Left Field (New Hope #4)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lucy

My eyeballs are going to fall out of their sockets.

That's how many hours I've logged on the Wraith. It's been three weeks of poring over the same drawings, and making them into a thirty-second film—or, as Lili calls it, a cut scene. It's a part in a video game where the narrative progresses, but the player doesn't have control of the character. It also requires more attention to detail and graphics than actual gameplay.

As well as utilizing my old artwork, I've created new doodles on the pad. It's mainly background objects, like a chair, trees, or blades of grass. Lili said I could copy and paste some of them to save time, but I insisted on drawing each element by hand. In this case, by stylus. The shading takes the longest. Lili is teaching me color theory—that it's important to stick with a gradient to express emotion in a scene. If Blake likes it, the same palette will be used throughout the game.

By far, my favorite part is the animation. I highlight something innocuous like a campfire, and there are dozens of options to choose from. Should the fire be roaring, welcoming, simmering, or dying? The detailing is limitless. There's even a way to tell the software in which direction and how strong the wind is blowing, and it will affect everything in the frame.

I've become so addicted, I use the tablet while I'm eating or on the toilet, but I have been forced to break away on rare occasions.

Jade completed her last round of chemotherapy, and I was able to stay home with her while she underwent the side effects. With her humidifier, she hasn't had such a terrible cough, but it was difficult to keep fluids down. There were quite a few times she screeched at me for barging into her room with soup or a Gatorade, and forcing her to take small sips. I threatened to bring her to the hospital for IV hydration, and she acquiesced after that.

She has an appointment with her oncologist this week. They'll be taking a bone marrow biopsy to check for leukemia cells. Hopefully, the chemotherapy eradicated them. Otherwise...

Otherwise, I don't know what happens. Jade has always gone into remission after the first line of treatment.

Despite gifting me the Wraith, I'm beginning to think Blake has grown jealous of the tablet. He's ecstatic that I'm drawing more, but there have been instances where he took the device from me and put it somewhere out of reach. Of course, during those times, it'd been a while since I'd slept or had anything to eat. He also hasn't asked to see my work. Not once.

It's disheartening, but the time I've spent on this single scene has taught me a valuable lesson. Yes, I want to please Blake and help him with his problem at work. It'd be exciting and overwhelming if he decided to make my doodles into one of his games. But, at the end of the day, I'm doing this because I enjoy it. I'm doing it for me.

Still, I'm fairly certain my eyeballs are going to fall out of their sockets.

"Your eyeballs are going to fall out of their sockets," Jade warns, tugging her beanie over her head as she walks into the living area. She grabs her purse from the kitchen counter, slinging it on one shoulder. "The last time I saw your eyes that red was when I caught you smoking weed on the bleachers freshman year."

"Ah, Mister Allington," I sigh, recalling the memory. "Was so desperate to get access to underage pussy, he gave me a free joint and whispered, 'Can you keep a secret?'"

"It was all sticks and stems, anyway," Jade reminds me, twirling her keys around a finger.

"He was a pedophile. What do you expect?"

Jade takes a deep breath, pausing by the door. "I have a... visitor staying over tonight."

I blink a few times, attempting to wet my eyes. "Ooh, tell me more."