A Game With The Billionaire

Emma:

Jeremy Hart was the love of my life.

I have known him ever since we were little, our parents are business partners, and considering the fact that he’s also my best-friends’ Nicole and Nicholas’ cousin, we were practically shoved together in every societal function.

He was in every chapter of my childhood; we did everything together, from smiles passed across each other from the ball room while our parents dined with other rich as hell parents. We bonded through our passionate love for games; we used to play till midnight together, never growing tired of the glowing screen.

When we were six, I beat him in Mario Kart for the first time.

“You let me win,” I accused, dropping the controller. 

His grin was smug, “No. You actually won, don’t get used to it though, I hate losing.”

By fourteen, we became more than gaming buddies, he wasn’t just the boy who stole the last slice of pizza and cheated in Mario kart anymore, he was taller, his voice deeper, that boyish grin replaced with a dimple-smile that made my stomach drop low. 

One summer night, we were sprawled on the floor in his room, controllers tossed aside. We lay shoulder to shoulder, the air around us was charged with some sort of tension I couldn’t explain.

I turned my head and found him looking at me, his golden hazel brown eyes soft. 

“What?” I asked, my cheeks warming furiously under his gaze.

He smirked faintly, shifting awkwardly so that our shoulders brushed. “You’ve grown up.”

“So have you, taller, cockier and more annoying.” I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest.

“I like being with you,” he said slower, softer. “More than anyone else.” His hands found mine and he squeezed gently.

I swallowed hard, I wanted to say so much more that day, but instead I whispered softly. “Me too.”

And everything changed that night, he stopped being my gaming buddy, he became my first love.

I should have seen it then, but no. Sweet naive Emma Roberts went ahead and fell heads over heels for charismatic Jeremy Harts.

By sixteen, Jeremy became the boy who made my pulse race, the boy who filled my thoughts when I should’ve been studying; he became the boy who made the whole world bigger and brighter when he was around.

It happened one day, his parents were throwing one of their lavish parties, since Jeremy was the last child with two elder brothers, it felt choking. We slipped under the oak tree in his family’s vineyard, trying to escape the attention and that’s when he kissed me for the first time; I still remember the kiss and the way he looked at me, like I was the only one that mattered.

It was sweet yet clumsy but it was perfect, my very first kiss.

“One day, I’ll marry you,” he whispered against my lips.

I laughed shakily, even though my chest was aching with emotions too big for a sixteen year old. “You’re crazy, Jeremy.”

“Only when it’s you.” He answered simply.

 We got into Harvard together, we were inseparable. People used to say our love was too intense; we still had that passion for games. In between late night kisses in our freshman year, I remembered suggesting we start our own gaming company, he thought it was an amazing idea.

“We’re going to build our own empire, Em.” 

We spent nights in our penthouse dorm, surrounded by empty coffee cups and boxes of pizza. Jeremy sketched the characters on scraps of paper while I wrote lines of code. 

We argued. Goodness, did we argue. Over storylines, over mechanics, which soundtrack felt better. But every fight ended up the same way, with him tugging me closer and whispering, “Admit it, you just like fighting with me.”

And I would laugh, because we were fire and fire. The week after graduation, we launched our game, Erevos. We flew to Chicago for the game launch; the place was glittering with thousands of people ready to see our game. I was nervous but because he was with me, I felt ready, prepared to let the whole world know what we had created.

Jeremy looked breathtaking in his tailored black suit, his golden blonde hair tousled gruffly; he never bothered to comb it.

“Ready to change the world?” I asked, squeezing his arm. He looked at me differently that night, and I felt a pool of dread deep in my stomach, what was going on?

His name was called on stage and I watched as he adjusted the buttons of his suit before marching on stage, cameras were flashing everywhere, journalists, investors, executives were all excited. Why wasn’t my name called alongside his? Something was wrong; I could feel it in my bones.

Jeremy leaned into the microphone. “Ladies and gentleman, thank you for being here tonight, what started as a simple idea has become such a revolution in the gaming industry and it’s all thanks to-” He paused, our eyes met, I was expecting him to say my name but instead, he said.

“The vision I had four years ago.”

My stomach dropped, I felt cold all over. I wanted to whisper his name, but instead I sat there, waiting for him to correct himself and acknowledge me but instead, he kept going, saying how he alone had dreamt and created the game.

As he unveiled the game trailer, he did it with his arm draped around Charlotte Hilton, the daughter of one of our investors. My blood ran cold as he kissed her cheeks for the camera.

I sat there, my eyes stinging with tears that were threatening to fall down at any damn time, it dawned on me right there. He had stolen us; he had replaced me, erased me and betrayed me in front of the whole damn world.

That night in Chicago, under the sparkling lights, Jeremy Hart stopped being the love of my life.

He became the man I would spend the rest of my life hating.