Chapter 11

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Part II

Chapter 11

Alex

            "You look hideous."

            I stare at my outfit for the night: a tight black shirt with a red vest over it, fiery red pants with black designs on it, calf-high red boots and my hair — or wig — is tied in a ponytail with a red ribbon. My fake sword, adorned with fake red rubies on the black hilt, (that he gladly made for me) is fastened in my black leather tool belt. I don't feel like Alex anymore, but my alter ego Scarlet. The only thing I recognize about myself is my green eyes.

            I turn back to my brother and I smirk, "Beautifully hideous, that is."

            He sits on my bed and rolls his eyes, "Whatever."

            My brother has always been — and still is — immature. But I don't blame him. That's how most boys work, after all.

            Tonight is an annual convention-slash-gathering for Myth-o-magic gamers. For the past years, it has been a card game, but with the help of experts, it became a videogame for everyone. It operates on Internet to connect with other players but you can still save your progress even without connection. It's a definite craze for geeks — including my brother and me.

            Myth-o-magic isn't just a game. It's a competition, too. And there are top six players all over the world for the videogame. The finals are coming up soon and that's what the players are preparing for. But tonight, in the gathering, the top six meet up in San Francisco (where we live) for specifically practice matches.

            My brother and I happen to be two of the top six.

            Tonight, all players are required to dress up as their own avatars. In the game, you are required to make your own avatar to play — like an account. The characteristics are really endless, so the avatars are mostly unique.

            "What about you?" I cock an eyebrow at him, looking at his plain polo and shorts, "Where's your costume?"

            "I'm coming, don't worry," he smiles smugly, "But I'm not wearing anything."

            "Oh? And I thought they'll all expect Aven to be there?" I face the mirror again to apply lipstick.

            "She'll be there," he says, "But she's not making an appearance."

            I sigh, "What do you mean?" He has a trick again up his sleeve.

            "Ah, dear sister, you'll soon know."

            I check the watch clasped on my wrist. It's part of my costume, too. Mom is still working, but she doesn't know about the convention. She just thinks the videogame is a pastime for us. It's anything but a pastime — it's a passion for us. I told her we'll be visiting a friend tonight, but we'll come back sometime after midnight.

            "We'll need to get going," I say, "Mom's coming home soon. I can't let her see me like this." I run out the door of my room.

            I enter the living room and check that everything's clean when she comes back. After I turn off the TV, which my brother carelessly left turned on, I sit on the couch. Why isn't he down yet?

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