Page 7 of Balance

CHAPTER 4

MATTHEW

Troye blinked at me, and I half expected him to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming. I wasn’t really used to people knowing who I was—or caring.

But his idea about a cozy game to benefit the non-profit was so fucking genius that I was a little pissed I hadn’t thought of it myself. A lot of these kids had been through enough shit that making a violence-based game to their benefit sounded uncouth. But a cozy game? A game about building community, forging relationships, expanding skill sets. A game about making friends and flourishing? That would pair up nicely with the mission of the non-profit.

“You’d really hire me as a consultant?” Troye asked, his voice filled with wonder and confusion. “I’m not really an expert.”

“How many hours have you put into playing cozy games?”

He blushed and looked away. “It’s ah—not a small number. I couldn’t tell you exactly.”

“How many different cozy games have you played?”

Troye’s eyes lit up. “I’ve played most of them, to be honest. Even the ones that I didn’t think I’d like, I played. I don’t always stream them.” Troye’s blush returned with a vengeance, like it was something to be embarrassed about.

“You’ve logged countless hours on nearly every game in the genre. You’re an expert.”

“I don’t know the first thing about writing a game.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what I’m for. All you have to do is tell me what works. What doesn’t. What makes a good cozy game? What makes a bad one? Tell me more about the mushrooms."

“Well, it doesn’t have to be mushrooms. Really I only thought of them because of the mushroom alfredo. But…” He took a breath and closed the takeout container. He’d eaten his entire burger and all but a few of his fries, even the pickle. He shifted around to face me and sat cross-legged on the bed.

“Okay, so, if your character was a little mushroom, it would have to learn how to survive in the forest. Maybe there’s a small village you live in with the other mushrooms, or maybe you come in from the forest and you have to learn how to live in the village. That might work better. You’re a lost little mushroom, and you stumble on this town in the forest and it’s full of people, sorry, mushrooms that you don’t know. Maybe other things live there too. Maybe the village welcomes you and the whole game is centered around bartering labor and items you gather for other items that you can use to decorate your mushroom house.”

“That’s… fucking brilliant. I like the idea of a mushroom ending up in a community and having to navigate that. It... fits.” My fingers flew across the keys as I typed out rough notes for the game. Troye’s idea was smart as hell.

“You really like the idea?”

His hesitation stopped me dead. He reminded me of some of the foster kids I’d met. So used to being told only bad things about themselves, if you praised them, they didn’t know what to do with it.

“I love the idea.” I emphasized the word love, hoping that he’d understand I meant it. “It’s relevant to the non-profit’s mission. It’s something that will be easy to market. And I think I could get some of the foster kids involved in beta testing and writing some of the storyline for it.”

Troye lit up like it was Christmas Day. Even sitting cross-legged, I could see the way he practically vibrated with excitement as he started lobbing more ideas at me. Had he never had someone listen to him or take him seriously before? That thought pissed me off as much as it made me sad for him.

“The village could have a wishing well. And users need to spend real money to make wishes in the wishing well. Because like… if you’re going to spend money on a game, I think it would be kind of neat to know that your little mushroom can help people in the real world get their wish.”

Looking up from my laptop, I stopped typing and smiled at Troye. “You’re good at this.”

He shrugged and his expression flattened. “I mean, all I do is play video games.”

“I think you meant that all you do is cultivate an online presence that keeps millions of people engaged in the content you create. It’s not easy to put yourself on camera day after day. If it was easy, everyone would be good at it.”

Troye didn’t say anything for the longest time. He simply stared at me and blinked a few times like he was trying to decide if I was real.

“You’re good at what you do. And what you do is examine the gaming experience from the most important point of view. The consumers. Sometimes, us developers, at least this particular one, can get mired in the technical bits. The coding. The graphics. Making sure everything looks and runs smooth. And then you realize that sure it looks nice, but the beta testers have nothing to sink their teeth into. And let me tell you, it’s easier to fix a bug than it is to try and reimagine a whole game to make it something that will keep players engaged.” I stopped talking suddenly and smiled at Troye in what I hope looked apologetic. “Sorry, sometimes I get talking and I forget that other people don’t like the sound of my voice nearly as much as I like it.”

“You have a good voice,” Troye said. He cleared his throat. “I mean—like for streaming and stuff too. Oh.”

He gasped and I could almost see the lightbulb flash up next to him. “When the game is ready for beta testing, you could come on my channel and stream it with me. We could do split screens, and if the game has a multiplayer mode, like a world where you’re not the only mushroom player, then you can help each other complete tasks and stuff.”

“Just when I think there’s no way you could think of anything to make this better, you go and prove me wrong. I’m going to sound like a broken record and tell you again how brilliant all this is.”

“It’s nothing.”

I had the incredible urge to reach out to Troye and smooth the furrow from his brow. I wanted him to stop looking down, to quit curling in on himself and making himself smaller.