I tried to relax. Tanner had obviously liked Quinn's idea about positive publicity. If I came out strong against the stereotypes of the drug-using gamer, then maybe I could defend myself against whatever came next. I grabbed my laptop and brought up the young man's blog. It was a well-recognized blog, and he had also authored many articles in the same magazines that featured me.
"Want to start with the stereotypes?" he asked.
I laughed. "Yeah, I guess that's the freshest topic in my mind."
The blogger turned on a digital recorder and placed it on the coffee table. "Your image stands out amongst gamers and it is the main strength of your success. Would you agree?"
"I stand out only because my avatar looks exactly like me. Lots of players love to form new faces, entirely new bodies and species, when they enter the world of Dark Flag. To me, it is more fun to conquer that world as myself," I said.
"Not many other players do that. Another stand out happens to be a close friend of yours. The human avatar known as Arrowa?"
I thought of Quinn in my bed. The thought was like a sanctuary. I could not let even a well-intentioned blogger touch her. "I certainly do not judge other people for creating avatars that are completely different from their real selves. Personally, though, I think my identical avatar gives me strength. I put more into the game because it is my face on the Black Fields."
He noted my sidestep but moved on. "And it’s that personal touch that has led you to be one of the most sponsored players."
"That and my exceptional grasp of Dark Flag. The creators allowed the game to evolve depending on how players use it and so far, they believe my leadership is expanding the game in a positive direction," I said.
"There is talk of your clan members also getting sponsorships though there has been some jealousy among the ranks. Is that true? Are your clan members upset at the arrival of newbie Arrowa?" he asked.
"I think the mention of the clan makes it clear why there is jealousy. There will always be jockeying for position amongst a clan. History bears that out to be true and it is proven in Dark Flag." I refused to let him get any closer to Quinn.
"I only ask because jealousy is a powerful motive.
You've recently come under scrutiny from the police. They are playing off the stereotype of the gamer as drug-user to produce search warrants and raid your apartment," he said.
"Unfortunately, no matter what I do to bring an open and honest face to gaming, there will always be prejudiced people. I'm not sure where the misinformation is coming from, but I do not use drugs or indulge in that stereotypical lifestyle," I said. In my head, I could hear my manager applauding.
"So, it could be possible that jealousy is motivating someone to set you up?" the blogger asked. "It was noticed at the last tournament that there is tension between the Green Witch Ayaan and the Human Arrowa. Two female clan members vying for the attention of Light Slayer?"
"If that were true, they would target each other, don't you think? But let me make it clear there is no drama there. Dark Flag is a complex game but not a forum to play out love triangles or soap operas," I said.
The blogger sat back and frowned. He was disappointed I was not producing any juicy quotes or comments. I should have known that any interview would focus mainly on Arrowa. Encouraging Quinn in real life was one thing, but in the world of Dark Flag, it caused much larger ripples.
I hoped that whatever Quinn's new plan was, she had taken into account the dual life of Arrowa. If she was planning to enter the world of professional gaming, I would have to protect us both in the game and in the real world.
"I think that about covers it," I said. "If you want to email me any follow up questions, I'd be happy to answer. Also, I'm sure my manager told you, I need to see a proof of the article before you can post it to your blog."
Again, the blogger frowned. He stopped his digital recorder and stood up. "Thanks, Mr. Redd. I'm not really sure what shape the article will be able to take."
"Stick to the whole breaking down stereotypes angle," I said. "Unless you're going for your own stereotype of gossip-seeking tabloid blogger."
"I'm not like that," he said.
"Exactly." I shut the door behind him.
I checked my messages again and found a follow up from my manager. He sent the address of a local clinic that would perform a drug test and put it on record. I could stop by anytime I wanted. I tried not to throw my phone across the room.
There was another knock at the door. I balled up my fist. If one blogger knew my address, then my manager had opened up a channel for other gossip-seekers to flood right to my door. I stood in the hallway not sure whether to tell the person to go away or pretend not to be home. The knock sounded again. Not the hammering of the police, so I took a step closer.
"Who is it?" I called.
"FBI, Mr. Redd, open up. We've been asked to do a follow-up by the local police force," a gruff voice said.
I ripped open the door, prepared for a fight.
"Not funny?" Quinn asked.
It took a moment for me to unclench my fist. Her peals of laughter helped. So did the light and sweet kiss she planted on my cheek before she stepped inside.