Sang frowned. “They’re wasting time.”
“Right! What about people who like to party? Go out clubbing?” Van asked.
“Equally a waste of time, only with the bonus of also wasting far more money than they should be.”
“Don’t you see a pattern here, Sang? You’re not just labelling gamers as losers; you’re labelling anyone who doesn’t think the same way as you do! Not everyone wants to be some kind of highly driven, slightly robotic career person.”
“I know that…” Sang said, feeling a little unsure.
“No, you don’t! You, in fact, seem to think that unless everyone else is just like you, they aren’t good enough. So, serious question here, who do you respect in your life right now?” Van asked.
“I…” Sang paused and considered the question. She couldn’t think of anyone who she looked at with any level of respect, honestly. Sure, there was professional consideration for her superiors, but most of them weren’t as driven as her.
“You don’t really respect anyone, do you?” Van asked.
“That’s not true. Um… why am I on trial here anyway?” Sang demanded, crossing her arms. “I shouldn’t have to listen to you lecture me about this. I mean, who are you anyway? Some unemployed guy who just sits around all day and plays…” she paused mid-sentence.
“So my opinion is less valid because of what I do? My ideas, my hopes and dreams, my insight, my humanity is all contingent on whether or not you approve of my life choices?” Van asked. “Seems awfully elitist to me.”
“Whatever. Why are we even talking about this?” Sang asked, feeling a deep sense of embarrassment rise up within her. She had been completely exposed in a matter of seconds, and it left her feeling strangely vulnerable.
“I dunno. Just thought it would be nice to get to know you more,” Van said as he began walking again. “I didn’t mean to demolish you.”
“You didn’t demolish me, you ass!” Sang said. “You just pointed out a minor issue you see in how I think, that’s all. What about you, huh? Tell me, oh wise Van, why is it that a perfectly normal guy like yourself likes to spend all of his time running around and playing make believe when there’s a real world to be experienced? Hmmm?”
Van laughed a little. “Well, if you absolutely must know, I play these games because they’ve almost always been better than the real life thing. My home wasn’t particularly healthy, with a dad who was pretty verbally abusive and a mom who was manipulatory. Siblings battling for attention, lots of noise. Never any peace, no stillness. But at the end of the day, our little family would all act like there was nothing wrong. Dad watched TV for a solid six hours a night; Mom had her stupid romance novels. My sister was a sports nut and my little brother got really into alcohol. Everyone in the family was hiding, so I picked gaming as my escape. After a while, I realized how much better it was than real life and that I could make some kind of living out of it, so I decided to leave home at 16, move in with a few friends, and we all tried to go pro. That was almost eight years ago... I was pretty damn close to becoming a pro, too, until you guys showed up.”
“Pro gaming? Meaning what? They pay you to play around all day?” Sang asked.
“Yeah, it’s actually a thing—and it’s pretty big. It’s a valid career choice,” Van said. “Like being a football player or an actor. Entertainment jobs are legit, even if you don’t think so.”
“Huh... interesting. So, your whole life you wanted to go pro, right?” Sang asked.
“That’s right,”
“So, what happens after you become a professional?” Sang asked.
“Oh, man, everything changes. I mean, once a real life paycheck starts coming my way, more than just barely enough to pay rent and buy gamer chow, I’m going to live it up. Gonna get a nice house, maybe find a girlfriend, and definitely start that blog I’ve always wanted. But, all of that comes after I get the job. It’s not an easy field, and lots of people burn out on the way there, but if I was going to quit, I would have quit a long time ago.”
Sang paused from walking and looked at him. “You’re meaning to tell me that you are seriously sacrificing everything so that you can achieve your career goals?”
“Um, yeah. Duh,” Van said.
Sang sighed deeply. “I guess we’re the same person.”
“What do you mean?” Van asked.
“I gave up a lot to become a top recruit for the CIA. I made so many sacrifices, and lost so many friends and potential boyfriends because I was so focused on getting to the top. And I’d say the exact same thing to myself each and every time I felt lonely, or depressed or worn out. I’d say, it will be worth it after all of this. Once I get the job, then it will be worth it. Then I can do all of the things I want to do.”
“And was it worth it?” Van asked. She could hear a small amount of hope in his voice.
“I thought it was for a while, Van,” Sang said, dropping her head. “Then… it all changed. In a second. I, uh, I didn’t want to talk about it. But… nah, forget it.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Van said as he kicked a rock. “But whatever it is, it seems to be bugging you. Is it more stuff about aliens? Maybe you’re one, too?”
“Ha, I wish. No…” Sang took a deep breath. “The mission before this, I had a partner. A really funny guy, a lot like you in plenty of ways. He loved games and movies; anything fantasy, he was all over it. I’ve been trying so hard to not think about him, and it’s been successful with all of this noise and fuss.”
“What happened to him?” Van asked softly.
“He… he died. He did something stupid and I… I did something stupid, too. We’re desk jockeys, but he always wanted something more out of life. So he thought it would be a good idea to try some field work without permission. I couldn’t reason with him, so I made the wrong choice. I tried to help him. I thought it would be better for him to just succeed and not get caught than for him to lose his career. I tried looking out for him, but I’m not much of a field agent. He was shot and died in the back of my car as I tried to get him to the hospital.”
“That’s intense,” Van whispered.
“Guess who got blamed for the whole thing?” Sang asked, looking at him. She tried to blink the tears away from her eyes, but it wasn’t working.
“I’m sorry to hear that happened to you,” Van said. She could tell that he wasn’t sure what to say, but then again, she doubted there was anything she could hear that would comfort her.
“So yeah, Van, I got what I wanted for a short time. All of the hard work, the sleepless nights of studying, the years of my teenage life spent learning coding instead of going to parties, all of that was erased with one poor decision. Now? Now I’m here. Running around looking for aliens. Before this, Van? I was fighting terrorists. I don’t even think I have a future with the organization that I fought so hard to join.”
Van stood in silence for a few minutes. Sang didn’t look at him. She felt like she had opened herself up a little too much, and was worried he’d say something harsh. Or worse, give well-meaning but worthless advice.
“Man, I’ve never had to deal with tragedy before,” Van said, “so I don’t think there’s anything I can say to all of this. But as for losing it all, well, look at it this way: you could always be a pro-gamer if the CIA doesn’t work out.”
Sang stared blankly at him for a moment before feeling herself burst out into laughter. It was such a highly inappropriate thing for him to say at the most inappropriate moment that she couldn’t contain herself. She laughed hard at his words and shook her head. “Van, that’s honestly one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard. I think I needed that.”