The Neon God

II

When love is found it comes with pain

Because their hearts become their bane.

Self-expression makes them queasy,

Despite the fact it should be easy,

But the fact remains that nothing easy comes

Unless it's from

A message in the sound of silence.

I got to my apartment as quickly as I could so I could relax. Like most people, I can only really and truly feel comfortable at home. Mom and Dad tell me that when they were my age people could still get comfortable quickly in other places, too, but that world is long gone now. Today it takes months or years for people to get accustomed to new environments. We've grown up with an instinctive social anxiety that has us eternally locked in the fear of judgment from every person we see. When I'm safe in the comforts of home, part of me realizes how stupid that is. I never have time to judge people when I'm out in public because I'm too busy worrying about being judged myself. That doesn't stop me from being in constant mental discomfort whenever I'm out in public.

Because of that it's nothing short of a miracle in my eyes I was mostly able to keep my composure while I was with Liz. Normally in the presence of any nonrelative girl, let alone a very attractive nonrelative girl, I'm almost entirely incapable of existing. Sometimes I even get anxious looking at the celebrities on the holoboard ads. Liz was somehow different, and I wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Once I set my stuff down in my room I immediately fired up my desktop monitor. Granted, it's only a desktop because that's where I choose to put it. The machine I use with the monitor is only about the size of my dad's old school laptop, and it's equally portable. It's my most prized and valued possession, in part because it's where I go to get away from it all.

On that tablet are the lines of code and connections I need to be able to interact with my friends. There I can be happy. There I can have just the faintest taste of what life must have been like when people could talk to each other in person with ease. I don't even remember a time like that, but somewhere deep in my soul hurts because that deep part of my soul knows we're not supposed to be this way. We're supposed to be social creatures who live and die by the human contact we do or don't receive. Some time ago, that all changed, so there I sat watching lines of code make manifest the best substitute for human contact which I could will myself to access.

Discord may have been around for decades, but it's still reliable. Once cellular service became inefficient and ineffective with the ever-taller buildings going up, Discord and the Internet became people's preferred communication method. The company's value skyrocketed to the point that it found itself among the giants in the industry. It should come as no surprise, then, that I found my friends eagerly awaiting me when I finally hopped into the voice channel. We had a little server just for us, but we called it a group chat because something about calling it a server would have made it less genuine, we had agreed. We decided to call ourselves the Electric Sheep. I hope I don't have to explain what that means.

There were sixteen of us in all. Some of us knew each other from having been in school together, and the group expanded from there to include people we met in online adventures along the way. Most of us were around the same age, too, which was a big plus. There were only five other people in the voice channel when I finally arrived, but they were very excited by the prospect that I hadn't melted into a pile of steaming goop when I met an attractive girl. I told them the story as best I could remember it and the Inquisition began in earnest.

"How the bloody hell did you get so lucky?" asked snowdude01, a Brit who wanted to fly for the Royal Air Force someday.

"You didn't say anything stupid, did you Senecus?" asked 7866kiddycart, an Angelino who took some of the best photos I'd ever seen.

"Did you get her Discord number?" asked SpaceCowboy, a Texan with a heart as big as his home state.

"Do you think she likes DDR?" asked purnt, who lived in the Bay Area and seemed to have an unhealthy attachment to arcade dancing games.

"Whatever you do, don't ever fart in her presence because if you do you'll probably crap your pants," offered Nanzy, a fellow St. Louisan who could actually give some really good advice when you'd ask for it.

"Come on, guys, I only just met her. Let's not get too carried away here," I replied to all of them at once.

"Bollocks to that. Getting carried away is too much fun," chirped snowdude as the others voiced their assent.

Once that chatter died down the Cowboy piped up again: "What's your next move?"

"I haven't got a freakin' clue. I was sort of hoping you'd be able to help me figure it out."

"Well, you know where she lives, right?" asked Nanzy. "Go over there and just say hi or something."

"If it were that easy I'd do it. You and I both know that's not how it works. She'd probably think I'm a stalker or something."

"I'm not seeing any downsides here, Senecus" said Nanzy unironically before he let out a little snicker in spite of himself.

"Shut up," I laughed, "and actually help me come up with a damn plan."

"Well," mused kiddycart, "do you know when you'll see her again?"

"No. I have no way to know that."

"I think there's a way to make that possible. You just have to stealthily sit in the lobby of the classroom building until you see her pass by on Monday afternoon, walk out when you see her, and try and strike up a conversation as you walk home."

"kiddycart, I'm trying not to look like a stalker, remember?"

"She won't notice you until you're out there next to her, and that's all that matters," he observed.

"I think you should go for it," said the Cowboy.

"I agree. Do it," added Nanzy.

"I don't see much you could lose, honestly," stated snowdude.

"Sorry guys. I was AFK practicing my DDR. What'd I miss?" chimed in purnt. We all let out an audible groan and went through the plan step by step to make sure it was absolutely foolproof. The game was officially afoot.