I tried to remember how much gold I had before I went on my skeleton killing spree, and recalled it was somewhere around 126k gold that I looted from BigSword. Then around 100k after my debacle with customer service and…Sandeep. I felt the heat rush to my face just thinking about him and MoonCrawler.
But then I had spent 5k gold on the music package on a whim, putting me below 100k. After my dungeon clear though, I was back above 100k. The gold per hour was pretty lucrative considering my actor wages.
I was standing at the dungeon entrance, reluctant to head back to the tower and wait for…I don’t know what, someone to come scold me, ban me, help me logout - just something. So I opened the add-ons menu where I had bought the music package and scrolled through the options. At the top of the list for 10k gold was the full Internet package. I hovered over it for half a second then clicked buy. Most of the 10k was from the dungeon clear, and I had already bought the music package with BigSword’s money anyway. What did I have to lose?
The Internet option went from grayed out to clickable, so I opened up a browser. I typed in ‘Stuck in video game’ and hit enter. The search list populated with a bunch of useless suggestions, so I cleared the search and typed ‘S&S customer service human’. The top search listing was a forum filled with hundreds of people complaining about S&S’s crappy customer service.
“Preaching to the choir,” I said as I cleared the search bar.
Maybe I was going about this all wrong. Customer service hadn’t been any help, even after I had spent thousands of gold. The GM hadn’t taken me seriously because I looked like an employee. I needed to reach out to someone that knew me. My family was non-existent - my parents had died three years ago in an accident, and I was an only child. There was a great-aunt on my dad’s side, but I hadn’t spoken to her since the funeral. Anyways, I didn’t have her number memorized, and she was approaching ninety years old. I could just imagine the conversation now.
“Hey, Aunt Edna, it’s Ray.”
“Ray, who?”
“Jerome’s son, your nephew…”
“Oh, little Ray Ray. How are your parents? You better tell Jerry to call me soon…”
And that wasn’t even factoring in the fact that I had to explain to her the mechanics of being stuck inside a virtual reality inside my pod.
No, that wasn’t even a last resort - that was a waste of time.
Truthfully - and this was depressing to even admit to myself - I only had one person I could call that wouldn’t laugh me off the phone.
So I quickly created an Internet phone line through a free online service, and called my best friend in the whole world.
The line dialed for two full minutes, and I was about to hang up, when a click sounded on the line.
“Yo, I swear to Christ, if this is a scam call, or about my car warranty, I’m going to reach through this line with my dick and-”
“Jer! It’s me. Please don’t fuck me across the phone line,” I said with a snort.
There was a distinctive pause, the sound of moaning breaking through the silence on the other side of the line.
“Jesus, Jeremy, did I interrupt a wank sesh?” I asked, a disgusted shiver running up my back at the visual. “And who the hell picks up the phone without even pausing the video?”
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Who the fuck is this!” Jeremy shouted.
My brow furrowed. “Dude, it’s me.”
“Me, who! Listen you sick fuck-”
“Jeremy, relax bro,” I said, interrupting an impending tirade. Jeremy was like a runaway train once he got started. It was best to step in before he built momentum. “It’s Ray. I’m in a bit of a pickle. You’re not gonna believe this, but-”
“Fuck you, man. Just absolutely go fuck yourself right in the ass. And when you’re done, go fuck your mother. And after that, your dad needs-”
This was going too far, even for Jeremy. He knew my parents were dead. “Fuck you, Germy!” I shouted over him. “Bringing my dead parent’s into this?” He stopped, and I wasn’t sure if he had hung up or walked away or what, but I was really pissed now. “I’m in the middle of a serious fucking crisis, and you think this is a good time to talk shit on my family?” I took a calming breath, the steam running out of my own tirade. “Dude, I’ve had a helluva rough day, and I need my friend…okay?”
There was an extended pause, and I wondered if he had just muted me. But that wasn’t Jeremy’s style - he tended to fight fire with fire. So why was he quiet all the sudden?
Then: “Ray?” His voice was soft, questioning - a tone I’d never heard from him…ever.
“Yeah, dipshit,” I said with a laugh. “What’d you think I’ve been sayin’ for the past two minutes?”
There was another pause, and I felt like this fucking Twilight Zone episode just kept getting weirder. “Jeremy? I haven’t been able to get you to shut up in five years, and you decide to go all silent treatment now? What the fuck is goin’ on dude?”
“Quick. What were we talking about this morning before you logged?”
I sighed in annoyance. “Dude, this isn’t a phishing call.”
“Now, or I’m hanging up.”
“We were talking about my job.”
“Details, motherfucker. What about your job?”
I took another heavy breath. If I had anyone else to call, I would have hung up and put Jeremy on my shit list. But I was desperate…and Jeremy was my only real friend - and goddamn if that wasn’t depressing. “You made some shithead joke about me getting an STD from my job.”
“Where’d we meet?”
“Clarence Design School. You were hacking together some shitty mod over Golden Shooter-”
“Whoa, ouch.”
“It’s true, though.”
“Fine, it was shit,” he agreed with a sigh. “How’d your parents die?” he dropped without preamble.
“Dude…come on.”
“I’m sorry, but I need to hear it,” he said, his voice firm.
I looked away from the phone interface, not enjoying the feelings that came to the surface when I thought of my parents. A shaky breath rattled out, and I ran my fingers through my hair. When I felt the long, smooth hair in my hands, I was startled for a moment. I had forgotten I was still in my pod. Everything in this game felt so…real.
“Quickly man. I don’t know if you’re looking it up or something-”
I felt a growl building in my throat, but I suppressed it. Finally, my voice quiet, like I would be disturbing their memory if I spoke too loud, I said, “The protests.”
“What? Say it louder.”
“The fucking protests! Jesus.”
“…Ray?”
“Yes, fuckhead.”
“Dude…you’re dead.”
I walked over to the wall and punched it as hard as I could. The pain in my knuckles was as real as anything I’d ever felt, and I immediately regretted it. Clutching my hand, the rage built as the pain intensified, until…I let out a long sigh. The anger slipped away, and a bone-deep tiredness took its place.
“Jer, I’m done with this, okay? Can you be serious for one minu-”
“No, actually dude. I’m being dead serious…no pun intended, but like, for real…you’re fuckin’ dead.”
Disappointment hit me like a physical blow, the realization that I had no one in the entire world I could turn to. Jeremy had always been irreverent, politically incorrect, never apologized for anything. But this…this was too much.
“I’m not fucking with you,” he said. I reached out to end the call - I couldn’t do this anymore. “Search yourself, dude.” My finger hovered over the button, the sincerity in Jeremy’s voice was off putting, and too unusual to dismiss. His pranks were usually in your face and grotesque - not this long-con type of setup.
I swapped to the search bar and typed:
Rayshawn Davis
The results filled my vision, and I clicked on the top link. I realized as it loaded that it was a news site. The page loaded and reloaded five times, new ads popping to the front in between loads. When the page had finally stabilized, I had to scroll two full pages to get past even more ads. I scrolled right past the headline in my haste, and had to go back.
Jeremy’s voice interrupted me as I struggled against the ads to get back to the headline. “Dude, I’m being serious. You should really search yourself.”
“I am,” I said impatiently. “Shut up for a minute.”
When I finally got back to the headline, I felt like I had suddenly lost the ability to read. I reread the headline four times before it fully clicked:
Local man dead in gas explosion, Rayshawn Davis (age 24). An out-of-work actor. He leaves behind no family.