by Mia Archer
Fuck that bitch Carrie and her irrational hatred of genre fiction! And yet at the same time that voice was whispering that I was just trying to escape reality.
Whatever. I’d escape reality. Reality sucked right now.
A beep. A ding. I looked up in curiosity. My message icon was blinking on my UI. Now that was interesting. Most people who I knew in game didn’t play during the day. Sure the server was online twenty-four hours a day unless it was down for maintenance, but at the same time I tended to only have friends who played at night because that was when I was on. My understanding was the place was pretty sparsely populated during the day when most of the US population was at work or at school or doing other things that people with normal lives did.
The only people on right now were mostly the unemployed, kids who didn’t have to be at school for whatever reason, or crazy girls who’d decided to cut out of their creative writing seminar a half hour early because they were upset about a bad comment they got on one of their stories.
I clicked the icon and a message popped up. Immediately I felt my pulse race. Immediately I felt blood pump through my body, course behind my ears. I felt my nipples harden and strain out towards the computer which was definitely a surprising reaction considering I was just looking at some text on a screen. The hell?
Her. Kaira. She was on, and she just sent me a message.
“How’s it going?”
Three simple words, and yet I found myself racking my brain trying to think of a way to respond to them. I desperately tried to think of something that would make me seem witty, clever, a sophisticated woman of the online gaming world, and yet my words failed me. I found myself simply responding honestly.
“Pretty fucking terrible actually. How about you?”
“Sorry to hear that,” she said. “Want to talk about it?”
The words started flowing from my fingers before I had time to think about it. This was a complete stranger, and yet something about her concern touched me. Maybe it was because I was vulnerable in the moment, but I found myself explaining everything. My class. How they’d reacted to me. My insecurities about my writing.
All that poured out into the chat window. It was the first time I’d ever talked to anybody about any of this. It was the first time I’d gotten any of this off of my chest. Megan was usually the only person I had in-depth conversations with about these sorts of things, and that was typically talking about whatever guy we were dating that week. Well, whatever guy she was dating that week. I didn’t do a lot of dating what with my busy schedule of playing video games and going to class. At least I always told myself that was the reason I never seemed to find just the right guy or lost interest after a week or two when I did seem to find just the right guy.
I always told myself that, but recent developments suddenly had me seriously questioning whether or not disinterest and a busy schedule were the real reasons why I dropped guys so fast. Not that I was going to unpack that particular bundle of anxiety. Not with the girl who was the source of it in the first place!
The cursor blinked at me from the end of the chat window. There was a long pause. So long that I started to worry that maybe I’d said too much. Maybe I downloaded too much right at the get-go. I’d just met this girl after all. I didn’t really know her all that well, or at all, even if I did have the strange feeling that I could talk to her about anything.
Great. I meet a somewhat nice girl, a girl who could turn a phrase with the best of them, and already I’d chased her away venting about all my problems and insecurities. Good job Amber. Great fucking job!
“I know how you feel,” she said.
I blinked. “You do?”
“I don’t know if you can tell, but I do a little bit of writing myself,” she said.
I smiled. She didn’t know if I could tell? As though it wasn’t obvious she was good at this sort of thing from the way she spun that scenario last night. From the way she put words to the screen so effortlessly.
“Oh no, I had no idea!”
I made sure to put in an eye roll emoticon so she'd know I wasn’t being completely serious. Meaning and tone could be difficult to convey in text.
“I do a lot of writing actually,” she said. “A lot of it for my job, and I always worry that it’s never going to be good enough. Everyone tells me it’s great, but as I’m writing I always have this little voice in the back of my head telling me everything is crap. That everyone’s going to hate it this time. That this is going to be the one where everybody realizes I just got lucky with the other stuff.”
I blinked. “You write professionally? Like novels or something?”
“Probably nothing you’ve ever heard of,” she said. “Technical writing and that sort of stuff, but still. I have that gnawing doubt. Heck, for awhile now it’s been hard for me to write anything. I’ve been coasting for awhile. Trust me. I know exactly what you feel like, and I get paid to do this stuff!”
I smiled and felt warmth spreading through my body. Here was someone who understood me. Here was a girl who knew exactly what I was going through! And the admission that she was a writer, even if it was just technical writing which was something of a four letter word in creative writing circles even though most people I knew who graduated went on to do it because they quickly discovered they couldn’t pay the rent with their literary fiction.
“So you’re saying that feeling never goes away?” I asked.
“Nope. Never does in my experience. All you have to do is learn to take that voice and squash it. Listen to it from time to time to make sure you’re not actually turning out crap, but I figure if most people around you tell you that you’re doing a good job then that’s good enough,” she said.
“What about bad reviews?”
And then I realized I was probably being ridiculous. Like she would get a bad critique when she was doing technical writing!
“Everyone’s a critic,” she said. “You just have to learn how to let that roll off of you. I can get nine people out of ten telling me what a wonderful job I’m doing at my work, and still that number ten who had a problem is going to get more attention than the nine people who told me how great I was!”
I smiled and actually laughed. I was amazed at how easily she could put me at ease. I was amazed at how quickly all of my worries from class washed away. I was actually starting to feel kind of foolish for walking out of class like that, for getting so emotional. And yet at the same time I was glad I’d gotten so emotional because it meant I came home to Kaira and getting this pep talk to cheer me up.
“So you write fantasy stuff?” she asked.
I blushed again. “Mostly. Lately I’ve just been writing stuff in Elassa because that’s where I spend most of my time, but it’s always been my favorite genre. The Elassa books have been my favorite ever since the first one came out!”
“Oh? You’ve been reading them since the beginning?”
“Of course. I’m always on the lookout for a new good book, and as far as I’m concerned Kaitlyn Morgan has been a literary genius since the first word she put to paper. I'm so jealous that she hit it so big so early! Now if only she’d get out the next one...”
“It’s always nice to find someone who’s liked the books almost as long as I have! Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person who knew about them back at the beginning,” she said. “Besides, I’m sure she has a good reason for making us wait!”
“I thought it was a revelation when I read the first book, so I really don’t care if she takes her time. I’m not like those rabid fanboys that seem to think she owes us something. My love for the books is probably why I spend so much of my time playing Tales of Elassa. Sometimes I wish I could be in that world! Other times I just wish I could craft something as amazing and original!”
“You never know,” she said. “Just look at that chick with those kinky sex books, and that started out as a fanfiction didn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, like something like that
would happen to me!”
"You never know. Like you said, Kaitlyn Morgan hit it big early and look how far she's gone. It could happen to you too."
"I'm not going to hold my breath."
“So you’re a huge fan, does that mean you’re going to Elassa Con?”
I sighed. “I’d love to go to Elassa Con! I’ve been to a few regional cons, even have a stupid costume I wear to them, but I’m afraid Elassa Con is more than a poor grad student like me can afford.”
“Pity, I was thinking of going. We could meet up,” she said. “I’d love to see that costume. ;)”
“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll go someday if I get rich off of my writing,” I said.
“I’d like to read some of your stuff,” she said.
I pulled away from the keyboard. I blinked a couple of times. I stared at the chat window. At those words burned onto my flat panel. Sure I shared my stuff in the critiques every day, sure I shared my stuff with the people I role-played with online, but there was something about this that seemed different. I was suddenly self-conscious about sharing my work with this woman. Maybe it was the way she wrote. Maybe it was knowing she did this professionally. But for whatever reason, I was hesitant.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m sure it would be boring for you…”
“No! I’m definitely interested! If you’re half as good as what you write in game then I have a feeling I’m going to be pleasantly surprised!”
I blushed and had to stop. I had to count to ten. It was like this girl was pressing all the right buttons, and I didn’t even know her real name. I had no idea what she looked like or if she was even a she. For all I knew it could be some fifteen-year-old kid who was home from school today. For all I knew she could be some old man. And yet I didn't think that was really the case. I didn't want to think that was the case. I was drawn to her in a way I hadn't been drawn to a woman before, in a way that had been missing even from my interactions with men, and to discover that it was all a lie would be crushing.
Catfishing was an ever present danger online, but something was telling me I should take a chance.
“Fine, what’s your email address?”
“[email protected]”
I arched an eyebrow at that. I was surprised she was actually able to get that email address. It’s not like Kaira was a super famous character in the series or anything, but she was a driving force in the narrative for anybody who bothered to pay attention to that sort of thing. It was the kingdom she created that led to the catastrophe that created the world I was running around in right now. The world I loved reading about so much. The world that had taken the real world by storm over the past five years with its explosive popularity. And I figured a name like that would’ve been snapped up immediately by someone who was way too into the lore like I was. Only here she was with that email.
Interesting. And it also made me respect her all the more. It was slightly cocky choosing that name, but at the same time it showed that she really knew her stuff. She really knew the story in-depth in a way that even a lot of people who'd read the books didn't because they didn't ever read any of the supplementary materials or appendices. A lot of people didn’t pay attention that deeply. They just enjoyed the action in the books or they enjoyed the boobs on the pay cable miniseries. No, that name told me this was a girl who really got the series. This was a girl who was definitely a fan.
And that made me both respect her more and want her more. Want her more? I thought about that for a moment. Thought about the strange feelings washing over me. Maybe it was just a bit of confusion in finding a kindred spirit, but I couldn't deny the heat and the rush I'd felt when I saw her sending me a message. I couldn't deny how I was feeling even if these new feelings terrified me. I might as well own up to it to myself even if I had no intention of telling Kaira and scaring her away forever.
It was ridiculous to fall for a girl over something silly like writing skills and the fact that she obviously was just as into my favorite books as I was, but there it was. People had fallen for sillier reasons than that, so why not an intense intellectual attraction? I was an intellectual woman first and foremost, and she was definitely able to stimulate my brain in a way most guys had never been able to, let alone a woman. That intrigued me. That turned me on if I was being perfectly honest, and I needed to start being perfectly honest with myself, damn it.
“Fine, I’ll send you something I worked up for class,” I said.
“No, I want your novel,” she said.
I blinked. “How did you know about that?”
“You said you’re in a creative writing program and you just got in a fight about liking genre fiction. I know you have a novel you’ve been working on. I want to see it.”
Now this really was asking too much! She was absolutely right, but I’d never share that with anyone. I even turned the screen away when Megan was in the room. Not that I’d actually worked on the thing in a while because I was so busy with the creative writing program and all the creative writing I’d been doing for the game. But still. Sharing something like that was so personal.
“Come on…” she said.
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll send you the first few chapters, but that’s it!”
“Glad to hear it.”
Damn. She was so cocky. So arrogant. So sure she’d get her way! I wondered what kind of woman she was in the real world, outside of the videogame, that she had that calm and confident demeanor. That she just assumed everyone was going to do what she asked.
I alt tabbed out of the game and opened up my email client. I had my own Elassa mail account. They called it Elassa mail, but really over the years it had morphed into a giant social network for fans of the series. I typed in her email and attached the file, but when I tried to send it at first it bounced back. I frowned. I clicked over to her profile but that was locked down too. Usually you didn't see that in the Elassa social network.
I tabbed back into the game. "Your account is locked down."
"Oh, right. Sorry." A moment passed and then the little icon that indicated she was typing popped up again. "Try now."
Again I alt tabbed out of the game. Again I drafted a mail and attached the file, but I held off on sending it for some reason. I stared at the screen, wondering if I really wanted to do this, and as I stared I realized that her whitelisting me for access to send her mail directly also allowed me to see her profile, though I wasn't going to tell her that. I figured if she was going to try and keep secrets then I was going to do the same in the name of revealing some of those secrets.
I got a good look at her profile picture. Not everybody bothered with the picture, but she had one. And I found myself staring, transfixed.
The character creator for the game meant you could pretty much write your own ticket in terms of looks. Most people chose a character who was muscular or slim in all the right places. Basically the perfect figure and the ultimate in wish fulfillment. What I’m trying to say is you didn’t see a lot of chubby characters walking around Tales of Elassa unless it was somebody who was doing it to make a point for a particular brand of role-playing.
Only as I looked at the picture attached to Kaira's profile, I wondered if she realized I was going to be able to see that picture when she gave me her email, I realized that in this case at least, assuming this was actually her and this wasn’t an elaborate catfishing expedition, there wasn’t much difference between the girl behind the computer and the beautiful character in game.
She wore a huge pair of sunglasses that obscured most of her face, but there was no obscuring the sexy contours of that face even if I wouldn't be able to pick her out of a crowd. She had the same pixie-cut short blonde hair as her character that looked unkempt but was so cute. And the rest of her. She was in a tight fitting tank top that showed off her smooth shoulders, slim arms, and what looked like a petite but incredible figure under that tight fitting tank top. I could see a strip of her stomach below and the hint of her belly button and I
found myself leaning forward to stare in a way that I never had before with a girl, but I didn't care. I was all alone in the apartment and it's not like Megan was going to walk in on me by surprise. She looked like she was anywhere from five to ten years older than me and she looked absolutely delicious.
Not for the first time since I started interacting with this woman I found myself staring at the screen while my brain short circuited. What the hell was going on here? Could that really be her? That couldn’t possibly be her! There was no way that a girl who looked that good, a girl this compelling and nice, the first girl I ever found myself truly drawn to, a girl who seemed to know what I was thinking before I even thought it myself, could be that gorgeous! The universe just didn't work that way. I wasn't that lucky. Of course it was entirely possible that I could be that lucky and still I'd be unlucky in that she wasn't into girls that way. But who knew? A day ago I would've said I wasn't into girls that way and here I was salivating over Kaira's picture.
I instantly felt self-conscious as well. If I sent her an attachment through my account at Elassa.com then she’d see my profile picture. My mess of brown hair. A face that was definitely not anything to write home about even if I did have guys pestering me all the time in what I was pretty sure were clumsy attempts to get a date. And I had a petite frame that definitely didn’t bear much resemblance to my buxom character in game. Not that I even knew if she was into tits at all, buxom or otherwise, and it's not like I was going to ask her and scare her away. Hell, I was scared enough of these strange feelings without terrifying the object of those feelings!
I thought of my profile picture and groaned. I was staring into the camera with a goofy expression that definitely wasn’t very flattering making the hand symbol of the Bendai sisterhood which figured largely in the books. The juxtaposition between that very serious hand signal and the weird look on my face wouldn’t be lost on her, but I looked absolutely ridiculous.
I couldn’t send her an email right now. I couldn’t send an email when she’d see that picture of me!
