The afternoon sun poured through my bedroom window, illuminating the chaos of my tiny studio apartment. Sketchbooks, paint-stained brushes, and open textbooks cluttered my desk. Empty mugs were stacked in precarious towers, and my VR headset lay tangled in its cables at the foot of my bed.
I stared at my laptop screen, and then I shut the laptop with a sigh and flopped backward onto my bed. My phone buzzed against a pile of unfolded laundry somewhere in the corner.
I grabbed it, squinting at the screen.
[Devon: Hey. You eaten today?]
I snorted, typing back.
[Me: yes, I ate… cereal counts as a meal, right?]
Devon’s reply was immediate:[Devon: ...No. I’m coming in. Don’t argue.]
I chuckled, tossing my phone onto the bed. “ Incoming boss battle: Stepbrother Devon.”
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Devon’s voice carried over the grocery store aisles as he pushed the cart with one hand and balanced his phone in the other.
“Kiera put the hot sauce down. You have three bottles at home.”
“But what if I need a different flavor profile?” I argued, clutching the bottle dramatically.
Devon sighed like a man carrying the weight of the world. “You don’t even cook.”
“I make instant noodles!”
“And drown them in hot sauce.”
A nearby older lady gave us a grin as she passed with her cart, ‘You two are so cute together.’ Devon and I exchanged a look before looking away, my cheeks growing hot. In my embarrassed state, he snatched the hot sauce bottle from my hand and tossed a pack of frozen dumplings into the cart instead.
“Eat something with protein, Ki. You can’t survive off spicy noodles and coffee forever.”
I pouted, crossing my arms as I trailed after him. “You’re such a mom.”
Devon paused, a mischievous grin forming on his face. “Fine. You can pick one thing—one—that has zero nutritional value.”
“Say less.”
I practically skipped to the candy aisle, grabbing an obnoxiously large bag of sour gummy worms. Devon rolled his eyes with a smile and didn’t stop me.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
As we loaded our bags into his car, I leaned against the door, chewing on one of my victory gummy worms.
“You know,” Devon said as he pulled out of the parking lot, “for someone battling literal cyber-monsters and secret hacker guilds in-game, you’re wildly incapable of basic survival tasks in real life.”
I grinned. “That’s because my stats are all in charisma and shadow magic, Dev. Zero points in ‘Cooking’ and ‘Basic Nutrition.’”
Devon laughed, shaking his head as we drove back to my apartment.
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After unloading the groceries and being thoroughly lectured about cleaning out my fridge (Devon’s words: ‘How did you let lettuce turn into sentient goo?’), I found myself hunched over my sketchpad, pencil in hand.
A half-finished drawing of Selene stared back at me—her sharp amber eyes captured in graphite strokes, shadows curling around her figure as they did in the game.
“You’ve been sketching her a lot,” Devon said from the couch, where he was scrolling through his phone.
I paused mid-stroke, cheeks heating up. “She has… a very drawable face.”
Devon raised an eyebrow. “A drawable face, huh?”
“Shut up.”
He grunted but didn’t press further.
My pencil moved across the paper again, adding texture to Selene’s cloak, the faintest hint of moonlight glinting off her daggers. There was something cathartic about translating the game world into something tangible—something I could touch and see outside of the VR headset.
“So… did you tell her you thought she was…cute?” Devon asked, his voice having a strange tone I couldn't make out.
I froze, the pencil tip breaking against the paper.
“Devon!”
“What? I’m just asking…need to know who's around you.”
“Geez, Dev.”
“Alright, alright! I’ll stop.”
I heard a change of tone in his voice, and his shoulders released. I couldn't make out why.
Later that night, Devon was sprawled across my couch, one arm draped dramatically over his forehead. His sock-clad feet were propped on my coffee table, and the faint glow from his phone lit up his face.
I was perched next to him, my legs on his lap, a steaming cup of instant noodles in one hand and chopsticks in the other.
“This is the height of culinary excellence,” I said, holding up a noodle like it was fine art.
Devon raised an eyebrow. “You know, somewhere out there, Gordon Ramsay just got heartburn and doesn’t know why.”
“His loss.”
We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, his hand massaging my leg, the quiet whispers of the television, and the hum of my fridge filling the silent space.
We stayed like for several hours just me and him.
Later that night, I sat on my bed, staring at my VR headset resting on the pillow beside me. My sketchpad lay open on the desk, Selene’s amber eyes staring back at me from the half-finished drawing.
I sighed, picked up the headset, and lowered it over my head. Then, I lay down on the comforter.
As the system booted up, and the faint hum of Eidolon Nexus filled my ears, I whispered:
“Here we go.”
The world turned black, then bright—colors bleeding into focus as the game loaded.