Metavorced

Chapter 3 - Dead On Arrival

"Riaa!!!"

The aforementioned gritted her teeth frustratedly, hearing the voice of a real person from reality, snapping back from Meta. After a tough heartbreak, she had been sticking to the inside and virtual world of that forbidden headset.

"RIA!" The voice shouted once again.

"Oh My GOD! WHAT!" Ria yelled back, finally letting go of the piece, angrily heading the direction of the screaming. Stomping her feet as well. 2029, animals have gone extinct at this point. Rarely, do you see a dog around. Covid still running around causing mayhem. Luckily, world hunger has been eliminated, cures for "old-timey" diseases, like cancer and AIDS have been found. But here, right now, was when Ria started to get really serious about Meta. She had been playing for half a week by now. Living in her mum's apartment. Jobless and homeless. Her mom, too busy with her full-time job.

Things were just different, some things got better, some got worse. The world seems to be getting better, but we all know the manipulative hands of the higher power pulling at strings, especially our heart's. These were all probably set up. Those higher hands, those dirty, dirty, blood stained, higher hands. Working on top of the social work chain. The money plops right onto their plates, with the hard work of underpaid workers, putting their sweat and blood for the bucks to be used as toilet paper by powerful world leaders and such.

As she entered the kitchen where her mother was, she saw her with a hand over her mouth, even though only seeing her back, she could tell.

"Mom... what is it...?"

And her mom broke down finally.

"Connor"

That only one word, may be what drove her to this point.

This dreadful point.

I woke up to the putrid stench of expired milk and decade old, fine sour cream and onion chips dust. Woke up at around 11 in the morning today. On my couch, hair, a knotted mess, my headset on the floor, and the rest of the equipment accompanying it. My eyelids still felt heavy, exhausted from just sleeping. I honestly don't know how I would elaborate.

My temple felt like it was being pounded with a hammer or something, was I getting a hangover...? I ended up drooling all over the couch cushions though, I barely remember what I did last night. I was having a date with Klaus...and...?

I don't know, I don't remember, but that's not really a problem, my life is so boring and I do the same things everyday that I tend to forget what I did a day ago...That's just how it is, so I brushed it off.

I got up, sat on my couch and rubbed my forehead slightly, that pounding headache just won't go away, will it? I groaned in frustration, I stood up and I think I did it way too quick, because suddenly the whole room was spinning, low iron levels.

I headed to a cabinet in the bathroom, behind the mirror, were some pill bottles, I took the aspirin one and gulped down some, praying it'll make the headache go away. I can't stand anything that slightly makes me uncomfortable, I think it's been like that for way too long.

I slammed the mirror when another wave hit my head again, I clenched my fist in anger, gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, thinking as if I couldn't see that it would go away. I gasped, and I let go, I looked at myself in the mirror, and suddenly, a photo slipped out from behind it. It looked like an old photograph, with my fuzzy vision, I could only tell the orange tint that stood out. I snatched that thing and looked at it more closely.

A familiar face, a familiar red-headed boy, with what looked like freckles painted on his face, holding up a sign with a toothy grin, right beside was also a familiar looking brown girl with long raven strands cascading down her shoulder, right beside him, helping him hold the huge sign, which, with my eyesight, the best I could make out was, "GRADUATED 3RD GRAIDE", the "grade" spelled wrong, an "i" following right after the "a". With the way they spelled "grade", they probably shouldn't even be graduating third grade, I joked to myself, smiling. Behind was what looked like a stairway, leading up to an entrance, presumably a school entrance. I finally realized that the girl with jet black tresses was me, but younger, and the lobster haired boy was... Connor.

Connor...

"Connor..." I even said aloud, reminiscing the way it sounded. Connor...

A sudden tide of emotions and repressed memories hit me like a brick. I gasped, clasping my hand that wasn't holding the photo over my mouth. Connor.

Connor didn't even sound like a real name anymore, hell, it didn't even sound like a real word anymore. That peachy boy, with the sesame-like freckles and that cardinal hair. That boy who I grew up with as a kid, the boy that I grew apart from as we became older, the boy who kept me up at night thinking of our failed friendship, the boy that killed himself when we were adults. Oh my god.

Tears threatened to spill out my eyes, all those memories, flashing images I didn't want to see again, in my head. My headache got way worse after that, started pounding against my head like crazy, I broke down and got on my knees, the photograph fell somewhere on the floor but I couldn't care, covered my face with my hands, sobbing uncontrollably and suffering from that headache, goddamn aspirin.

After an image of a ruby headed boy with the brightest grin flashed in my head for that last time, I blacked out from the agony that hurt in the heart and the brain.

************

I woke up to the foul miasma of the bathroom, my headache seemed to have subsided, maybe the aspirin decided to have mercy on me. My eyelids were barely keeping up, drool pooled at the right corner of my mouth. I got up and stretched, it was probably the evening right now. Considering the greyish azure beam of light shining from the slight mirror above the shower.

I contemplated if I wanted to go back to the living room. But after remembering what happened earlier, I think a good moment to escape from reality would be nice. I got up and observed my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were noticeably puffy, red and obviously looked like I was crying my eyes out, maybe even unconsciously. Taking a deep breath I opened the tap and splashed myself with ice-cold water. Relieving my face.

I closed it back and left, I let that damned photograph rot god knows which nook or cranny in that filthy bathroom.

Plopped back on my threadbare couch, I set my equipment on and put on the headset again. I continued my same meta routine, and I quickly met up with Niklaus. He still had that cute smile and the same outfit from a month ago. I still loved him even if he didn't change his clothes.

And we're getting married, arranged February 3rd. 4 days from now on, and in Meta of course. I've planned the place, the cake, the outfits, almost everything now. No one except the bots are invited though, not many people who still found joy in things like marriages or parties, since their dopamine levels have been unbalanced since childhood.

The cake is very tall, it's a basic vanilla flavored cake, the icing is light blue and white, on top is the cheesy little mini-figurines of the bride and groom. The place is near a digitalized humble abode in the breezy and quiet but evergreen forest somewhere in northern Italy. Our outfits are the classic pure-white clad bride and the groom in an equally white tuxedo, with our secondary color of choice, light blue, just like the cake, as the tie and the little pin on his chest.

I breathed in a sigh of relief. Everything was perfectly okay now. Nothing to worry or be bugged about. No more regret, no more nostalgia, no more mixed feelings, no more sadness, no more anger. Just happiness. Just Niklaus, just Meta.