It was summer, one of the hottest days of the year, when Riley and I found him for the first time. Barely eight years old, we didn’t even understand what alcohol was. Just one of those things grown-ups drink, like coffee, and tea. But coffee and tea didn’t cause this. Coffee and tea wouldn’t bring your dad on the brink of death.

Because that is what we assumed. He was no more. The way he lay spread out on the ground, his eyes still open, saliva leaking from his mouth. That was what a dead body looked like. No yelling, shaking, or pushing would wake him up, and my mother didn’t pick up the phone. While our infant brains were scarred and scared with the sight of his dead body, we ran across the street.

Of course, Riley’s parents instantly followed their panic-filled daughter and did what they had to. They tried to tell us everything was okay. He was just a little sick, and we should go play while they handled it. Sure, but when you see the lifeless body of your dad getting wheeled into an ambulance, you assume the worst.

It wouldn’t be the last time I found my dad after an alcoholic bender, or even the worst time. But it was the first, the incident after which everything started changing, the one that still affected me the most. From this point on, everything went downhill. Unable to control his addiction, he lost his job, his wife, and for a bit, even his kid.

Alcoholism doesn’t just damage yourself; it also damages those around you. And just like how I would never be the same after that day, neither would my mother. She used to be a lot more carefree, go on trips with her family, or spa weekends with her friends. While my father was still technically alive after that day, my mother’s carefree spirit was not.

I had spent years trying to repress it, to forget it. But just like alcohol itself, repression doesn’t heal the pain, it just numbs it. And the longer that you repress it, the harder reality hits when it rears its ugly head.

I was tapping on the floor with the tip of my shoe. The door to the dressing room of dread stared at me. He was in there right now; all would be well. He’d sign the form, I would get to play, and with one final game, that trophy would be ours. I should be feeling amazing, ready to take on the world, nothing to stop me. Then why, why did I still feel so scared?

The door opened, my dad limped out first, the referee behind him.

“Okay,” the referee looked down towards me, “That’s everything I need, seems like we’re good to go.” He brought up his watch. “So—That’s about five minutes until you need to be on stage again. You better be quick.”

I nodded, grabbed my dad’s hand, and pulled him along with me through the hallway. I didn’t want to speak with him, I didn’t want to look at him. Whenever he was like this, I imagined, when we found him that first time, that he was dead. The man I was dragging along right now might share a body with my father, but he wasn’t him. This was the drunk who abandoned his family, not a dad.

He must have felt ashamed as well, for he couldn’t look at me either, couldn’t speak a word. When we arrived back at the auditorium, Riley and her parents were already waiting for us.

I still found it difficult to look at her. My hands were shaking, my tummy rumbling, and my brain was scrambled. Riley’s presence just made a thousand synapses in my brain fire at once.

“Buddy? How did it go, are you allowed to play?”

I nodded; Riley and her parents returned a smile. Her mom held out her hand to support my dad and walked him to a nearby seat.

“I—” Her father’s eyes flickered back between me, Riley, and my dad. “I’m going to leave you two alone for a minute. Good luck up there.” He motioned towards the stage before turning around to join his wife.

Yes, the match, I needed to get my head out of the gutter. That’s the only thing that matters right now. I turned around and took a step back towards the door. Only for Riley to grab my arm.

“Wait, please, can we talk?” She said, a slight vibrato folded into her voice.

Talk? Right now? I didn’t know if this was the time.

“I just— need to say I’m sorry.”

I looked up at her. Her nose was wrinkled, her eyes wide, a genuine expression of remorse etched into her face. A rare sight, remorseful Riley, a treasure one shouldn’t squander. I motioned towards the door; I’d rather have this conversation away from all the hustle and bustle of the auditorium.

She nodded, and we walked through. We now stood face to face in a concrete-covered hallway, a hallway as empty as her promises.

“I fucked up.” She said while she looked at the floor. After two seconds she met my gaze and continued. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I know how all this—” She waved her hand around and motioned towards the door we just came through. “—stuff. Is very important to you. I was just too absorbed with my own shit and didn’t think about what you needed. I’m sorry for what I did. It was just—”

“—Riley,” saying her name caused her to pause again. “I’m— We’re— we’re fine for now, okay?”

“For now?”

“There is a lot to say.” I felt emotions welling up inside, but I didn’t want to show them. Trying to maintain my composure, I looked away. “But you already said the only thing I really cared about, Thank you.”

“What do you—”

“I need to go, thank you, buddy.”

I started walking away, and just like earlier, Riley grabbed my arm. But this time her grip wasn’t firm. I pulled away, and without a word, she let me go.

I ran through the hallways, my father’s face still flashing in front of my eyes. I tried so hard to push it all away, that I almost walked into the closed door to the breakroom.

“Emily!” The whole team said in unison as I entered. They were all huddled around Rachel, and their worrisome faces were all turned towards me. If pity had a smell, the room would reek of it.

“A referee came by earlier,” Kelsey said. “He said we’re good to go, are you— Good to go?”

I smiled and nodded. It was suddenly all so simple, we just needed to win one game of Dota, nothing more, nothing less. It felt good, leaving real life behind for a second.

Rachel looked at the clock, and back at the team. “There’s no time for a speech, but you know— Y’all don’t need one. So, let’s go, fuck them up!” She yelled out and emphasized the last three words.

An unorganized yell filled the room in response, and we ran towards the stage. The auditorium was fuller than it had ever been. I sat down, and looked around, the mass of people no longer intimidated me, but something else did. Because this time, there were recognizable faces in the crowd. Whenever I looked at them, complicated feelings flooded my brain, drowning out any Dota-related thoughts.

I tried to calm myself down, I focused on my breathing. One, two, three.

A hand landed on my shoulder. I turned around, Rachel’s arched eyebrows met me. “Hey, you got this.”

It was like her touch instantly brought me back to reality. Her collective wisdom once again activated in my brain. “No, that’s where you’re wrong.” I smiled wide as I parroted her words. “We’ve got this.”

***

If there is one thing you learn after playing thousands of hours of Dota, it’s that in some games, things just don’t go your way. I didn’t know if it was the knowledge of my dad’s relapse, all the things I still needed to talk about with Riley, or just the fact that our opponents had some impressive skill of their own, but this game wasn’t it for me.

Magnus wasn’t known for its strong laning phase. So it wasn’t that surprising when I was forced to do some backlaning shenanigans to stay relevant after dying twice in the first four minutes. But when I completely whiffed the first use of my ultimate, I knew things would be rough for a while.

Luckily Dota is a team game, and today, my team was on point. Jade had quickly decided to cut her losses after the terrible laning stage and decided that an early Maelstrom on her Hoodwink could allow her to scale. While a small part of me was annoyed with the fact she didn’t invest more in trying to get me out of my terrible position in this game, I also knew this was technically the right decision. A farmed Hoodwink could be a complete menace to their squad.

Jade found her farm, and even her kills. This set us up for a great late game, as when we were 35 minutes in, she had practically become a fourth core. The only problem was that my impact had become nothing more than being an Empower bot, and using my ultimate once every two minutes. Even though my life had less and less value to both my own team and my opponents, I noticed something strange in Bree’s gameplay. My impact was minimal, but she still targeted me relentlessly in the fights. And I wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

“She just completely ignored me,” Kelsey said while we were beating down Roshan on the back of a successful teamfight. “She’s always running after Emmy, even using her ult to secure the kill.”

A loud roar played over my headset as Roshan was defeated and I responded, “True, it’s like she is a bull running after a red tarp.”

“So, let’s make use of that,” Rachel said. “Get yourself a euls, bait her to omnislash you, skewer away, euls to protect yourself. By the time her ult is over, you can just Reverse Polarity, giving us all the time in the world to take her down. No way their lineup can hold an aegis push with juggernaut dying right at the start.”

“That—” I tilted my head. “Might just work. Let’s do it.”

They were already on the backfoot, and this play could be the final nail in the coffin. I bought the euls scepter. This item would allow me 2.5 seconds of invulnerability when activated. If I did so at the right moment, Bree would be stuck using her ultimate on me.

While we were setting up the push into their base, I was thinking about Bree’s reaction. I could see it happening in front of me. That smug face filled with rage. It made me smile involuntarily. She had no power over me, and neither did Arthur. I was going to show the world that it was me who would be making their own—

“Emmy!” Jade’s loud voice interrupted my train of thought.

The sound of a sword slicing my hero to pieces played over the headset, and before I had even pushed a button, I could see my HP bar had already been cut in half.

Gwenington

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