Page 11 of Broken Obsession

Ransom, his character, was cool and all—when he wasn’t spouting gag-inducing romantic lines—but seven years in, and Eden was pretty much over it.

If only he didn’t need the money.

It was good coin too.

There was also the fact that he was still friends with the creator, Yarrow. Vanity had started out as a project their freshman year of college, when he and Yarrow had been assigned as roommates. It’d been little more than a roughconcept then, something Yarrow had worked on all throughout their university careers, until he’d been able to present a demo version as his final project in their senior year.

Initially, Eden had agreed to let him model Ransom off his physical appearance out of a desire to befriend his new roommate. Later, when it’d gotten more intense, and he’d been asked if some personality traits could also be used, it hadn’t seemed like a big deal. He supposed it really wasn’t, in the grand scheme of things.

At night, he got himself through by trying to convince himself this job wasn’t too far removed from the one he’d always dreamed of having as a kid. Sure, he wasn’t using his voice in quite the way he’d pictured it, but at least he was still being paid for it.

A paycheck that was funding his new dream.

Revenge.

A dream he may be one step closer to achieving.

Or…not.

It’d been days since he’d heard from the masked stranger. At first, Eden had feared the cops showing up on his doorstep, demanding answers he didn’t have, but when that didn’t happen, and the worry had faded…He’d been left with a different sort of anxiety.

“Sounds great,” Mu, the sound producer on the other side of the glass, clicked a button and said once Eden had finished up. “Thanks, man. That’ll be all for the day.”

Eden took the headset off and placed it on the music stand before exiting the small room, trying not to think about what he’d done last night.

Alone.

With the sex toy he’d splurged on.

He didn’t even know how it’d happened. One minute, he’d been picturing his favorite celebrity crush, Yuze Quint,pinning him down, forcing him to take it, and the next, the image had been replaced by the masked stranger.

Eden hadn’t even gotten a good enough look at him to properly fantasize about him, and yet that didn’t seem to stop his mind from doing so. He’d opted to give the guy a name in his head, so he wasn’t always referring to him as “masked stranger” and had landed on Lucifer. It seemed fitting, all things considered.

Until Eden had cried out his name.

His fake name.

Given to a faceless masked murderer who may or may not have Eden as his intended next victim.

Fuck, what was wrong with him?

“This banner is going to be a hit,” Noon caught Eden’s attention as he joined him in the main room. “They’ve got Six and the player catching an android spy on a speed train. What about Ransom’s plotline?”

“Taking shelter in an abandoned mall after a failed mission,” Eden indulged him, grateful for the distraction. “They find an arcade.”

Vanity’s plotline was fairly simple. It took place on a planet overrun with androids trying to take control. The appeal to the game, the thing that set it apart from other action RPGs, was the rich story and the otome features. The player built affection points with four different love interests, or LIs, and joined monthly events where Memories, or date cards, could be won through a lottery system.

Ransom and Six were two of the LIs, with Ransom being the most popular of the lot. .

“Nice. Please tell me there’s a karaoke game?”

“Already recorded two different songs for it.” He’d spent the better part of the weekend on those, but the fans alwaysloved it when Ransom sang, and since Eden loved to do it… “Players will get two different play modes.”

“Real fans will try them both.” Noon whistled. “Yarrow knows how to milk our strengths, I’ll give him that. Anyway, pizza?”

“No, I have—” Eden was cut short when the door opened before they could reach it, and Yarrow’s assistant, Ismay, walked in.

“Hey, boys.” She popped the bright yellow gum she was chewing and held out a holopad to Noon, who was standing a step closer. “Just need your signatures. You know the drill.”