Page 6 of Balance

Hint. All the guys it went for were cut from the same brand of douche bag cloth. Therefore, if it was now interested in Matthew, he must also be a douche bag.

Except he’d ordered dinner and loaned me a pair of pants. He seemed to actually care a little about other people. Even about impulsive jerks who got him thrown off airplanes.

“What do you do for a living? I assume you were in meetings for work?” I asked. Work was usually a safe topic of conversation. He was probably some kind of finance bro and the minute he started talking about bitcoin my dick would shrivel up into a raisin and tuck itself back into my body. Not that all finance bros were awful, but the ones I’d met were. My dick had gone through a finance bro phase, and I was still a little scarred from it.

“The meetings were kind of for work. I’m a software developer, but sometimes I moonlight as part of a non-profit organization that helps foster kids who are going to age out of the system. We develop support systems for them. The meetings I was in were about the non-profit. We have a sister organization out here, and they’ve been having some financial problems. Money doesn’t go as far as it used to.”

Of fucking course Matthew had a perfect job. Well, not so much the software developer part, but he worked for a non-profit. For foster kids. The only way he’d have been more perfect was if he saved puppies in his spare time.

“What do you do?” Matthew asked me.

Mostly I hated answering this question because of what I did. The younger generations thought it was amazing, but people my age tended to be confused or they’d look down their noses at me.

“I’m a streamer.”

“Like on Twitch?” Matthew asked, not looking confused or disgusted. He also didn’t look excited, just… interested. Like you would be if you wanted to get to know someone.

“Yeah. It kind of happened by accident really. Mostly I game. I have a few different companies who let me beta test for them. It works to both of our benefits. They get early promo for the game and someone to find different bugs that need to be patched, and I get content for my channel.”

“What kind of games?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll play anything. First person shooters. RPGs. Even those cozy games.” I let myself smile a little, and I leaned closer. “Don’t tell anyone, but those are my favorite.”

“Can I ask why?” Matthew grabbed a slice of pizza and bit into it.

I shrugged. “I like that they’re low stakes. I like that they’re so accessible for people who’ve maybe never gamed a lot before. And not everyone who wants to game wants to shoot things all the time. Sometimes you just want to run your own little cat cafe.”

“Do you have a big following?” he asked.

Getting a positive reaction from someone who looked to be at least a few years older than me was so rare that it took me a moment to gather my scattered thoughts. Matthew’s easy acceptance of my career was kind of throwing me off.

“I’m not the biggest, by any stretch, but I do okay. Right now on all my platforms, if you add up all my different followings, I have just over ten million followers.”

Matthew’s eyebrows rose up to meet his hairline. “Ten million. That’s impressive. And not easy to do.”

How effortlessly he offered his praise felt like a gut punch. Why couldn’t other people in my life be as nice about my job as Matthew was? My parents were disappointed that I didn’t become a doctor—ew, blood. Or a lawyer—ew, blood, or something else prestigious and important. Hell, at this point, I thought they’d be happy if I bought a hot dog cart. At least then they’d be able to tell people that their son finally had what they called a real job.

“Thanks.” My voice was barely a whisper, and I had to clear my throat to make it normal again. I picked at my fries and thought about Matthew and his two jobs and the way he hadn’t looked down on me when he found out that I gamed. And he hadn’t laughed when I told him that I liked cozy games.

Cozy games.

“Hey, uh, you said you develop software, right? Do you make games?” Matthew made an affirming noise around a mouthful of food. His lips tipped up into a half-smile as he chewed. “Well, what if you made a game for the non-profit? If it’s about, like, supporting foster kids, maybe in the game you are the foster kid and you just work at levelling up your character. But you make it fun and kind of whimsical. Like maybe all the characters are mushrooms, and you have to teach your mushroom how to live in the forest.” I stopped talking, noting the way Matthew stared at me like maybe I’d grown a second head.

“Or not. It was dumb.”

“It was brilliant,” he said. He practically flung himself out of bed and grabbed his laptop from his carry-on. “Tell me more. I’ll give you full credit. I’ll even buy the idea off you. Or, actually, I’ll hire you as a consultant. Yes. Troye… whatever your last name is, do you want to work with me?”

Despite my building excitement, I furrowed my brow. Call me skeptical, but first I wanted to know who exactly Matthew was. “What company do you work for?” I asked.

He got a strange look on his face. “Gemstone Games.”

“You work for Gemstone?” I gaped at him. Gemstone made some of my favorite games of all time. They currently didn’t have any cozy games, though, which was a shame.

“Gemstone is mine, actually.”

“Matthew… Kincaid. You’re Matthew Kincaid?” No wonder he didn’t look down on my career choice. He was a game developer. He was the game developer.

Oh, God, and I was wearing his pants.