by Alexis Hall
“If Sanee was here, he’d understand.”
Tinuviel sighed. “Before you went weird, I was trying to point out that the only extra information you have about someone when you meet them in person is what they look like. So, if we’re disregarding the munter theory, I don’t see what you’re so worried about.”
“Okay,” he tried again. “But the thing is, if we ditch all the prejudice stuff, there are still things you can tell by looking at someone that you can’t tell over the internet. Like, if they’re twelve or a man.”
“I think you’re oversimplifying gender identity a bit.”
He groaned. “I don’t know why I thought I should talk to you about this stuff.”
“Well, because Sanee would say you were an idiot. Whereas I’ve spent the last ten minutes telling you that it’s probably fine, and you should see what happens. Which is blatantly what you want to hear.”
“Oh.”
She looked up and smiled. “Come on, Drew, if you really like this girl, what’s the harm? I mean, obviously, meet in a public place and tell someone where you’re going, but really, if she turns out to be twelve or a man, then what have you lost?”
Drew thought about it. And, actually, she was sort of right. Either he would meet a great girl who he also fancied, and that would be cool, or he would meet a great girl who he didn’t fancy, which might be a bit awkward and make him feel shallow, but at least he’d know. Or none of the above in which case he’d still know, and that would be better than . . . than . . . not.
“Thanks, T.”
“Anytime. I hope she’s whatever you think you’re supposed to expect her to be.”
Drew had another medusa date with Solace that night, and told himself very firmly that he was going to take the opportunity to come clean, and ask if she wanted to meet up in real life.
He did not take the opportunity to come clean and ask if she wanted to meet up in real life.
Part of the problem was that there wasn’t a good time to do it. He kept trying, but it would have seemed really weird to bring it up of nowhere when they were battling crabmen or uncovering hidden demon cults. But mostly he was just enjoying playing the game and being with Solace so much that he forgot he was supposed to be on a mission.
So, what with one thing and another, both Saturday and Sunday slipped by without him making anything that remotely resembled a move. As they were wishing each other goodnight and he was kicking himself for not saying anything again, he realised he was genuinely afraid of messing this up. Because Tinuviel had sort of been wrong. He did have something to lose, and that was the time he spent with Solace now, which was turning into the highlight of his day. And if he asked her on a date and she freaked out, that would spoil everything. And if they met up and it didn’t work, then that would spoil everything too. And maybe he didn’t want to know if she was really a twelve-year-old French boy because this was good enough that it didn’t seem to matter.
While he was finishing off his chair on Monday, with Sanee texting Steff at the next terminal, it occurred to him he actually hadn’t had a girlfriend in ages. It had been the best part of a year since he’d broken up with Abby, who’d been his obligatory disastrous first-year fling. Admittedly, he’d kind of been busy with other things, but it had been nice having someone who was sort of there for you, and not just in a knocking-on-your-mate’s-door-on-a-Saturday-morning way.
He’d never had the super squidgy twu-wuv-forevah thing that Sanee and Steff had, and he wasn’t sure he wanted it. His previous relationships—and, to be fair, there were only a couple—had been basically okay, with no expectations that they’d really wind up going anywhere. But he hoped there was some middle ground between that kind of comfortable default and calling each other Smidge. Of course, he didn’t want to be all Tinuviel about it either, and have some crazy intense passionate affair that lasted about thirty seconds like a not very good firework.
Basically he wanted someone who he liked being with about as much as he liked being with Solace and who liked being with him about as much as Solace seemed to. And someone who was into the same stuff he was into—kind of like Solace was. And if they were clever and funny and probably too good for him, then that was a bonus.
A train of thought that could best be summarised as: just ask her out already.
They’d probably hang out together in Alarion after the raid, so he could do it then.
Definitely for real this time.
He nipped out to the pub for the Monday-night special with the usual crowd, but for some reason it was really busy and his food didn’t show up for an hour. Which left him minutes to get back to his room, get online, repair his armour, double-check his gems and enchants, and make sure he had plenty of consumables. He was already halfway to CoT when he noticed the message from Morag:
Guild Message of the day: Tiff has a hot date, booyah, so Solace will be leading tonight’s jaunt into CoT, with Bjorn on loot master, assistance, and sarcasm. Thanks to Sindarella for stepping in with his storm spec. lol. Good luck, have fun, don’t do anything I would do. xxx
[Guild][Heurodis]: Get your arse in the instance and your ears into mumble noob
[Guild][Ialdir]: See this is why you don’t get to raid lead
[Guild][Heurodis]: it’s so hard when no one else lives up to your standards
[Guild][Orcarella]: sorry i’m late
[Guild][Orcarella]: dinner took ages
[Guild][Orcarella]: won’t happen again
[Guild][Jargogle]: Don’t worry, you’re not technically late
[Guild][Jargogle]: Bjorn’s just having one of his little power trips
[Guild][Jargogle]: Despite having no actual power
[Guild][Heurodis]: hey don’t make me demonstrate my power by gkicking you
[Guild][Jargogle]: You will never gkick me Bjorn. My DPS is too good.
A raid invite came in, and Drew accepted it. He might not have been technically late, but he was the last one in the group.
Ella, still wearing her tuxedo, charged into the instance like she was late for school, and while he waited for the load screen, Drew alt-tabbed and logged in to Mumble.
“—good ship Same Crit Different Day. In Morag’s absence, I’ll be your raid leader tonight, because the last time Bjorn did it, three people gquit.”
“Ah, they were all scrubs and noobs.”
Drew’s brain had gone a bit frozen. He’d heard the first voice before, but he hadn’t managed to place who it was. It was kind of a nice voice—soft, and calm, and a bit laughing and a bit posh—but what it definitely wasn’t, was a girl.
“Prospero and I will be your life force replenishment facilitation subcommittee, as usual.”
Ah. Right.
Okay.
Well, that answered that question.
“Dave and Magda will be the ministers in charge of sticking pointy objects into people. Bjorn, Jacob, Ignatius, and Mordant will be the department with general responsibility for fiery death.”
“Shadowy death,” interrupted Bjorn. “Fiery death is for teenagers who can’t play a proper spec.”
[Raid][Mordant]: Hey!!
The man-who-was-Solace sighed. “Bjorn, you are why we can’t have nice things. Ignore him, Mordant, he’s just insecure about having another diabolist on the run. Anyway, as I was saying—unless there’s anyone else you want to be rude to, Bjorn—Heurodis, Mordant, Ignatius, and Ialdir will be ranged DPS. Our tanks for this evening will be Orcarella and Sindarella. Obviously, we’ve only got two melee DPS, and our OT is a storm elementalist, so fasten your seat belts, it might be a bumpy raid. Remember we’re a good team and it’s a fresh reset so we’ve got a lot of experience with this content, so let’s stay calm, stay focused, and kick some arse.”
It was a very Solacey speech, and Drew would have enjoyed it if he hadn’t been too busy freaking the hell out.
He shouldn’t have been surprised, because he’d thought about this probably actually quite a lot. And, as far as he
could remember, she’d . . . he’d never actually said she . . . he was a girl.
Solace hadn’t actually lied or led him on. At worst he’d been slightly evasive and let Drew make a bunch of assumptions. So he had no reason to feel betrayed.
Except he did. Utterly.
What he really wanted to do was gquit, turn off his computer, and go hide in a hole forever, but that would have made him a total dick. It wasn’t the guild’s fault that he’d broken the first rule of the internet because he was trying to challenge sexist stereotypes. And also because he’d . . . really liked someone. Who happened to be a boy IRL.
But it wasn’t just about Solace. He’d been getting on really well with the guild. They were good people, and he was having fun with them. He was even enjoying raiding again for the first time in what felt like forever. Except he didn’t know how he was supposed to stick around now. Maybe Solace hadn’t been deliberately making a fool out of him, but that was basically what he’d done.
The raid . . . well . . . the raid happened. It went about as well as it could have done with only two melee DPS, two diabolists, a storm-specced OT, and a main tank who was really pissed off with the raid leader. Half the time, he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to yell or lie down and cry. Everyone else seemed to be having a good time, which basically made everything worse. It wasn’t like Drew wanted to ruin everyone’s evening, but it would have been comforting to know he had the option. And he couldn’t say anything because he’d be the one left looking like a desperate pillock.
On top of all that—to really rub it in— Solace turned out to be a pretty good raid leader. He wasn’t like any RL Drew had ever run with before. Morag was firm but fair, and the officers in Annihilation had been basically merciless, but Solace was just kind of Solace. He was softly-spoken and gentle and unfailingly polite, but somehow you ended up wanting to do better.
Even when you were absolutely hating the guy.
Under different circumstances, it would have been a really positive experience. There was something reassuring about Solace’s voice in his headphones, calling alerts and directing strats. He was actually really on the ball, and a couple of times managed to switch strategies midfight, which saved them from screwups Drew was pretty sure would have caused wipes otherwise.
And he healed too.
Drew got sadder and sadder as the evening went on.
[Ialdir] whispers: you okay?
[Ialdir] whispers: you seem quiet
To [Ialdir]: just tired
They called it before Vilicus, because it was getting late and they weren’t entirely sure they had the right raid comp, but people seemed to agree it had gone well. While everyone was saying their good-byes, Drew teleported to the City of Stars, intending to log out immediately and hide under his duvet for the next million years.
[Solace] whispers: Um, are you okay?
Drew stared blankly at the tell, wondering what on earth he was supposed to say.
To [Solace]: not really no
[Solace] whispers: um
[Solace] whispers: you thought I was a girl, didn’t you?
[Solace] whispers: That’s why you were so nice to me
To [Solace]: don’t want to talk about this
He logged out, turned off his computer, and crawled into bed. Where he lay in a weird nonspace, kind of wanting to cry but not being able to, and kind of wanting to sleep but not being able to. His thoughts had got snarled up and stuck, and he couldn’t unsnarl them or unstick them. Because Solace had sort of been right and sort of been wrong. Drew hadn’t only spent time with Solace because he thought he was a girl. He genuinely liked the time they’d had together. But, the fact remained, it probably wouldn’t have gone that far if there hadn’t been at least the possibility that Solace would turn out be this hot geeky chick who, for whatever reason, was totally into him.
And now it felt like he’d lost everything: a friend, the chance of whatever he thought there was a chance of, Solace.
With all that buzzing around in his head, he didn’t know what time he got to sleep, but when his phone alarm went off, he silenced it and stuck his head back under the pillow. He really didn’t feel like doing anything today. He sort of dozed his way to midday, but then he reached that awkward point of needing the toilet more than he needed to wallow in misery.
So he slid out of bed, pulled on a pair of pyjama bottoms, and shuffled down the corridor to the communal bathrooms.
The effort sapped what remained of his spirit, so he went back to bed. Eventually, though, he got bored of staring at the ceiling and feeling sorry for himself, so he grabbed his copy of Hawkeye: My Life as a Weapon and started comfort reading. Lots of pictures and not many words felt like all he could cope with at the moment. Also, he’d always been secretly into Hawkeye because he loved the idea of a superhero whose only power was “I’ve got a bow.” It was less a power, more a lifestyle choice, and the reboot was sort of milking that for all it was worth. Drew liked to think of it as Hawkeye: My Life as Some Dude.
About halfway through the storyline where Clint archives his ludicrous collection of gimmicky weapons, Drew caught himself wondering if Solace had read it, and if he liked superheroes and, if so, which.
And that left him sniffling into The Tape, Part 1.
There was a knock at the door and, without waiting for a response, Sanee and Tinuviel barged in.
Drew threw Hawkeye aside and dived back under the covers, worried he looked exactly how he felt. “This totally isn’t the time guys.”
Sanee annexed the only chair in the room. “You didn’t come to lab, you’re not answering your phone, we haven’t seen you all day, it’s totally the time.”
“Are you okay?” asked Tinuviel, curling up on the end of his bed.
“If I said I was fine, would you piss off?”
Sanee shrugged. “Probably not.”
“Is this about that girl?” Tinuviel gave her patented curious head-tilt.
“Did she turn out to be a dude?” There was an uncomfortable silence. “Oh fuck.” Sanee put his hands over his mouth. “She did.” Then he giggled, which really didn’t help.
Drew burrowed deeper. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s a bit funny.”
“Not for me, it isn’t.”
He poked his head out from under the duvet in time to see Tinuviel giving Sanee a shut up look before she turned back to Drew. “How did you find out? Did you meet him?”
“No, he was leading the Monday raid. And he was definitely a dude.”
There was a long silence.
“Man,” sighed Sanee. “I know I totally told you this was going to happen, but I’m really sorry for you.”
Tinuviel pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “Well, yes and no. I mean, I think what you need to ask yourself is how much this changes things.”
Drew gaped at her. “Um, it completely changes things?”
“Why?”
Sanee sat forward on the chair. “T, are you being deliberately dense?”
“That’s a very strange question. The way I see it, Drew’s met somebody he likes. He’s clearly sad at the thought of losing him. So the question is: why should he?”
“How about: because he’s not gay.”
“Well, neither I am, but I’ve still had sexual relationships with people who defined as female.”
“Yes, but you’re a girl.”
Tinuviel sighed deeply. “If our friend wasn’t in the middle of a crisis, I’d be quite cross with you right now.”
“I’m not in a crisis,” interrupted Drew. “I’m just bummed.”
“Poor choice of words, mate.”
“Sanee!” chorused Drew and Tinuviel.
He held up his hands. “Oh come on, you walked into that one.”
“Look,” snapped Drew, “something mildly upsetting happened to me. I just want to take a day to feel sorry for myself about it. I don’t need you making gay jokes, or you telling me that’s it not a big deal
, because, I’m sorry, we weren’t all raised by polyamorous hippies. How am I supposed to tell my mum I’ve suddenly started dating a boy?”
“You could try, ‘Mum, I’ve started dating a boy,’” suggested Tinuviel. Unhelpfully.
“Or just don’t tell her.” Sanee stroked his chin thoughtfully. “But, you never know, they might be cool. Steff was convinced her mum would freak out at her dating a South Asian guy, but either she was actually fine about it or she was really, really scared of looking racist.”
“So you’re basically telling me, I have to hope my parents are really, really scared of looking homophobic?”
“Or,” added Tinuviel, “they’re just not bigots.”
Drew put his head in his hands. Tinuviel leaned over and patted him gently on the shoulder.
“Can I just point out,” she said, “that your main issues have been that Sanee has laughed at you, and that your parents might not like it.”
“So?”
“Well, this is obviously quite hard for me because, as a pansexual, I really don’t understand people whose sense of attraction is informed by gender identity or biological sex. But I think if I was monosexual, my main objection to a relationship with someone who was not of my preferred gender would be that I just wasn’t into them. Maybe I’m wrong, but your problem doesn’t seem to be that you’re not interested in this person, but that you still are.”
While Drew was sorting through that, Sanee steepled his fingers like a supervillain. “Dude, are you gay?” There was a pause. “Like, it’s okay if you are.”
Drew glared at him. “I think I’d have noticed.”
Tinuviel raised a hand. “I suspect you’ll think this is a weird question, but what would you have noticed?”
“Well . . .” Drew hated it when T did this. She’d ask you something to which the answer was so screamingly obvious that you’d immediately start second-guessing yourself. And, right now, that was the last thing he needed. “Fancying guys for a start?”
“Maybe you just haven’t met any guys you fancy. I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re not attracted to Sanee . . .”
Sanee made a valiant attempt not to look horrified. “You’re not, right?”