not need. Too bad. We could have been grand.