The Arena Lights Never Shone on Me

Ken Butler and I dated in secret for three years, on the same esports team.

He was the genius rookie, the seeded star. I was the life-support assistant who poured the tea and carried the water.

In private, when no one was around, he told me more than once, soft and coaxing.

The glory on the stage belongs to the crowd.

"But my weak spot and my real heart, those are only yours."

So I held Ken's dream up with everything I had.

Then a new girl joined the team. Myrtle Swanson.

One name cold, one name blaze, and their personalities matched.

Everyone said the two of them had that couple chemistry.

Ken waved it off and pulled me in close to soothe me. "Don't be jealous. You're the only one I love."

But the name Myrtle came out of his mouth more and more often.

Early one morning, Ken suddenly announced the team wanted buns.

I worked at it until deep into the night, and Myrtle only took one bite, frowned, and spat it out.

Ken hurried to throw every last bun into the trash.

My fingers locked hard around the cold door handle.

In that moment, I suddenly understood. A bun goes cold, you can still eat it.

But... once a person changes, there's no keeping them.

...

I swallowed the bun down in a few bites.

The savory taste of pork and mushroom spread slowly across my tongue.

It was Ken's favorite.

I leaned against the hallway wall.

My shoulders sagged without my meaning them to.

The lounge door opened.

Ken saw me, and his eyes drifted everywhere but at me.

Once he saw the hall was empty, he took a few steps closer.

"Summer Sullivan, I want the breakfast bagels from Harmony Bakery."

"Remember, no sauce."

The corner of my mouth pulled down into something cold.

"Were the buns good?"

Ken's throat rolled tight as he swallowed.

"They were good. Just didn't fill me up."

He faked it well.

Well enough that I almost thought I'd seen it wrong.

A few more figures came into the hall.

Some of the other players spotted Ken and slung their arms over his shoulders.

"Ken, what're you up to?"

Ken leaned back a little and raised his voice.

"Assistant Sullivan, don't forget to buy me breakfast."

Then he turned and walked off toward the training room with his teammates.

I watched the back of him going down the hall.

My spine curved a little, for no reason at all.

In the end, I still walked out the company doors.

Harmony Bakery was on the east side of town, the company on the west.

I took a cab to Harmony Bakery.

I'd just bought breakfast when my phone started buzzing nonstop in my pocket.

Messages kept popping up in the team group chat.

One after another, people called out their breakfast orders.

Every kind of picky demand came at me at once.

I skimmed them and bought each one exactly as asked.

By the time I wanted to leave, thin threads of rain had started to fall.

I climbed into the ride-hailing car with the big bags of breakfast.

Just short of the company, the road jammed and didn't move an inch.

It was clear traffic wouldn't clear anytime soon.

I gritted my teeth and pushed the door open.

It was only three kilometers left to the company. A shared bike would get me there fast.

The second I got on the bike, the rain came down in sheets.

It struck my face, stinging so hard I couldn't keep my eyes open.

I squinted and pushed forward, slow.

Almost at the company building, anxious about the time,

my wheel skidded and I went down hard on the ground.

My phone kept buzzing.

More messages in the group chat, pushing me to hurry.

I couldn't spare a thought for my own scrapes. I braced against the ground and got up.

By the time I knocked on the training room door,

I was already soaked through like a drowned rat.

"Breakfast's here."

Ken's voice came first.

"Why so slow?"

When the door opened, his gaze went a little blank.

I wiped a hand over my rain-smeared face and held the breakfast out to him.

He frowned and said nothing.

It was the others who jumped when they saw me.

"Summer, go change your clothes, quick."

I nodded and turned away without a word.

In the changing room, a message flashed up on my phone screen.

The contact name read "My Favorite Baby."

It was Ken, sneaking me a message to comfort me.

"Don't catch a cold."

"There are a lot of people around the team. This is all I can do."

I dried my half-wet hair, my expression a little dazed.

In the end I didn't reply.

I just scrolled quietly through my phone.

Myrtle had posted a new update to her feed.

"Turns out somebody really does remember my little habits!"

The picture with it was the breakfast bagels I'd bought.

The exact one Ken had gone out of his way to specify when he told me to get breakfast.

So it turned out he'd bought it for Myrtle.

My fingertips grew heavier and heavier.

Screenshot. Send.

At the top of the chat, it kept showing that he was typing.

Ken only sent back a few words.

"We'll talk when we get home."

I stared for a moment, then deleted that cloying contact name.

Eleven thirty. Back to work again.

I gripped the mop and walked into the training room.

Ken glanced up at me, then pulled his eyes away fast.

The match ended, and everyone stood to go eat.

Ken had just straightened up when his body suddenly swayed.

I was standing right beside him, and my hand went out on instinct.

But he spent his last scrap of strength tilting away.

Falling straight into Myrtle's arms.

"Ken, what's wrong!"

He lay against her, fine cold sweat beading along his brow.

Out of long habit, I fished out the chocolate I always kept in my pocket.

Peeled the wrapper, slid it steadily between his lips.

Years of brutal training.

Ken's blood sugar crashed again and again.

For three years, I'd always carried chocolate on me.

Back in the day, dizzy after training, he'd always lean quietly against me.

And I'd feed him the sugar, the two of us silent.

But now he'd given his own breakfast to Myrtle.

Even fainting, he'd run to her on instinct.

Once the chocolate was in him, his color eased a little.

Myrtle held him, then turned her head to give me an order.

"Summer, could you go get a cup of hot water?"

I hurried out and brought back the hot water.

When I pushed the door open again, Ken looked much better.

But he was still leaning in Myrtle's arms.

He raised his eyes and asked her, low and full of concern.

"Did I hurt you when I fell?"

"Good thing you ate breakfast, or what if you'd fainted too?"

The water inside the cup was scalding.

And yet my hands were strangely cold.

Ken, I'm starting to not want you anymore.

Around us, the other players stood tense.

"The match is about to start. What happened with breakfast?"

"Ken's our star. If this throws off the game, who's going to answer for it?"

His fingers picked restlessly at the edge of his nail.

I looked at Ken before I could stop myself.

He turned his head, dodging my eyes.

Myrtle spoke up, cold.

"He hits a snag right before a match. What kind of assistant are you?"

"One more time like this and we should just replace you."

I kept my eyes down, my jaw locked tight.

I didn't argue. I said nothing.

I only set the hot water on the desk without a word.

Then bent my head and went back to tidying the training room desks.

Little black spots swam in front of me, and my head throbbed and went light.

I gritted my teeth and kept wiping down the mouse.

Myrtle brushed past, her arm knocking into mine.

The mouse slipped from my hand and hit the floor hard.

I bent to pick it up.

Ken moved faster than I did.

He cradled the mouse, his fingertip running over the fresh scratch on the shell.

His face darkened in an instant.

"Can't you be a little more careful?"

"This is Myrtle's mouse. She's had it a long time."

My head was still spinning.

I could only stand there, unable to get a single word out.

Ken turned to Myrtle, his voice gentle.

"Use mine for now."

"I'll buy you a new one later."

His hand pressed against the edge of the desk, gripping just slightly.

To Ken, a mouse was like a third hand.

Normally he'd stop me the second I so much as touched it.

Now he was giving it away without a thought.

I didn't say anything more. I just turned and left.

I checked my temperature. A hundred and two.

I took sick leave and went home, collapsing onto the couch.

The memories flickered past me, frame by frame.

The last time I'd run a fever this high was senior year of college.

There'd been rain like this then, too.

The tuition I'd earned busing tables had been stolen.

My parents had given that money to my younger brother for summer camp.

I knelt in the yard for three hours.

In the end all I got was two words. "No money."

No one could help me.

Ken and I were still only friends from online back then.

He heard what had happened to me and, without a word, wired me ten thousand dollars.

He wasn't much older than me at the time.

Every cent of it he'd earned as a paid gaming partner, pounded out key by key.

He said:

"It's fine. From now on, I've got you covered."

My eyes stung with wet.

The door pushed open. Ken was home.

He tucked a blanket over me and laid the back of his hand against my forehead.

"Why are you so hot?"

He fumbled around and mixed me a packet of cold medicine.

I closed my eyes, and a thin thread of hope rose in me despite everything.

Really, Ken still loved me.

The next second, he opened his laptop again.

Every so often his voice drifted over.

"Myrtle, that shot just now was sick!"

The corner of my mouth pulled down.

Myrtle again.

Cold sweat soaked through me, and I dragged myself up to find a towel.

I clipped the corner of the desk and went down onto the floor.

Ken shut off the game and rushed over to me.

He saw my flushed face and frowned.

"How did you get this bad?"

"I'll go buy more medicine."

He bolted out the door.

I lay on the couch, sweat soaking the back of my shirt again and again.

Two hours passed.

With shaking hands, I ordered delivery to bring me medicine.

By the time I'd taken it, Ken still hadn't come back.

I lifted my hand and called him.

No answer.

I let the screen go dark and curled up in bed.

Somewhere in the haze, Ken came back.

He held me tight, his tears wetting the front of my shirt.

"Summer, get better soon."

I reached up to hold him back.

But my arms closed on nothing.

Two in the morning.

The one who should have been by the bed still hadn't come home.

I pulled the blanket tight and buried my head.

The next day, I woke very early.

I got to the company far earlier than usual.

I stopped at the convenience store for breakfast on the way.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ken and Myrtle walking out of the hotel next door together.

Both of them had heavy dark circles under their eyes.

Myrtle went into the company first.

Ken stayed where he was and ran straight into me, caught off guard.

His face tightened all at once, and he hurried two steps toward me.

"I ran into Myrtle last night and helped her pick out a mouse."

"It got so late we just went to the gaming hotel."

"We only played games. Nothing happened."

His hands were empty. Not a single capsule in them.

I was home burning up with fever while he spent the night in the same room as another woman.

Every bit of hurt and misery surged up at once.

I couldn't keep my voice from shaking.

"Let's break up."

Ken's face showed no panic, only a flicker of impatience.

"What are you sulking about now."

"Don't overthink it. There's really nothing between me and her."

"The match is almost here. Don't throw a fit at a time like this."

He turned and walked off, leaving only the back of him.

Ken, I'm not throwing a fit.

I just think.

It's more reliable to cover myself.

I dug out a contact buried deep in my messages.

"Are you guys still looking for a life-support assistant?"

When the answer came back yes, I let out a breath.

The first thing I did when I got to the office was hand in my resignation.

It went through easily.

As long as I finished this last match, I could leave.

Inside the lounge.

Ken and Myrtle's seats were right next to each other.

Neither of them said a word, but the air still bubbled pink.

Around noon, a few new topics climbed the trending page.

Photos of Ken and Myrtle outside the hotel had gone up online.

Their couple following swelled and swelled.

Management had a plan ready right away.

Let them play up the fake-couple angle, ride the heat.

Myrtle said nothing, which meant she agreed.

Ken's gaze swept over me, then pulled back.

Then he nodded too.

More and more people at the company were shipping them.

"Assistant Sullivan, see, I told you the two of them fit."

"The hot, cocky duelist and the cold, delicate sentinel."

"This ship, it's so good!"

I nodded along and went out the door.

Ken came right after me.

He pulled me up to the rooftop, a cigarette between his fingers.

"Summer, it's just a fake-couple thing."

"I'm doing it for work too. Just wait a little longer."

"Sooner or later, I'll make us official."

I rubbed my wrist and spoke coldly.

"It's fine. We already broke up anyway."

I turned to leave. Behind me, Ken flew into an embarrassed rage.

"Summer Sullivan, is making a scene like this fun for you."

"If you've got the nerve, don't come looking for me!"

After that rooftop talk, Ken and I didn't say a single word to each other.

Every day he was glued to Myrtle.

The two of them interacted constantly on social media.

He didn't even come home at night anymore.

He stayed at the company every day, training with Myrtle deep into the night.

I packed up Ken's things.

This was my rented place.

If anyone was leaving, it was him.

Their heat stayed high, no sign of dropping.

Management made a last-minute call to run a gaming livestream.

He pointed at me offhand.

"Summer Sullivan, you join them for this one later."

"Someone's out today. You fill the slot."

I was about to refuse when Ken spoke first.

"She can't. She doesn't know how to do anything."

"All she does is drag us down."

Myrtle patted his shoulder affectionately.

"Kenny, don't say that."

"We're the twin stars anyway. Can't we carry her?"

Under pressure from Myrtle and management.

Ken gave a grudging nod.

No one asked what I thought.

By the time I came back to myself, the mouse was already in my hand.

In the game, I moved the character stiffly.

Killed again.

Myrtle sighed.

Ken slammed his fist down on the desk.

"Summer Sullivan, what are you doing, they're right in your face!"

"If you're trash, then practice more!"

I didn't know how to explain.

This game was too hard for me.

The livestream comments kept jumping into view.

"Is this healer an idiot or something, doesn't know anything."

"Same, both girls, how is my goddess Myrtle so good."

"Such an eyesore, stop dragging the team down."

I crouched in a corner and, after a struggle, finally got a kill.

Ken let out a scornful laugh.

"An idiot really does counter a pro."

The next second, Myrtle's character got killed.

Ken didn't blame her at all, just soothed her gently.

"It's fine. I'll cover you."

He landed a clean quadra kill, the kill sound effect ringing on and on.

The comments went even wilder.

"Damn, Ken is so cool!"

"He was so gentle just now comforting Myrtle."

"I want a boyfriend like that!"

"+1"

""

The game ended, and I went to the restroom.

I wanted to play well too.

But before this I'd barely even gotten to touch a computer.

I'd begged Ken so many times to teach me.

All he ever said was that I couldn't do it.

But if he wouldn't teach me, how was I ever supposed to learn.

Match day.

Ken was busy soothing Myrtle.

"Don't be nervous. My first match, I was just like you."

"Just play the way you always do."

"Besides, you've got me."

Before he took the stage, Ken hung back a few steps and stopped in front of me.

"Summer, you win."

"When the match is over, I'll admit I was wrong."

Then he walked straight past me.

I kept my head down, thumbing at my phone. I had nothing to say.

The second Ken and Myrtle walked out, the crowd roared louder.

They wore matching couple outfits, feeding the audience sugar in front of everyone.

But on the stage, Myrtle kept missing.

The coach called a timeout, running through tactics again and again.

"Myrtle, are you okay?"

"If you're not, we'll sub in a backup."

Myrtle nodded and went back in early.

This time her aim was sharper.

Not a single miss.

When they took the win, Ken threw his arms around her.

Just as they were about to hand over the trophy.

The opposing team called a halt.

They said someone had been cheating.

Myrtle's shoulders started to tremble.

After the staff ran their check, they confirmed it: Myrtle had cheated.

The scandal broke, and Myrtle fainted on the spot.

But the moment I got back to the company.

The talk online had flipped again.

Everyone was saying I'd been jealous of Myrtle.

That I'd tried to steal Ken and failed, so I'd rigged the cheat to frame her.

My breathing went ragged. I was about to go find the person in charge.

Ken blocked my way.

"You broke Myrtle's mouse before the match."

"That's why she panicked and slipped."

"I had someone post it. You're not clean in this either."

I dropped into the chair.

My eyes went cold on him.

He knew perfectly well none of this was on me.

Myrtle just wanted the win too badly.

"Why pin it on me?"

Ken pinched at his brow.

"Myrtle isn't like you. She has talent."

"You're only an assistant. This is the cleanest way to handle it."

I couldn't hold back the sneer.

"And did you ever ask me what I thought?"

Ken's hands clamped down hard on my shoulders.

"Enough. I'm just informing you."

"Is your opinion really worth that much?"

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even have finished school."

"Don't be so selfish. No wonder your parents never loved you."

Each fine little word drove in until I was all thorns.

When he finished, something like regret flickered across his face.

"Nobody online is going to keep watching you."

"You've still got me, anyway."

Then he turned and left.

I covered my face, tears leaking out between my fingers.

I raised a hand and pressed stop on the screen recording.

The company put out a formal statement.

Overnight I became the cheating dog everyone wanted to beat.

Everyone looked at me like they were looking at trash.

I finished the handover and left the company.

HR from the new team messaged me.

"When can you start?"

I typed back.

"Right now everyone's saying I'm the one who cheated."

The reply came in a second.

"You're just taking the fall."

"We've already got a plan for it. Just come in tomorrow and start."

That night, a new post hit the trending page.

Myrtle cheated, Ken covered for her.

Their two names, side by side once again......