Days at the Arcade

Chapter 1: Inventor's Hunger (Jessie)

Present Time

This was it.

Three weeks. Three weeks of back-breaking labor and exhausting mental calculations. Three weeks of a lack of sleep and food. Three weeks to prepare and produce what I undoubtedly consider my greatest achievement yet. If this works, it would and certainly could be one of the first steps to an entirely automated society, benefiting every generation to come thereafter and so forth.

I suppose the mountains of wealth and fame that would last several lifetimes that would come with it would also be nice to have.

Everything now came down to the testing phase. If the prototype functioned properly, I'll be able to showcase my invention to the press in a matter of days and begin mass-production. If not, then not only will three weeks of effort go down the drain, but we wouldn't have the materials to make another. I could hardly imagine a world where I'd ever be able to tolerate my own existence if that were to ever happen.

Even as I went to bed with leaden arms and dreary eyes, my body was racked with anticipation. I could hardly wait for the sun, for this sunrise was more significant than any other sunrise could've ever meant to anyone.

When morning finally came and my alarm bleeped, my eyes snapped open, a wide smile stretching across my face. Today was really the day. Not the unproven, ominous and gutsy claim of hope like protagonists bellow out during the first or second scene in the movie. I mean I had today circled on the calendar in bright red marker as 'THE DAY'.

I leapt out of my bed and barely landed on my feet, tripping as I headed straight for the washroom. Wildly scrambling through my morning routine, I rushed so fast to the point where I nearly swallowed mouthwash thinking it was water and nearly spat out my toothpaste thinking it was mouthwash.

Once that was done, I wiped my face with a ragged towel and started walking out the bathroom. I paused, turning to the mirror. For the first time in a while I looked... decent, presentable at the very least. The red bags under my eyes have slightly faded and my cheeks were tinted a gentle rosy pink. Just yesterday I could just remember ruffled hair, bloodshot  eyes, and my skin pallor as pale as a vampire's.

I nodded, satisfied. This is something I could get used to.

After grabbing my laptop, I sprinted downstairs and got to the table where fried eggs and a sliced sausage were already on a plate.

I immediately started wolfing it down.

"Well someone's in a hurry!" Mom laughed as I stuffed my face full, grease on puffed cheeks. She had a massive apron with the words 'Kiss my scrap!' stitched to the front, with a new orange bonnet and a thin chain with a gear for the necklace. "And I thought I was the one excited for your big reveal!"

I nodded my response, mumbling something on the lines of "Ermhmm hm huhm!" I somehow managed to stuff a few pieces of sausages in between the scrambled eggs and tried to wash it all down with orange juice. With a few more attempts I managed to swallow it all down in one gulp. Wiping my mouth to clean of remaining orange juice, I gasped for air with the remaining juice dribbling on my lips.

My mom's eyes slightly widened, with slight admiration and a little fear. "Holy- The last time I've seen you eat that fast was at your grade one- no, two science fair."

"This is much bigger than any science fair mom. Way, way bigger." I assured.

She laughed. "Let's hope it is!" She took off her apron to hang it on a hook. "I'll be back as soon as I'm done setting up the pyrotechnics for the festival. When will you be back?"

"Umm, 6? Maybe 6:30?"

She nodded, satisfied. "Good, good. And listen," she gestured for me to come closer. I hopped off my seat and stood in front of her. The size difference was massive, my mom towering a full three to two feet above me with a straight back and bulky arms. Intimidating to anyone with half a noggin, especially me.

She put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me close, gripping close.

"Remember what I said about keeping it safe right? I know how you want this to be, and I'll always support you, but we don't wanna have another Ricochet do we?" she whispered, her smile being replaced by a stern glare.

I managed a slight nod. I didn't trust myself to speak and tell the truth.

She sighed. "Good. Keep this up and you'll be a mechanic beside me in no time." she patted my shoulder and gave me a little peck on the cheek.

"Mom," I groaned comically.

She chuckled. "I'll see you tonight Jess! Be good!"

"You got it!" The door slammed shut behind her. "You got it..."

I pulled out my phone and clicked on Messages, scanning through my contacts. "Only a few steps away from greatness now." I thought gleefully. "Only a few steps left now."

...

"Y- you want it by tomorrow?!" I stared at the purple haired bandit with blank shock. We sat together on an outside park bench with our orders from Brawl-Bucks "You can't be serious Shelly!"

"That's what I told Colt too." She repeated, grim expression on her face. "But the team needs to make the preparations ahead of time. Special effects and all that. Which means whatever machine you have prepared, we'll need it by tomorrow."

"But the festival's a whole week away!" I reasoned, completely ignoring my ice cup. "Surely you can bargain for at least a couple more days right? I just need to take the proper time to test it!"

"I tried! Those bastardos said the same thing over and over again." She growled as she clenched the sides of her black coffee, undoubtedly severally burning her palms. "I'm sorry Jessie. If there was something I could do I would, but we need the machine by tomorrow morning or else their cutting the project from the show."

I felt myself being pierced through the stomach, absolutely gutted at the idea that my project would never see the light of day.

"But they can't- They won't-" I started sputtering for the first time in ages as I struggled to process the implications of what she said. All the work, all the sacrifice, all the materials, thrown back to the scrapyard just because of a fat suit pressing an already impossible deadline before having it cut even farther.

She sighed as she stood up from the wooden bench, preparing to leave. She patted me on the head, it barely registering. "Listen, if you can't get it in then that's fine. There's always next year."

"No, that's wrong. You're wrong." I thought. I clenched my fists and eyes as I imagined the newly found government scrapping the whole project with no remorse whatsoever, sealing off half of my future without even realizing it.

I knew it wasn't Shelly's fault. Only recently being elected as the 'official' leader of the brawlers, she was only just getting used to having so many different responsibilities pushed onto her shoulders, having little time to venture outside of town. While most wouldn't be able to tell from a moments glance, there was only so many all-nighters someone could pull and cups of coffee to drink before it starts to have a mental toll.

It wasn't even half-a-month carrying that toll and her peach-colored cheeks were morphed into deep red crests embedded underneath her eyes.

That said, I couldn't let this news go. I wouldn't.

"Alright, alright! I'll get it tested by today! I promise." I stood up, now deeply desperate. She turned around, lightly surprised by my expression.

She cautiously raised an eyebrow. "You sure? I'm not a mechanic, but this testing stuff usually takes a while right?"

"Nope! I can get it done in a day! Trust me." I assured her, fists pumped with arms tucked closely to my sides.

She nodded slowly, slowly backing away. "Alright then. If you can get the machine by tomorrow then that's fine by me." She walked through the exit. Same place, same time tomorrow. We can talk more from there."

As she left panic raked through my body, leaving me in shreds. Four weeks was already harsh enough, now those maniacs need it by tomorrow? I was done for.

With no option left, I pulled open my phone and pulled up my contacts. On the very top of the long list there was '8-bit'. I breathed shakily as I scrawled out out texts like a madman.

Praying he answered, I started making my journey to the Arcade, feeling as though I was about to fall.