3:59

One fact about Eddie's, we

4:02

know exactly what we look like,

4:04

all about the strange curves of the back of

4:07

our heads, lean of our necks,

4:10

how we shift our posture when we enter

4:12

a crowded room, and every

4:14

possible way our face might crease or

4:16

stretch with the odd smile or frown.

4:20

Jezzle stabs his fingers over at me.

4:22

Blackjack is going to wipe the floor with you

4:25

tomorrow. You don't just disrespect

4:27

a man like that. He

4:30

keeps talking, but I stop listening.

4:33

Instead I bend down and pick up

4:35

an iPad laying on an empty paper

4:37

plate by the edge of the pool. Wiping

4:40

off a few water droplets, I

4:43

heft the tablet, get a good sense

4:45

of its weight, and then fast

4:47

pitch it into Jezzle's face. It

4:50

connects where his nose meets his eyebrows.

4:53

Jezzle crumples as blood pours from

4:55

his scruffy cheeks. Some

4:58

sad girl pop song starts to play.

5:02

This is cheap violence, but

5:04

it is what I do. All

5:06

around the yard in patio guests stare.

5:10

None are surprised, and Eddie

5:12

is an Eddie after all. They

5:15

judge me, but I'm the one feeding

5:17

them. I see the hidden glee.

5:20

The thrill these screen people get

5:22

from being this close to me. Big

5:25

stub looks down at his friend and

5:27

then backs up. I

5:30

am still all smiles because I know

5:32

some hype kid won't come at me. I

5:35

am a weapon, and everything

5:37

about me advertises that. Jezzle

5:40

keeps moaning and squirming. There's

5:43

no way to tell how much of his pain is real and

5:45

how much is for the cameras.

5:47

Not that it really matters.

5:59

What's up, Blackjack? Sweets

6:02

chose me. And it's over

6:05

between you two.

6:06

Tomorrow,

6:08

this row is gonna be personal.

6:10

And I'll take you down in the first ten

6:13

seconds. All your patrons,

6:16

they're not gonna do shit for you. The

6:20

crowd claps. A few people

6:22

raise their glasses like I just made a toast at

6:24

a wedding. Everything

6:27

is just right. Until

6:29

I notice a kid standing by the doors leading

6:31

into the kitchen. Bright

6:33

House has a rule about nobody under 16

6:36

being allowed on the property. But

6:39

some middle-aged YouTuber has smuggled in

6:41

his whole family, including a pudgy

6:43

preteen with curly hair and Harry Potter

6:45

glasses. The kid can't

6:47

be older than 13. He's

6:50

watching me with this huge, stupid

6:52

grin like I just cured his cancer. On

6:55

his shirt, stretched out by baby fat,

6:57

is a decal of my own face. His

7:01

chub balloons out my features,

7:04

making them look scary and

7:06

monster-like. Although

7:09

the face still has the same exact

7:11

crooked smile that I am wearing right now.

7:15

I go to the bathroom and throw

7:17

up. It's something I do.

7:21

My anxiety gets pretty bad before a row.

7:25

Earlier today, I swiped some pills out of my manager's

7:27

bag, but they tasted like ash and only

7:29

made my jaw lock up. Washing

7:31

them down with a rum and coke only made it worse. While

7:35

I'm heaving, I hear the bathroom door open

7:37

outside my stall. Bright

7:39

House is three stories and 100,000 square feet. This

7:43

bathroom alone is bigger than my dad's deli

7:46

on 3rd Street. Sitting with

7:48

my back leaning against the toilet's rim,

7:50

I stare at a pair of spotless black

7:52

vans with pink bunny-tied laces

7:54

on the other side of the stall's door.

7:57

Yo, you

7:58

good? Sweets asks.

8:02

I burp,

8:03

tasting acid as I hold back a coughing

8:05

fit. All good in here.

8:08

Then why did you run off?

8:10

She crouches down, glaring at me through

8:12

the gap beneath the door. Her

8:15

makeup is dark and jagged and fucking

8:17

scary. Last minute

8:19

donations are big, you know that. That

8:22

drama was playing great, and then you

8:24

just dipped to cry in the bathroom? I'm

8:27

not crying, I say. I

8:29

don't give a shit, Sweets says,

8:32

on all fours scowling now. If

8:34

people think you were crying, you were crying.

8:37

And if people think we are together, you

8:39

being a pussy makes me look bad. Well,

8:43

we wouldn't want that. No,

8:45

we would not. Now get out here.

8:49

I pull myself up. As I do,

8:51

somebody comes into the bathroom. Must

8:54

be a server or security because Sweets

8:56

tells them to fuck right off. When

8:59

I open the door and come out, Sweets

9:01

is leaning against the granite sink countertop

9:03

with both her arms and legs crossed. You

9:06

done with your existential crisis? We

9:09

have work to do.

9:11

At Kroger, we know the minute a tomato

9:13

is picked off the vine, the fresh timer starts.

9:16

The sooner we get our produce to you, the fresher it is.

9:19

That's why we've completely overhauled our process

9:21

to shorten the time from harvest to

9:23

home for our tomatoes, strawberries,

9:26

and salads. Because we know how much you love

9:28

fresh produce, we give you more time

9:30

to enjoy your tasty fruits and veggies

9:32

at home. So whether you're shopping in store, picking

9:35

up, or prefer delivery, we're committed

9:37

to bringing you the freshest produce possible.

9:39

Kroger, fresh for everyone.

9:43

Before joining Bright House, Sweets was a 5'1

9:45

mixed girl who made viral dance videos.

9:48

Now she has her own makeup brand and a cosmetic

9:51

surgery named after her. She

9:53

looks like a demigod, although

9:55

not a nice one. The light

9:57

in the bathroom is hitting her skin just right.

11:59

house. The

12:01

night after Sweets chomped that girl's

12:03

finger, we went out for burgers in

12:05

a limo. Crammed into the back, that

12:07

red tie still staining her chest, she

12:10

wouldn't stop singing songs while Sam

12:12

Chaser threw french fries out the window. Later

12:15

though, after we got back to the house,

12:18

Sweets disappeared into the showers and stayed

12:20

inside for an hour. Showers

12:22

are a great escape because the bathroom cameras have

12:24

low definition so it can be hard

12:26

for patrons to tell them we're crying. I

12:29

leave the bathroom and pass through the kitchen where the

12:31

ready twins are sitting on the counter drunkenly

12:33

answering questions over TikTok Live. They're

12:36

two pretty boys who wear diamonds so big

12:38

that they have names. Until a month ago,

12:41

you couldn't tell the twins apart, but the giant

12:43

bandage over Billy's eye has sort of fucked

12:45

with their aesthetic. Moving

12:47

through the first floor to the staircase, I pass

12:50

the arcade room in sauna. On

12:52

my way to the fire escape on the third floor, I

12:54

go down a hallway lined with Eddie's rooms. Most

12:57

everybody is outside but a few are in their

12:59

rooms talking to patrons on camera, all

13:02

using their second voices. A

13:04

little higher for the girls? Always

13:07

deeper for the boys. The

13:10

fire escape has a lock on it, which sort of

13:12

defeats the purpose, but Blackjack broke

13:14

it a long time ago so he could chill

13:16

out there on the roof. It's dark

13:19

up there, which is nice. Bright

13:21

House earned its name because day or night,

13:23

the lights never go out. Every

13:26

corner of the building is perfectly

13:28

lit for content. When

13:31

Blackjack and I arrived here 20 months ago,

13:33

we were guided through the main doors

13:36

by a dozen dudes in black suits, white

13:38

ties, and shoes so polished they reflected

13:40

all the house's lights. The suits

13:43

sat us down on a white couch in an all-white

13:45

lobby. Bright House

13:47

looks like the sort of modern mansion

13:50

where the nastiest porn gets made. Its

13:53

lobby has a chandelier the size of a Bugatti,

13:55

which hung over us as the suits had us sign

13:58

an eight-inch stack of papers. liability

14:01

waivers and NDAs. The

14:03

whole time I was positive that chandelier

14:05

was gonna fall and crush us. I

14:08

still worry about it sometimes. Blackjack

14:11

just sat there on the couch looking

14:13

dazed. Wearing his one

14:16

pair of jeans that didn't quite fit anymore, his

14:19

hair needed a wash. We

14:21

were one step above street rats and

14:23

had just been given a spot at a house that

14:25

turned out millionaires on a monthly

14:27

basis. When the suits

14:29

asked if we wanted to go pick out cars from

14:31

a nearby dealership, Blackjack just

14:33

swallowed and told him in a soft

14:35

voice that he would like to see his room.

14:40

I find Blackjack on the roof in his boxers

14:42

with a gun in his lap. It's an engraved

14:44

pistol the size of his head, which Blackjack

14:47

mainly poses with in diss videos. The

14:50

suits have warned him not to come up to

14:52

the roof, but that's just a good

14:54

way to make sure he keeps doing it. I

14:57

have to walk carefully on my way over to him, because

15:00

there is a lot of stuff that Eddie's, most

15:02

gone now, threw up from the lawn. Broken

15:05

bottles, solo cups, bottle rockets,

15:08

and the shattered upper half of a MacBook

15:10

Pro. The black eye

15:12

of his pistol watches my approach. As

15:15

I sit down next to him, Blackjack

15:17

passes me a wick's energy. The 30

15:20

ounce can is warm. Its flavor

15:23

labeled Tropic Nasty. I

15:26

crack it open and swig down the salty mix of caffeine

15:28

and alcohol.

15:30

Mm,

15:31

nothing as wicked as that first sip.

15:34

This slogan is basically my catchphrase.

15:38

In all official Bright House videos, we have to say

15:40

it at least once. Blackjack

15:42

only grunts, now looking over. He's

15:46

a tall guy with a naturally thick

15:48

build that's only gotten thicker from all his

15:50

weightlifting. Only his sad

15:52

boy eyes, drooping and ringed

15:54

with dark bags,

15:56

conflict with his alpha aesthetic.

15:59

What? Most people first notice about Blackjack

16:02

is the scar on his face. A slash

16:04

that starts beneath his left eye and runs

16:06

across his lip to the right side of his jaw.

16:09

When he smiles, it looks like a pair of scissors

16:12

are opening. The scissors are closed

16:14

tight right now. Below

16:16

us the party continues. Loud and

16:18

bright and full of motion. Someone

16:21

bought Skilla a solid gold flamingo

16:23

statue for her birthday, and she's sitting on it

16:25

in short shorts while cameras flash from

16:27

every angle. Up here

16:30

we are in the shadow of it all. You

16:33

know what I hate? Blackjack says,

16:35

holding up an empty can. Wix

16:38

energy. This stuff tastes

16:40

like if piss could piss. I

16:43

tense. Say anything

16:46

in Bright House but never bad

16:48

mouth a sponsor. No cameras.

16:52

Not up here. Blackjack says like

16:54

he's reading my mind. I

16:56

go kind of hollow hearing

16:58

this because what's

17:01

the point of talking if no one's watching? Having

17:04

spent my life getting patrons and building

17:06

a brand, I've somehow become the

17:08

human version of a tree falling

17:11

in the woods. I wasn't always

17:13

like this. When Blackjack and I were

17:15

transplants from Atlanta, we would

17:17

sit up in our east side apartment and talk

17:20

bullshit for hours. We

17:22

met on a forum when we were 12, six

17:24

years ago, each hoping to become

17:26

famous enough to one day be invited to an eddy

17:29

house. In the first few years,

17:31

we made any kind of content we could

17:33

while participating in rouse that only

17:36

had views in the double digits.

17:38

After my first loss three years ago, which

17:40

left me needing 20 stitches in my thigh,

17:44

Blackjack poured whiskey on the cut in the alley

17:46

behind the bar where it all happened. I

17:48

was so drunk that all I did was laugh. Things

17:51

have changed since getting into Bright House. Since

17:54

our names have filled magazine covers

17:56

and patrons come crawling to us, our

17:59

brands have diverted.

18:00

All the stories either of us make

18:03

are vetted, manicured,

18:05

and decided on by the suits, like

18:08

the beef between us right now. The

18:10

numbers have been so good, crazy

18:13

good, to the point that last week

18:15

Blackjack's goons jumped me while I was leaving

18:17

the Grove. And I'm fucking his fake

18:19

girlfriend. We have avoided each

18:22

other, insulted one another, and crossed

18:24

every line our managers can suss out.

18:27

It's gotten to the point that I have no idea

18:29

what part of me is playing a character and what

18:32

part is real. Did you

18:34

watch Nolan's last video? Blackjack

18:37

asks, which throws me off. I

18:40

haven't thought about Nolan for a hot

18:42

second. Why has he hung up on last

18:44

week's row when we have one coming up

18:46

tomorrow? Of course not,

18:49

I say. Hearing Nolan's name

18:51

is strange. When he was alive everybody

18:54

knew him as us. When you're dead

18:56

though, you're not a brand anymore.

18:59

You're just

19:00

a… Nolan.

19:01

You shouldn't watch that kind of stuff, man. I

19:04

never look at the other Eddie's pages, especially

19:07

the dead ones. There is a whole

19:09

graveyard of us across the internet.

19:12

It was this stream, Blackjack says,

19:15

not listening. His eyes are golden

19:17

as he stares down at the lawn. Some

19:19

patron shouting leading up to our row. Nolan

19:23

was saying thanks to everybody who gave him five

19:25

bucks or more. He sat in the

19:27

lounge with the chandelier above him, blowing

19:29

kisses and calling out names for twenty minutes.

19:32

The video is still up. He's still

19:35

giving those kisses. Blackjack

19:37

lifts his pistol and aims it at the pine trees

19:39

across the way, which are filled with ravens

19:42

waiting to raid the buffet once the house

19:44

goes quiet. Did he like

19:47

all those names? He killed

19:49

for them. But who are they?

19:52

Like really? Who the

19:54

fuck are they? He

19:57

puts his finger inside the trigger guard and

19:59

holds it there. You gonna shoot the

20:01

birds, man? I can go get

20:03

a camera." Blackjack screws

20:05

up his face. The scissors

20:07

close tighter. He

20:10

tosses the gun and lets it bounce down the

20:12

roof's slant. It almost goes over

20:14

the edge before sliding to a stop. Nolan

20:17

kept trying to get up, even

20:19

after his throat was... Like

20:22

if he just stood up. He

20:25

could get back to blowing those kisses on the

20:27

couch. Nolan kept trying

20:29

to get up.

20:30

Shit.

20:31

Blackjack is going through a gnarly

20:34

postgame. I had it once

20:36

too. After my first win by

20:38

Flatline, I spent the next three days

20:40

in the arcade room playing centipede until

20:42

I had to take the machine apart just to get my quarters

20:45

back so I could keep playing. It's

20:47

been a week though. Careers are made

20:50

in a week. Names are earned and

20:52

lost. Blackjack needs to

20:54

move on. He scoots across

20:57

the tiles like he might be going for the pistol

20:59

but then just stops and rests his

21:01

elbows on his knees. After

21:03

a second, he looks back at me as if he's expecting

21:05

me to say something. If this was

21:08

on stream, he'd be emoting hard

21:10

and I'd be making some face for the thumbnail. Only

21:13

Blackjack's expression is blank

21:16

and his eyes are glassy. And

21:18

he says,

21:19

I wanna go home, Danny. Do

21:23

it.

21:23

I wanna say. Go home. You

21:26

don't need money. You don't need this. Only

21:29

once the cameras roll and the world sees

21:31

you, really sees you,

21:34

leaving is not an option. Beyond

21:37

the money, beyond everyone knowing

21:39

the Danny West brand, beyond

21:42

my dad thinking of me as the family's patron

21:44

saint, it's being seen

21:46

that keeps me here. That keeps

21:49

all of us here. We aren't just

21:51

kids at Bright House. We

21:54

are Eidolons. All I can

21:56

do is look back at Blackjack wanting more

21:58

than anything. for it to

22:00

be tomorrow, for our row to be over,

22:03

for us to be buds again. I

22:06

noticed something behind him, hidden beneath

22:08

a slightly upturned roof tile, a

22:10

tiny round camera lens. The

22:13

sight of it makes my chest go warm.

22:16

Thank God,

22:17

this is content after all. Wrapping

22:20

an arm around blackjack, I squeeze

22:23

him tight and put on my best smile.

22:26

Man, we are home. The

22:30

staging room is a lonely place. It's

22:33

the next morning. I just wait in at 1.93. After

22:36

taking photos with fans on the red carpet inside

22:39

the convention center, I go to the staging rooms

22:41

alone. Staging rooms are quiet

22:43

places, with sound sealed walls

22:46

and low light. The one place

22:49

suits give us a moment to breathe. At

22:51

the center of the room is a circular table with

22:53

velvet inserts. Everything my

22:55

patrons bought from me lays on the velvet. I

22:58

stand over my hall, which is not great.

23:02

What we wear into the hex is entirely funded

23:04

by patrons. The only free gear

23:06

is the mannequin, a four pound

23:08

metal glove with Kevlar stitching that protects

23:11

our dominant arm. The mannequin also

23:13

works as a weapon in a pinch. Everything

23:15

else, painkillers, weapons, replacements,

23:19

support, and armor, all

23:21

of it, bought by the people who love

23:23

me online. In the

23:25

center of the velvet is a 30 inch blade

23:28

with a hook bent along its snout, which

23:31

is my favorite weapon. The

23:33

knife comes in at around 75 grand

23:36

and looks exotic. Almost like something

23:38

a mall ninja would buy, but it is

23:40

a deadly motherfucker that can

23:42

hook ankles and yank shields. I

23:45

lift it up, sliding it through the air a few

23:47

times before looking back down at a silky

23:49

pair of gym shorts and two extra

23:51

strength painkillers. That's

23:54

it. I really should have done that brand

23:56

deal with the meal kit company. It's

23:58

still three minutes before... I go live. My

24:01

phone is full of tweets and DMs

24:03

but not a single text.

24:07

After I perform the breathing exercises Doc

24:09

Leiter taught me, I do ballistic and

24:11

static stretches. One

24:13

minute, I put on the mannequin,

24:15

which is calming as the straps hug my arm,

24:18

and then I pop the painkillers before staring at

24:20

myself in the mirror. I'm eighteen,

24:23

but I've been told I look twice that. My

24:26

name is not Danny West.

24:29

Going to the brass doors on the far side of the

24:31

room, I nod to the plaque above them with

24:34

a Latin phrase stamped in some fancy font.

24:37

Dissident in Luchem et

24:39

Fient duce. Two

24:42

thousand miles away, my dad and half-brother

24:44

are watching from above the deli. Matt

24:47

is probably sitting where I sat when I watched

24:49

my first row. I miss them.

24:52

Missed my old street. Missed not having

24:55

anything in my jean pockets and being hungry

24:57

for attention. Swinging

25:06

open the doors, I step out and imagine.

25:09

There are lights everywhere. Outless

25:11

cameras and waving arms. A tide

25:14

of screaming faces and stands below a black

25:16

appearing. My manager flanks

25:18

my left as I march towards the heck, flapping

25:21

my shoulders, yelling out steps that

25:23

I can hear and don't care about. Not at

25:25

this point. Other eddies stand

25:27

along the walkway. A few are bleeding

25:29

and concussed, but all of them are

25:32

glowing. Their rounds are over.

25:35

The arena is small today, just

25:37

for dooders. It stands,

25:39

hoisted thirty feet above the crowd with plexiglass

25:42

walls, giving perfect shots for the rotating

25:44

camera. I whooped and beat

25:46

my chest. The audience in this dance

25:49

doesn't matter. It's the cameras

25:51

we play for. Blackjack is already in

25:53

the hex. The dude is wearing an easy million,

25:56

maybe two.

25:58

His upper body is covered in plate armor.

25:59

sprayed golden while his face is

26:02

hidden behind a grid mask. He's

26:04

got his Japanese war hammer, a Kanabo

26:06

in his left hand, and a shield with razor-sharp

26:09

edges in his right. I'm naked

26:12

in comparison. My

26:14

style is loud and confident though, so

26:16

I keep it up. Normally I have

26:18

the money to drug myself up so I don't feel

26:20

cuts. Today though, everything

26:23

feels too real. I

26:26

jump against the glass and lick it before pulling

26:29

myself over the barriers and dropping into the

26:31

gray sand made of microns. We

26:34

sidle up, facing off

26:36

in the overhead lights. The

26:38

announcers call out our handles and patron

26:40

counts, welcoming the audience to an

26:42

official Eidolon. The digital

26:45

ticker on the far wall tells me 700,000 people are watching.

26:49

Not bad, but not great. We

26:52

can do better. There is a reason

26:55

the Eidolon Arena Association has

26:57

turned our sport into 21st

26:59

century America's favorite pastime.

27:02

Eidolon knows what people want. People

27:05

want heroes, heartbreak,

27:07

bad motherfuckers crashing into bad

27:10

motherfuckers and to never see

27:12

the same thing twice. Above

27:14

all, they want it to be real. All

27:17

of it. Blackjack and I begin

27:19

to circle, moving around the hex

27:21

and spiraling towards one another. It

27:24

gives us time to watch the others form, see

27:26

how each of us are moving today, and to

27:29

psych ourselves up. We come together

27:31

fast and

27:31

suddenly, making the crowd shriek. I

27:34

swing low because Blackjack has a samurai's

27:37

legs. He and I train together so

27:39

he knows my moves. He slips away and

27:41

takes a half-hearted swing at my head. I

27:43

duck and weave. We break apart and

27:45

come back together in short, violent frenzies.

27:48

Performances first. Gotta make a show

27:50

of it. Flashing, almost light. We

27:53

turn around and wave, double back and block.

27:56

It has to be fun. Until

27:58

the moment it is. I

28:01

can tell that for all his talk last night

28:03

Blackjack has moved on from his postgame

28:05

blues He's keeping his footwork clean

28:08

not letting me draw out while also trying

28:10

to reel me in he is fast

28:12

at Top form better

28:14

than me. I think about Nolan

28:17

about the blood Pumping from his neck

28:20

as he tried to raise his hand and give a thumbs

28:22

up as if the show could go

28:25

on I won't be like him

28:28

Getting in close my slash at Blackjack's face

28:30

mask Sparks fly the

28:32

sound is beautiful better than music because

28:35

it only comes once My

28:37

knife breaks but also manages to cut a

28:39

gouge out of his helmet big enough where

28:41

I can see one of his eyes Blackjack

28:44

shoves forward forcing my arm

28:46

and I slam against him hugging him not

28:48

letting him get enough leverage to use his club

28:51

We lean against one another taking

28:53

time to catch our breaths and look over the other

28:55

shoulder at the tickers The

28:57

row has almost three million views,

29:00

which is good

29:01

solid Nolan died

29:04

for half that if

29:06

we were smart we'd end it now Only

29:09

one in ten rows end with a flat line, but

29:11

I can see in Blackjack's eyes that he wants

29:14

to push this further Good

29:17

so do I if we're lucky

29:19

we might hit five million I Slipped

29:22

back he swings his club down grazing

29:24

the top of my hair at the weight of its draft slapping

29:27

my chin against my chest I Stumble

29:30

back as the club explodes into the sand

29:33

a camera flashes somewhere catches us just

29:35

right Hoping to get a cut in

29:37

before he recovers. I died forward only

29:40

my balance is off I miss and suddenly

29:42

his club is crashing against my ankle Pain

29:45

rockets through my leg like a new point off

29:47

inside my bones. I Stumble

29:50

just the wall and then I'm lying

29:52

in the sand holding my leg Blackjack

29:55

towers over me. I switched

29:58

to be judge. I'm trying to get him in a leg lock But

30:00

he jumps back. I roll legs

30:03

up and we swivel round and

30:05

round. We are at four

30:07

and a half million. Blackjack

30:10

swings. He connects with my knee. Something

30:13

shatters. The pain is enough to make

30:15

me tear up, but I grab the club

30:18

and use it to pull myself back to my feet.

30:20

My entire right leg is useless.

30:23

So I grip Blackjack tight and

30:26

use him to support myself. Call

30:29

it, he whispers. You

30:31

call it. I hiss at the

30:34

eye I can see. He shakes

30:36

his head in response. We

30:38

are not the two boys from the roof.

30:41

We are Blackjack and Danny West,

30:44

Eidolons with 13 million

30:46

patrons between us. I push

30:48

him off, doubling back to the wall, dragging

30:51

my leg and getting a new blade. There

30:54

are enough views to pay for it. My

30:56

manager says we can stop. I

30:58

probably have some fractures and can take

31:00

the loss. It will be my third loss

31:03

ever. I ignore him. Gripping

31:06

the new knife, I look back at Blackjack, hidden

31:09

in all that armor, with his club slung

31:12

over his shoulder. If I want

31:14

to win, I need to end this

31:16

before the painkillers wear off. We

31:19

circle again, closing the distance fast. I

31:21

throw all my weight forward with my one good

31:23

leg, lunging forward at least five feet.

31:26

I swing and my knife hooks with his club.

31:29

Blackjack is moving so fast that when I pull,

31:31

I bring him stumbling straight into me. When

31:34

I bring my blade into the soft slush of

31:36

his armpit between the plates of his armor, it

31:39

is for show. It is the last

31:41

part of our beef, the logical conclusion.

31:44

I have to move the point just right. I

31:47

have to move his weight and my leverage

31:49

to drive it deeper. He

31:51

tries to back away and I hold us together.

31:55

That one eye watches me and his knees

31:57

shake and slowly give

31:58

out.

31:59

Jack hits the floor. I can't hear the

32:02

crowd because I'm crying. There's

32:04

a dead body at my feet. My

32:08

friend. I can't let the

32:10

crowd see, so I cover my face and

32:12

act like I'm wiping away sweat. I

32:15

turn, wobble, and

32:18

fall into the sand. My

32:20

leg feels like it's on fire, like

32:23

my entire body is about to burst

32:25

into flames. Laying

32:28

there, I picture sitting in the apartment with my

32:30

dad, wrapped up in

32:32

a Winnie the Pooh blanket as we watch

32:34

a row on the old flat screen. My

32:37

dad was glued to his phone, but looked up long

32:39

enough during the weigh-ins to say, if

32:42

that boy's smile drops, he

32:44

is dead. Someone grabs

32:46

me and pulls me up. It's my manager.

32:49

He's shouting, laughing. I

32:52

don't understand why he's so happy until

32:54

I look at the ticker and see the

32:57

view count. 10 million.

33:01

There are 10 million concurrent

33:04

viewers. I

33:06

stare up at the cameras as they swivel, catching

33:08

every angle of my body, showing

33:11

the world Danny West.

33:14

And suddenly the tears streaming down

33:16

my cheeks aren't for blackjack.

33:20

I am smiling at my dad.

33:24

I hope you can see it.

33:33

Hidden Signal Eidolon is narrated by Ashton

33:35

Harold, written by Bentley Reese, directed by Lawrence

33:37

Sonelli, executive

33:40

produced by Rob Herding, Sandra

33:42

Yiling, and Xin-Yin Hee-Yoo, co-producers

33:46

Lawrence Sonelli, Sarah Ma and Tom

33:48

Brick, original score in

33:50

composition by Darren H. and

33:53

audio engineering and editing by Sarah

33:55

Ma.

33:59

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