After being active the whole night, once everything was solved and the adrenaline in my blood started to ebb away, a terrible fatigue took over me. I barely managed to make it to my room, stripped off my clothes, collapsed onto my bed, and instantly the lights went out.

I don't know how long the grace period was, but I heard a knocking noise that seemed to come almost the next second. "Tock, tock. Tock, tock."

In the deep phase of sleep, my mind registered it as the work of a woodpecker somewhere nearby, and I tried to ignore the noise.

"Tock, tock."

That annoying little fucker just keeps pecking away, doesn't it?

"Dolores? Dolores? Oh..."

I raised my head, my eyes half-closed, struggling to distinguish the intruder. It wasn't a woodpecker after all—it was Mrs. Robertson, discovering me naked, sprawled across the bed.

"Dolores, honey, there's a young man here for you. Should I tell him you're sleeping?"

All I could manage was a grunt. "Mmmh?"

"Fucking, fuck!" I thought, irritated. "I'm no longer sleeping! She wakes me up to ask me if I'm sleeping? Damn, this is more annoying than a mosquito on steroids!"

My brain still struggled to keep me in slumber despite the disturbance. I just couldn't summon the energy to open my eyes.

"Let me take the lead; I'm not sleepy," a voice in my head kindly suggested.

My savior! I immediately allowed White Flower to take control. I figured it would be a good idea and allow me to get some more sleep, but that turned out to be a mistake. Trying to sleep while your body is in motion and your eyes are wide open does simply not work!

She turned gracefully in her bed, pulling the blanket over herself.

“Oh, Mrs. Robertson? I beg your pardon? Who's here?” she asked.

“Gonzo!!”

It wasn't Mrs. Robertson who spoke; I just caught sight of her as she inhaled to respond, then chuckled at the deep baritone voice echoing from the living room. I don't think he was answering me; I believe he was conversing with Mr. Robertson and introducing himself.

“Oh, Gonzo!” White Flower exclaimed happily.

I had completely forgotten about Gonzo and his promise to bring back my bicycle during the week. Damn, I should have called him; I had his number.

White Flower got out of bed, threw on a thick cotton bathrobe, and hurried towards the door barefoot. I noticed Mrs. Robertson seemed about to protest my scant attire; she drew breath, but before she could say anything, Flo was already outside.

"Hey, Gonzo!" she greeted cheerfully. "Nice to see you!"

“Dolores! Hey, lady!" he replied, turning to face me. "You look beautiful today!" he exclaimed. "I brought your bike, but I heard from Robert here that you're looking for a real bike? Why didn't you tell me, lady?”

“Ahem, well, I wanted to gather my finances first. Do you have bikes to sell?” she wondered.

"Gather her finances? What is Flo talking about?" - I wondered. Everybody knew that I was practically penniless.

“If I have bikes?" he exclaimed, hurt in his pride. "Gonzo Bikes is my company, young lady. If I don't have the bike you're looking for, I can procure it faster than anybody else, or else you get it for free from me!”

The discussion about bikes continued; Mr. Robertson was very interested, being a passionate bike-tinker, and was asking a lot of questions, and Gonzo seemed to have an answer to everything. He knew his work; it was clear bikes were his passion.

Flo was having fun talking with them; the only problem was her too-easy manners. She behaved like the fairy she was, not caring if she was revealing too much skin, and at a particular moment, I saw Mrs. Robertson's alarmed eyes looking at me as Flo had put a leg up on the chair and rested her elbow on the knee. But she was doing everything so naturally that even Mr. Robertson ceased to look funny at me.

After some time, the Robertsons retired themselves to Clara's room. I guess they thought Gonzo was courting me and decided to leave us a bit more space.

Soon, the conversation became quieter as Flo did not have any questions about bikes, but she had other questions:

“There is something that bothers you!” she said, watching him attentively. He raised his eyes and looked back, surprised.

“Well... Everybody has some problems... I mean...”

He sighed, then looked back at the carpet as if trying to learn the intricate theme.

Flo grinned, not letting him finish: “It's a girl.”

He raised his eyes again, watching me alarmed, trying to protest at first: “No, no... " then after looking into my eyes for a moment, he lowered his gaze "How do you know?”

Flo sighed.

“Oh, come on, Gonzo, it is written all over your face. What is the problem? Is she not answering as she should?”

“Answering what?” he wondered.

“Don't tell me you haven't even talked to her?”

“Oh, yes, I did...”

Flo sighed again as if she knew much more. Her tone was soft and gentle. “Sure, you did, but not about what you wanted to talk about with her. Isn't it? Why?” she seemed to be a little disappointed as she said that.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

I wondered where she got her information from and what she was now trying to achieve.

To my surprise, he answered very frankly, while his cheeks turned red. He raised his gaze for a moment.

“I did not dare. What if she laughs at me? What if she feels upset?”

Flo shrugged and took a deep breath.

“What if she expects you to talk and is disappointed that you do not?”

He shrugged in return.

“But she should somehow show me that she wants to hear from me?”

Flo laughed softly.

“What should she show? Do you expect her to blink an eye? What do you expect?”

He shook his head. “No, not that... I don't know... Something?”

Flo had enough. “Who is she?” she asked.

I wondered, "Why did she ask that? I cannot possibly know her except... Oh, fuck me? Can it be..." Yeah, that was it!

I was very disappointed when he said: “Helen. Helen Dodojanu.”

Why was I feeling disappointed? I did not really like him, so why?

“Oh, the gamer girl! Dotty!” - Flo exclaimed.

“Dotty?” - he wondered.

“Dotty is her gamer name!” - Flo explained.

It was strange to see that she remembered. I had forgotten Dotty's gamer name, but she remembered. For me, Helen was too shallow. Just a typical brunette with black eyes. Big black eyes. Ubiquitous oval face, a small nose, a bit upturned, chestnut brownish hair cut short.

His eagerness to bring Mike's device back made suddenly sense. He needed a reason to visit the gamers; that's why he took that device from me.

The conversation about Helen continued for the next ten minutes. I stopped listening to them after a couple of minutes.

I wondered, "What do they still have to talk about her?" but I didn't make the effort to listen.

I was getting tired and wanted to go back to sleep, but then I became more attentive when Flo said she wanted to send a small present to Helen because she had sent me that email. He replied that he could gladly do that for me. So, he promised to buy a bar of chocolate and a flower and bring them to Helen from me.

"Not just any flower, a flower that you really find beautiful! OK?" - Flo said.

"Sure, lady!" - he answered, nodding.

He also promised to come tomorrow evening to take me to his offices where I could look for my bike. Finally, he left, and Flo closed the door behind him.

“Why did you spend so much time talking with him?” I asked, reproachful, as soon as he left.

“Why do you sound so... bitter?" she wondered, then concluded with a snarl - "Oh, you are disappointed that he did not have a crush on you!”

I shrugged. Yeah, she got me. Well, it is my alter ego; she knows me. She continued to hammer it hard on me: “It's because you are so desperate to get attention that you want anyone and everyone to look only at you. Can't you simply be friends with somebody? He likes you, but he was already hooked by Helen. The funny part is that she seems to be totally oblivious to it. The question is, why are you so petty?!”

“Petty me?” I wondered. Was I being petty?

“Yes, you. He is a good guy, and he helped you, just when you desperately needed help. Was this not worth anything for you?”

Uh, when she put it like this, it did really hurt. Yes, true, it would have been a fantastic night to walk with the broken bike by my side all those kilometers back. Probably, I would have left the bike somewhere on the road and walked alone in the dark? Ahm...

“Okay, you are right. So you decided to play the matchmaker as a reward?”

It was hard to concede that she was right, but what use would it be to deny it?

“I decided to help him as a way of showing gratitude." she said "You often express feeling lonely; is this how you show appreciation to those who assist you? Is this how you treat your friends? It might be one reason why you feel isolated!”

She was being rather blunt.

"He's not my friend!" - I exclaimed.

Oops. I said that out loud. Did I really need my alter ego to remind me? I sighed. She was right again.

"Yeah, okay, you're right." I exclaimed defeated, "let's go back to sleep now."

"You received that email from Helen; I want to know what she wrote. She mentioned she would write when they found a way to return to the other world!"

I sighed again. The other world...

"If there's still something from the game running, we can try logging in. Okay, let's see what Helen wrote."

Actually, I wasn't feeling so sleepy anymore, but I had one of those headaches! I returned to my room and sat at the desk. I turned on the computer, and the display lit up after a couple of seconds. I clicked on the email icon. New mail! Yep!

"Dear Zetta,

I've found information for a proxy on the Hammer Gang's site that grants the necessary access. The setup details are attached. However, please be aware that it's not a proxy verified by us! Exercise caution when using it. I can confirm that the connection through it works. We've observed that it bypasses Dreamland's login servers. Warning: do not perform a complete logout. If you've already done so, your character is on Dreamland's servers, and you won't be able to use it with this setup; you'll need to start with a new character.

Cheers, Dotty"

I had the satisfaction of seeing my alter ego confused. "I'm not sure I understand." she said.

"It means it works. I didn't perform a complete logout, so Cala is still inside the game. Look, Flo, that world isn't real. It's a world supported by computers. It's a simulation."

"What's a simulation?"

Sometimes, my alter ego seems to understand everything, and sometimes, she asks such stupid questions.

“It's like building a world with sand to mimic the real world. You manipulate little sand figures, making them fight each other. You attempt to simulate real battles and observe the possible outcomes, but you need mages to create and control the sand golems. Does that help clarify things?”

“So you're saying my world is a world of golems, and I'm one of them?”

It's best to be honest with yourself, right?

“Yes, it's a world of golems, but you're not just a golem; you're a part of me.”

“And how do you think I came into existence?”

“I created you when we cast that spell inside the game. When we did that, I manifested you in my reality, in my mind.”

“I think you're missing the truth. Why are you telling me this now?”

“It's important not to get too disappointed if we don't find what we're looking for in the game. Think of computers as the mages who create and maintain the world made of sand; they keep the golems in the simulation. If some mages are missing, parts of the buildings and golems will be missing too.”

“Got it; then maybe we'll find out who's right and who's wrong soon. Let's enter this game world!”

She didn't seem as distressed as I had anticipated from my explanation. It's reassuring when you realize that your paranoia isn't as severe as you feared. I breathed a sigh of relief as I put on the dream interface.