Two Months Later

Lenora

There’re thousands of places for a twelfth date in the Cyberinth, however Bev’s Diner is not too flashy and just the right side of comfortable. It’s old school, mirrored ceiling and a polished checkered black and white floor. The purple plastic covered booths hover like blimps above a dance floor and the long countertop is lined with cushioned stools. A jukebox plays Old Earth music in a corner.

I settle into my seat, glance at my rank (18,492), and briefly set my Point of View to Out of Body Experience to check my avatar’s appearance. My dress is knee length in a shade of blue that’s borderline grey, like heavy smoke. I make a minor skirt adjustment to half an inch shorter, an extension of the eyelashes by two millimetres and an addition of gold highlights in my fiery red locks. Returning to first-person POV, I take another sip of my banana smoothie. My hunger isn’t eased. Food and drink in the Cyberinth are insubstantial, coded formulae that invoke certain tastes and textures.

I switch on the booth’s privacy filter and it becomes blissfully quiet. Even the music fades to a soft background hum and, for a few moments, I’m alone in my head. I check the time again. Wallace is late.

A chime alerts me to an entry request politely hovering outside the filter.

“You going to let him in?” Hugo asks. He flickers, the plastic booth clear through his transparent figure. In the Cyberinth, his programming adjusts to ensure he’s absent from my live views, which have become so frequent it’s impossible to erase him from my footage. He jokes about being a ghost in the system, going anywhere he pleases, though I know the restrictions bother him. If such a thing could bother an AI.

“Accept request,” I order and Wallace’s avatar appears. His hair is longer and messier, and his jaw is covered in dark stubble, making him appear older. It feels like it’s been years, not months since we Activated, our childhoods forgotten in our rush to be perceived as more mature. Hugo grumbles as he moves over to avoid being sat on.

“Hello, Baby Doll, sorry about my tardiness. Something unexpected has come up.” He runs a hand through his hair, sending it into wild disarray. “I wish I could stay.” He clasps my hands and brushes a kiss over my knuckles. We’re both recording every moment to edit and use later.

“Don’t worry. Last time it was me who had to bail,” I reassure him.

“Can I call you later?” He’s still all dimples and charm.

“I’d like that.” He kisses my cheek then blinks out of existence. Hugo grins, his body becoming more solid as I adjust the privacy filters to keep out peepers.

“What has you so cheerful?” I ask, sinking further into my seat with my drink.

“No Wallace, so I get to keep you all to myself for a bit.” He tips his hat back and leans forward, his focus on me like a ray of sunlight. I freeze, mid sip. Warmth flushes up my neck and I stick out my tongue. Hugo laughs. I like his laugh. Whoever programmed it was a genius, the way it sounds like a captured breath before the laughter burst past his lips, his eyes bright.

That’s when I realise.

Between keeping me company during lonely evenings at home, to his beaming face when I was awarded first at the Activation Ball, I’ve fallen in love with him.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I almost choke on a giggle gone hysterical.

Hugo, still chortling, pretends to slap me on the back until my breathlessness eases. He sits so close yet is impossibly far away.

“You alright, Nora? Take a sip.” He gestures to my glass and I drink the remnants of my smoothie. I can almost feel it rolling around in my virtual stomach and I shuffle away from him, pretending to check my reflection in the ceiling.

“Of course, but I should return to the Studios.” I clap, and appear in my dressing room at Escapist Studios.

Escapist Studios is a constant buzz of noise and light, the creativity exuding from the artificial walls and impossibly high ceilings. It’s also my current entry point into the Cyberinth and I can travel from anywhere in the Cyberinth to the dressing room in a heartbeat.

In my mirror, my reflection peers back at me and I bend closer to adjust the pigment in my avatar’s skin. Hugo slumps into the elegant high-back lounge along the far wall of my room, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches me. The paisley green designs on the pillows show clear through his body so even his skin appears green.

Miss Rey, you’re due in Meeting Room 249, a post flashes across my reflection.

I acknowledge and take a moment to bring up a handful of threads. It’s a pleasure watching my rank increase slowly and surely. At the rate I’m rising, I’ll be within the top ten thousand in a few days. I drop a few comments like stones in a pond and watch as they ripple out, creating chatter and likes that increase my value.

I dismiss all but one thread and give myself a once over in the mirror. My fans leave standard text comments that crawl across the bottom of the glass, giving me a lovely little confidence boost. I linger just enough to let my followers know how much I appreciate them.

“Your appearance is flawless, as usual,” Hugo says, unfolding his lanky frame from the lounge. I want to complain it’s because MsDanikaStarburst’s standards are on another planet, however I maintain tight control over my thoughts and offer him a neat smile.

Hugo falls into position behind me as I sweep through the Studios’ hallways until I arrive at the room and he gives me two enthusiastic thumbs up before fading into the shadows. I press my palm against the door and I’m accepted inside.

Meeting Room 249 is a private beach. White sugary soft sand, identical palm trees with the prerequisite three coconuts and water so bright my eyes ache. I change my outfit – from my smoky-grey dress to a white and yellow polka dot bikini, white, transparent summer dress, large yellow sunglasses, and a wide‑brimmed hat – and relish the warm sand between my toes.

“Ah, my heart! It’s been far too long!” trills MsDanikaStarburst from where she lounges on a black and white striped beach chair. Her hair is bigger than ever, offering her shade beneath the unrelenting sun, and the swimsuit she wears is all black ruffles and lace.

Beside her on a beach chair is an older gentleman in a pristine grey suit and bowler hat. He looks strangely comfortable, despite his surroundings. “This is Mr Gleick,” she introduces and he nods. “And the gentleman over there is …”

“Torin Hunt,” I interrupt and, sure enough, loping across the sand, shirtless, bronzed and radiating sexuality from every pore, is the reigning king of the Cyberinth. Ranked number one for five consecutive years, he’s the man I always imagine starring next to me in my daydreams. Hugo steps forward, standing between me and the sex god, and Torin Hunt strides right through him, hand outstretched to take mine.

“I’ve heard so much about you, Miss Rey.” He kisses my hand and peers up through blonde-tipped eyelashes. My ranking lurches higher as my name passes his lips and Hugo answers Friend requests on my behalf. “Grace, beauty, and one of the sharpest minds in years with that holo-glamour display you put on at the Activation Ball. It’s a pleasure!”

I quickly post the last ten seconds and my rank grows yet again. “Who’s he trying to fool?” Hugo snorts, reappearing by my side with his arms crossed and shoulders tense. Could he be jealous? Is that even possible? A thought tickles at the back of my mind, a floating tag, suggesting I’ve heard, or read perhaps, something about artificial emotions. I search my archives and come up blank.

“Mr Hunt. It’s truly an honour,” I reply, initiating a blush and shyly ducking my head.

“Please, call me Torin,” he insists and, without letting go of my hand, he leads me to a beach chair and waits until I’m comfortably seated before settling next to me on the sand. He’s barefoot and even his toes are well proportioned.

“Let us begin, then, my sweetlings. I’m activating a privacy ban.” MsDanikaStarburst waves her hand and severs my connection to my followers.