You’re my reality, even if I’m lost in a dream

It had almost been fifteen days since Rian started their new life. Their schedule was now packed with job interviews and the recovery project to make up for the university absences. Even if some people considered the Web and App Design degree something basic, Rian's upbringing had forced them to focus on gaining skills that could bring in more money. That's why they already had credits in subjects like Metaverse and Artificial Intelligence, aiming for a future where they could land a better job in development.

Following Hannah's advice, Rian focused on searching for vacancies in companies that matched their field. However, their lack of experience and the need for immediate income pushed them to continue distributing their résumé to jobs that required physical, on-site labor—where, for better or worse, the workforce was constantly rotating.

The anxiety of going through the interview cycle again stirred up an emotional tide that only grew stronger when their first route in the game ended. Those eleven days spent glued to the phone now felt distant. A hollow space remained. The story was over.

"You just have to restart," said Hannah.

"Restart?" Rian asked as if the answer hadn't been obvious.

"You finished one route. But that was just a single character's ending. You can play repeatedly to get all the endings—good ones, bad ones, even the friend-zoned ones. There are several characters… maybe even two secret ones. Or was it three? I don't remember anymore," Hannah said, clearly disinterested in the topic.

Rian, on the other hand, was beginning to feel empty. All the effort they had poured into building a connection with the game's characters would now be wiped away—as if their own feelings had never been real.

The end of the game had hit their psyche so hard that they mourned for a whole day, fearing they'd soon face the same feeling again.

"It would be easier if I were just a piece of code, too," they thought with a sigh, weighed down by the sadness of having to repeat the entire journey and its tragedies. But the crinkle of plastic film on an envelope interrupted their thoughts and pulled them back into reality.

They slowly removed their boots, noticing they had stepped on a white paper lying carelessly on the stairs leading to the apartment. The transparent cover allowed them to read the document inside—it was addressed to Rian.

"How strange," they murmured, looking around, knowing the mailbox was far from where they stood.

There had been strange signs lately: the sound of footsteps behind them with no one there when they turned around; classmates saying someone had been asking about Rian; and now, a phone company bill with their name on it lying on the ground instead of in the mailbox. Hannah joked that now that Rian had moved out and seemed happier, people were starting to notice—and that they might even have admirers.

"But still, isn't it kind of sketchy? I mean, I wasn't raised in the city, but I'm pretty sure it's not normal to feel like you're being followed," said Mario as he walked beside Rian.

"Maybe we're just overthinking," Hannah replied. "Rian, if anything happens, call us, okay?" she asked, though Rian barely registered her words.

They started a new route, staying true to their usual answers, but this time choosing different ones to unlock new endings… and yet it felt like lying—to the characters and themself.

Days passed peacefully as Rian played again, but it was obvious the reset had affected them: their taciturn mood returned, their apathetic smile came back, and their eyes didn't need makeup to look like they had smoky eyeliner. That gloomy, heavy aura was creeping back in.

Hannah and Mario talked seriously about bringing it up but couldn't find the right way to address the issue. They didn't want to sound bossy or commanding—they didn't want to resemble the family Rian came from.

One night, during dinner, Rian suddenly jumped up and ran to their room, locking themselves in until the next morning, when Mario had to knock on their door to see why they hadn't come out for breakfast.

"Rian, it's almost 8:00 a.m. We've got the first period," Mario reasoned from outside the door.

"What? Already?!" came the surprised voice of someone who had barricaded themselves like a hermit the night before. Rian emerged from the room with tangled hair and yesterday's clothes, topped with a jacket and a different pair of pants.

"You didn't sleep all night?" Hannah asked, straightening Rian's clothes and wiping their face with a makeup remover wipe. "Oh, crap, that's not smudged eyeliner… those are real," she muttered upon trying to clean the dark circles from Rian's eyes.

Mario laughed as he smoothed Rian's messy hair.

"Not fair! Share the joke," demanded Hannah, who joined in the laughter when she noticed a cowlick stubbornly sticking up on Rian's head.

The days seemed to return to what they once were, giving Mario and Hannah the false hope that Rian had gotten something off their chest that night and was starting to bounce back. Their energy had returned. But neither imagined that this brief moment of joy resulted from a revelation: Rian had found a solution to their emotional struggles—a new personal project.

That night, they dusted off some old notes and started with the basics for creating an AI, using open-source code from the student network accessible with a university log in. Every free second Rian had—including the time they would have otherwise spent exploring new game routes—was now devoted to this idea that wouldn't leave their minds: they wanted to develop a way to communicate with their favorite character.

Hannah noticed how Rian's behavior toward the game bordered on obsession. Every conversation topic revolved around it. Mario was dying to say, "I told you so," but he knew he'd be lucky to survive saying the last syllable if he said it anywhere near Hannah—or if he dared point out to Rian that their habits were becoming unhealthy. But Rian was pouring everything into this escape from the real world, and game time had become almost as sacred as eating or sleeping.

After transferring a copy of the app to their computer, Rian thoroughly read through the code, analyzing the information to extract what they needed. They remained holed up for days. Mario made sure to swap water bottles by Rian's desk and brought them food constantly—dishes that could be eaten without utensils or that only needed a spoon.

Hannah played clockkeeper. At precise hours, she reminded Rian to shower, eat, or sleep. She also checked whether they were getting enough rest and woke them up for class or job appointments.

At this point, Hannah and Mario were more like Rian's parents than their friends. Their interventions became so frequent that when they finally confronted Rian again, they pointed out how they were slowly falling apart—but they couldn't stop. That fuel kept them going: every notification, message, interaction, and animation where Rian saw him set their hearts racing.

They were so absorbed they didn't notice they were being closely followed.

Wearing the formal outfit, Mario had lent them and the accessories Hannah had given, Rian walked down the street, more dreamlike than distracted—so much so that they didn't notice someone approaching behind and grabbing them by the neck.

"I finally found you," said a voice, all too familiar and right by their ear. "I was just walking home and looking at who I stumbled upon—the one who abandoned us—living just fine while we're drowning in misery."

"Excuse me, is everything okay?" asked a young woman who had noticed the strange behavior of the man restraining Rian by the neck. "I'll call the police if—"

"No worries, we're siblings. Right, Rian?" said the man, taller than Rian by several centimeters, reeking of alcohol and days without a bath.

The woman looked at Rian, who nodded but didn't look okay.

"If you'll excuse us, we need to talk privately," he said, dragging Rian into an alley and slamming them against the wall.

"Hey… wasn't that…?" the woman muttered as she quickly pulled out her phone.

The man extended his hand while Rian clung to their backpack.

"Give me money. Ever since you stopped paying rent, we've had nothing. We're struggling to eat. You know Mom doesn't work, and she's too old for a pension," he said in a tone so calm that it was terrifying. It was as if it was only natural for Rian to cover the expenses for the other three.

"I… I don't live there anymore. I don't owe you anything," Rian said, trembling. The reason for their fear came true as he raised his hand, just like he used to—like reading from a script.

But Rian was out of practice. They no longer knew how to brace for the blows. Dodging was out of the question—it would only enrage him more. The decision of whether to run or take the hit became paralyzing. But then the young man lowered his hand, confusing Rian.

"I see escaping did you no good. But I get why you did it. I'm sorry," he said, trying to sound remorseful—but it only made Rian more uneasy. This wasn't normal.

Trying to follow the script and escape, Rian took out their wallet.

"Fine. Take this," they said, offering half of the cash. "It's all I have. It should last a few days." They closed their backpack and tried to walk away.

But just one step later, their head was slammed into the wall. It stunned them but didn't cause bleeding.

"You think this helps?! It's not even a fifth of what you used to give!" he shouted, ripping the bag from Rian's back, tossing papers to the floor until he found the wallet and emptied it.

"Shit! There's really nothing! Not even your damn computer or that fancy-ass phone," he growled, rummaging through pockets until he heard a notification sound.

"Holy crap! It's brand new! I thought you hated this stuff. This'll sell for at least seven grand," he said, grinning, as he unlocked it—Rian had never needed a password on their old, cheap phone.

Still dizzy, Rian grabbed his clothes weakly.

“My phone… Don’t take it…”

"No way! I'll get more from selling this than whatever you had in your wallet," he snapped, freeing his arm.

But Rian clung to him again.

"Don't take it," they pleaded.

"Let go, dammit!" he shouted.

Suddenly, the game's ringtone blared at full volume.

"There they are!" yelled the girl from earlier, now with police officers—and Hannah and Mario—at her side.

"Rian!" Mario shouted, rushing to hold them. Rian still wouldn't let go of their brother.

"Sir, stop resisting, or we'll have to use force," a cop warned.

"Get your hands off me! I know my rights!" the young man shouted wildly.

"You have the right to shut the hell up!" Hannah yelled, kicking him between the legs.

Every man in the area winced in sympathy.

"My phone…" was all Rian kept saying. "Give me my phone…"

"Do you have the phone—" the officer began, but Hannah had already pulled it and Rian's money from the man's pockets.

"That money is mine!" the man shouted.

"Honestly, no one's buying that," she said, showing the now-empty wallet. "One of these bills even has the address and contact info for Rian's interview today."

She found the paper and Rian's résumé among the scattered documents.

"Sir, come with us to the station," said the officer, noticing the girl recording everything.

"Damn it… Rian!" the man yelled.

His scream made Rian tremble in Mario's arms, and he felt the forming bruise on Rian's head.

"W-Wait, officer…" Rian stammered. "That man… he's my brother. I gave him the money. He just got a little carried away."

Mario, Hannah, and even the girl filming looked stunned. The police were confused. Rian's brother looked confident the statement would get him off the hook—but they took all of them to the station anyway. He was held for 24 hours for attempted theft since Rian had requested his phone, and the man denied having it. Still, Rian refused to press charges.

Later, Rian was taken to the hospital. The company rescheduled their interview after hearing what had happened. The doctor explained everything seemed okay, but Rian might experience severe headaches and should call an ambulance if symptoms worsened.

As this news crushed Hannah and Mario's hearts, Rian simply smiled at their phone.

Despite Hannah's many complaints back home, Mario tried to calm her and ask Rian for answers—but got none. Rian was glued to their phone, cheeks flushed, smiling.

"Rian, this is serious. Do you realize what you just did?" Mario asked. He placed a hand on their head and discovered earbuds.

"Oh, for the love of—" Hannah snapped, removing them. "Rian, focus!"

"You shouldn't be rude to your mother, Rian. You could give her a heart attack," said a voice from the phone—unknown to Mario but vaguely familiar to Hannah.

"Hehehe, she's not my mom, but she sure acts like it."

"Rian, who are you talking to?" Hannah asked, stress building.

"Darling, already? I'm not ready," said the voice, acting like a bashful anime heroine. "Don't be too hard on Rian, Mother. They just escaped the MidBoss. They can't process all this yet."

Rian giggled and showed them the fruit of their sleepless efforts: Elliot waved from their phone screen.

"Pleasure to finally meet you, face-to-face. I didn't mean to interrupt, but I agree—Mom's voice could reach the Moon," said the AI on the phone screen.