“Well, the good news is we definitely have something in common. Our mutual dislike.” He and I laughed. “I need your help, though, Asher. We need this game to be a success. The company does for sure, and Kat and I have a lot at stake here. Can I please count on you?”
Could flat-out asking for his support backfire on me? With zero leverage, I couldn’t even give him a freebie sick day. This all hinged on whether he would be okay with doing the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing. I’d be willing to set aside our differences if we could work this out.
He snorted out his nose. Was that a sarcastic snort? Goddamn Asher poker face.
Then, he sighed deeply. “Look, I get it. And as much as we can’t stand each other, I don’t want this game to fail because a bunch of misogynistic assholes brought it down for the wrong reasons. I have twin sisters who are seniors in high school, and well, all that loathing these fuckers are spewing out online for the entire world to see isn’t okay. So count me in on your crusade. But with some conditions. I want to be the game spokesperson and handle the media interviews. I think you’d be bad at that.”
He was right. The second I flubbed up an interview, the trolls would skewer me for it. And if Asher could take that responsibility from me, no problem.
He added, “AND . . . you need to convince Jane and Sean not to make us dance together at their wedding. Because I hate dancing, and it would just be weird, us twirling around with fake smiles on our faces when we can barely stand each other.”
Yes. He was right about that, too. Another good idea.
“I’ll do my best. I’ll even give you a sort-of sick day today. Just work from home, and if anyone looks for you, I’ll tell them you looked like you were dying. Sound good?”
He gave me a weak smile, and his puke-colored face lit up as much as it could. He took only a nanosecond to undock his laptop, shove it into his backpack, and rush out the door. His chair spun for a solid ten seconds after he ran out the door. I went to the conference room anyway so I wouldn’t inhale more of his germs.
I’d just made a deal with a demi-devil. You’re welcome, bro.
As I plowed through my email backlog, a new email alert from Nolan came through. Instead of a friendly hello, it was an email about the newsletter and website.
Hello Melody,
I’ve attached the rollout plans for the e-newsletter and Ultimate Apocalypse game website. Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns.
Regards,
Nolan
Ouch. Each formal and distant word, hard punches in the gut.
I opened the attachment. There were timelines with deliverables and dates, as well as a few gorgeous design comps. I’d never seen a preliminary project plan like this before, so organized and logical. What a fool I was to think he couldn’t do it.
I replied back via email. “Nolan, this is absolutely perfect. Thank you.” I looked up at the ceiling. Please, Nolan, I’ve been an idiot for second-guessing you. Forgive me.
THE NEXT DAY just before lunchtime, Kat popped her head into my office. “Oh, good, you’re here. We need to go to the lunchroom. We’re already late.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The email this morning from HR. Today is Gaming Women Appreciation Day.”
Dang it. An email I hadn’t gotten to yet.
She continued. “It seems kinda bullshitty to me, honestly. It’s a new industry annual thing now, where the women who work in gaming are given appreciation for . . . being women? That sounds weird now that I said that out loud. But they have free food downstairs, so let’s go check it out.”
The building’s ground-floor event space had been converted into a fashion runway, with loud dance music playing from a tablet hooked up to some subwoofer speakers in the corner of the room. The lights dimmed, the music lowered, and then Ian appeared on the stage with a microphone. I scanned the room for Nolan but couldn’t find him. I pulled out my phone and texted him. You’re missing your women inclusivity lunch.
Instantly, he replied.
Oh God, that’s all Ian, not me. I’m done with being inclusive.
Err, I mean, done being an inclusivity intern.
Chained to my desk, more forecasts due tomorrow for the finance team ☹ Was here till midnight and back in the office early. Enjoy your womanhood!
A wide smile spread across my face. Maybe I’d stop by his desk later to say hi.
“Ladies of Seventeen Studios, thank you so much for everything you do. We hope you enjoy the women-in-gaming performance, plus the free food and fem-friendly festivities!”
The music cranked back up as Ian hopped off the platform. Then the “show” started.
A parade of women dressed as female characters from all different game franchises sauntered down the runway. Male employees hooted and hollered as the performance went on, drowning the music out. The Lara Croft model looked exactly like the character in the game but had a slightly rounder face and a slighter build. Then, after Lara’s appearance, the show basically went from PG-13 to rated R, and possibly X. The procession of heroines went from suggestively clad, to partially clad, to so nearly nude I had to peek at them through my fingers. They posed onstage, bending over and arching their backs, making Victoria’s Secret catalogs look rated G.
A chain mail bikini-clad woman with spiked heel boots and a gun holster belt ended the fashion show with a meek announcement. “Please visit the activity stations behind the stage. Thank you, fellow female warriors, for everything you do!”
Kat rolled her eyes. “I have nothing in common with that woman. Let’s grab some free lunch and get the hell out of here.”
Taking food and fleeing back to my desk would have been the right thing to do. Instead, I walked over to the activity zones and was then accosted by Bridget, the studio’s HR internal communications assistant. She sent out companywide emails about “Food Truck Wednesdays,” benefit changes, and parking garage tow notices.
“Hiiiiiiiii!” She pronounced it hah-eeeeeeeeee. “We’re doing a company blog post about this event. Can you tell me what’s the best part about being a woman in gaming?”
She had her notebook and pen ready to take notes.
“Hmmm, what an interesting question. What did everyone else say?”
“You’re the first person I’m interviewing.” Lucky me. Bridget looked at me with her giant anime-like eyes. “And you’re the only one I could find who didn’t grab food and run.” Awww, poor Bridget. I threw her a bone by answering some of her questions.
“Well, the best thing about working at Seventeen Studios for me is that because there are so few women, the ladies’ restrooms are always empty.” She wrote this down, so I continued down the restroom theme. “Related to this, the bathroom stalls are never out of order because there isn’t a lot of toilet usage compared to the men’s restroom, which always seems to have Out of Order signs posted on the door. Oh! There’s also always toilet paper and toilet seat covers. Same reason. Less throughput.”
“Any other good things about being a female in gaming?”
There had to be something else besides empty bathroom stalls. “Dudes don’t really drink tea. At least not in our office. So there’s plenty of tea supply in the kitchen.”
“Anything else?” She didn’t write the tea thing down.
“When there are parties, no one drinks the rosé or sparkling wine except for me. So those extra bottles usually come home with me afterward. I have, like, three bottles of bubbly in my fridge at all times.”
She waited for me to say more. I shrugged.
“Okeeee, thank you so much, Melody. Byeeeeeeee!” Bah-eeeeeeeeee, Bridge!
As I passed the fem-friendly cooking station, a friendly Martha Stewart clone with an apron called out to me, “Sweetie, would you like to learn how to make a low-carb, high-protein, gluten-free casserole?”
Um no.
Not ever.
I moved past the jam-packed “Edible Flower Arrangements 101” area and ended up at the fem-powering sewing corner, where attendees could learn how to make a throw pillow. I saw Ian with a plate of food, being interviewed by Bridget. I about-faced and hoped he didn’t see me.
“Hold on a sec,” Ian said. “Melody, come over here!”
Goddamnit.
“Oh, hey there. Happy Women’s Appreciation Day, Ian.” I raised up my hand and gave him a little wave. And a little forced smile.
Ian lifted his glass to cheers me. “Times are changing, ladies! I want you to know from this point forward, I’m your double X chromosome advocate, you got that?”
I nodded. “Does this mean you’ll be restocking the bathrooms with tampon machines that don’t charge a quarter?”
Bridget giggled.
Ian lowered his drink. “Melody, I want you to know I hear you, and your female perspective is always appreciated at this company.” But then he shook his head no.
Glancing over at another group of executives nearby, he pointed at them and walked away from Bridget and me without saying goodbye, essentially telling us to our faces that he was ghosting us. I said goodbye to Bridget, too, and pushed through the slow-moving crowd.
Near the exit, I stopped at the airbrush T-shirt area. I chose my light pink plain tee (the only color available) and carefully stenciled and airbrushed PIES B4 GUYS, a parody of the novelty shirt that Asher sometimes wore under his plaid button-down that read = RIGHTS FOR BROS AND HOS. I added cherry pie kawaii art to my shirt to complete the look.