Daryl, My Artificial Boyfriend (A Daryl Dixon Fanfic)

Chapter 1: The Zombie Show Phenomenon

DARYL, MY ARTIFICIAL BOYFRIEND

A WALKING DEAD Fanfiction

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Disclaimer: I was downloading games for my tablet when I came up with this story idea. For some reasons, I playfully tried to look for a virtual boyfriend app. I found anime looking/characters being used as subjects for this kind of apps, then I told myself, "I want a virtual Daryl boyfriend!" I couldn't find one and that's when I decided to just write a story about having Daryl as an "artificial" boyfriend. Then, I also remembered that there's a manga (that I haven't read) with same/similar story idea: Absolute Boyfriend.

So yeah, the idea is not original, it's similar to Yuu Watase's manga. Daryl belongs to AMC and TWD belongs to whoever legally owns it. This is just written for pure fun. Please don't flame me. But do let me know what you think. *wink wink

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Chapter 1: The Zombie Show Phenomenon

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Everyone's obsessed with the zombie show, but I couldn't care less.

I'm Emyli; at twenty-three, people mistake me for sixteen or seventeen. I think it's because I'm small—barely reaching the five-three mark with long, straight, black hair and bangs framing my tiny face. I work for a local theater as costume maker and designer and my workmates call me the Ice Queen—for being cold and stoic. I don't know what's wrong with being quiet. I keep my two cents to myself but then they would always try to get me to speak up. And when I do, they'd hate me for being blunt.

Anyway, since there's no way for me to cover my ears and eyes, I had to watch and listen to my co-workers talk animatedly about this zombie show. They're crazy about this particular character named Daryl. They would exchange sexual fantasies about this crude, fictional character and I had to listen while I sew dresses and suits. It was fine by me. It's good entertainment, really. Quite amusing. One day, Anna showed me a life-size hologram image of their zombie show hero and tried to elicit a response from me. I just stared at it and said, "He's scruffy." Ever since then, they left me back to being a non-responsive bystander.

The zombie fans of our group theater started buying the much-awaited, newly-released zombie show products over the internet during the mid-season 3 break. Huge packages arrived containing the usual fan stuffs like: android boyfriends (each of my female workmates has the Daryl Dixon model) and life-size replicas of zombies. (One of them bought this zombie girl named Anna or Hannah and they tried to pull a prank on me with it. I spent the night in the dressing room to finish a set of costumes and when I opened the cabinet, a half-eaten human, complete with dangling intestines and spine, was groaning and trying to reach me with rotten hands. I had paused and stared at it, contemplating if I should kick it on the face or if I should just close the door and let it be. My workmates hiding behind the pile of costumes were disappointed and mad at me for not giving them the reaction they wanted to see). Aside from those, peculiar little things were also delivered like: action figures, shirts and cups and saucers with zombie show characters printed on them.

"Things are getting weirder," Daniel, the bespectacled assistant script writer had whispered to me as we watched our workmates claim their packages. He too, apparently was not watching the show. I stared at him blankly, not believing that this usually quiet and elusive person just talked to me—the most uncaring person.

I just shrugged, "whatever floats their boat," I muttered and walked away.

The zombie show merchandise bought by my workmates shouldn't have bothered me until they started keeping the pack of Daryls inside the walk-in closet (where I primarily work)—whenever the Daryls are charging or if they're becoming too restless for not seeing squirrels. It's kind of annoying having five or six androids of the same model roaming around while I work, scowling and marauding. (One time, a Daryl ripped the sleeves of a freshly sewn shirt and put it on without asking permission). I actually didn't have any idea why they even bothered to buy a Daryl model for their mechanical boyfriend—he's not anywhere near boyfriend material.

Things got worst when the packages containing crossbow replicas arrived. The girls immediately gave these to their Daryl androids. Now I have to evade arrows, I thought to myself back then. I learned to stay still as a totem pole while I stitch and patch costumes as the Daryl rascals like to shoot at whatever's moving.

One day I went home very tired from babysitting the pack of mechanical rednecks.

"Are you aware of this zombie show-?"

"The Walking Dead?" Kate, my younger sister completed for me as she drank her orange juice. She doesn't look like me: She's tall and very pretty, with wavy brown hair. I nodded. "Yeah. The team made me watch a couple of episodes."

"Well?" I urged her to continue.

"It was okay," Kate said thinking and remembering. "I'd watch more episodes if I could."

We don't have a television at home. When I'm not working, I draw. Kate is in college and a baseball player; when she has spare time, she sleeps for long hours. Our retired Navy soldier dad usually hunts in the woods at the back of our house. As a family, we go outdoors whenever we have mutual free time. So, really, no time and no need for a television. In the age of robots and virtual reality, our family is backwards like that.

"Do your team mates also have Daryl androids?" I asked. Kate eyed me suspiciously; I sure sounded uninterested with my flat tone of voice but she's not used with me being inquisitive.

"Yeah…" she replied nonchalantly. "Those lots lose their temper every ten minutes it has driven the coach crazy. She banned bringing Daryl boyfriends weeks ago. Imagine if they bought the Shane model instead…that'll be crazier. Or Ed! It's unbelievable that model even made it to the market."

"Right," I muttered. "My female workmates leave their androids in the closet where I work. The Daryls keep on calling me girlie…always with a scowl on their faces." I paused. "Ï wonder why that rogue is so popular."

Kate chuckled. "He could be charming," she said. I stared blankly at her, not believing.

"Charming?" I repeated. "To his squirrels, maybe."

Kate laughed again. I didn't know that the joke was on me as a few days after, I found myself ordering my own The Walking Dead android boyfriend.

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Next Chapter: What convinces Emyli to get an android lover...