I snuggle my head under his chin as he leans down and pulls a nearby sofa throw over us. “I don’t want to go out today. I want to spend as much time alone with you as I can before I leave tomorrow.”
And the tears are back. Carefully hidden and banned from spilling.
When he leaves.
22
Life moves on, but remains still. A large part feels further tied to the game, wanting to spend time around Aaron in any way, because this is the only way to be close to him. He’s spoken about catching up, mentioned he has a business trip back to Perth happening in two months, and will see me then.
Two months.
But I can’t afford a trip to Sydney—not that he’s invited me—and he has a good job, but who can pay to fly over here every few weeks?
I don’t admit this kills me every night as readily as any elite mob.
I get by with speaking and Skyping, even when playing. Seeing Aaron’s face and reactions to what’s happening in game amuses me, especially during raids. We keep a closeness he doesn’t share with the others.
The banter between us in guild chat continues, interspersed with whispers. Occasionally I forget to switch off my mic when I talk one on one with Aaron, but so far nothing embarrassing has been said.
The whole team relaxes into a cohesive unit. Aaron’s influence upped our game, his bossy nature clashing with some occasionally, but the results speak for themselves. The other day, I received a message in game from another guild, asking if I wanted to join them instead. These guys are the biggest and best on the server and, although flattering, I have loyalty to the people I’ve known for years.
I mention it to Aaron, who remains silent for a few moments before admitting he was asked the same question. What shocks me is he considered it.
“Do you often guild hop?” I ask him.
“You mean because I joined you guys out of the blue.”
“Kind of.”
“That was a server transfer.”
“Oh. Okay. Do you do that a lot?”
Silence reflects back again. “No. Once or twice. Besides, I can’t leave because I have the market to dominate. How’re your sales?”
“You need to teach me more, wise one,” I say sarcastically. “And nice deflection by the way.”
“What? And have you take over my market. Nope.”
I huff. “I don’t have time to farm anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’ve decided to get a life.”
Aaron chuckles. “Good to hear. Any more thoughts on studying? Travelling?”
“Not yet.” But plans form. Recent events, i.e. him, have pulled my mind away from focusing only on my in-game life and into reality. Some days, when I miss Aaron too much because I want to see him after a bad day, I stay away from the game because I want to hold the emotions inside.
I also admit I’m bored with the latest expansion and running out of quests. I consider creating an alternative character, to start the game play again from scratch. I have approximately ten characters who I play at different times, and it recently struck me how this reflects my life. I can’t focus on the end game, instead pulling myself backwards and starting again rather than face a future.
Although my friends nag me about wasting my life, Aaron actively helps. He begins sending me links to graphic design courses. At first this irritates me, and I take it as a criticism. But chatting to him, I realise he’s genuinely trying to help. He asks to see more of my work and puts me in touch with some creatives at his agency, who chat to me about their career progression. I’ve no desire to work in the corporate world, and switch to looking at sites where artists upload work, and some sell. Eventually I pluck up the courage to add a profile.
I redirect hours from gaming to this, as I spend more time on artwork than playing. This creates a double-edged sword: my life progresses, but I see and speak to Aaron less.
I’m becoming better at the leaving the house and socialising face to face too, as I relax amongst people in the outside world. Erin suggests I treat my nights out as a quest and I joke the colours are better than on my computer screen, but the quests are harder and storylines less interesting.
Tonight, we meet at our usual bar, and sit at our usual table. This I can handle. Erin sips her drink as Tyler and Cole chat. I’m tired after a long shift at work and the vodka isn’t helping.
“Is Aaron visiting soon?” she asks. “You mentioned he was.”
“Business trip he’s extending by a couple of days. He hasn’t firmed up a date yet though.”
“You should go over there some time, you’ve never visited Sydney.”
“I haven’t been invited.”
“Yet.” She rubs her nose. “I don’t think I could have a long-distance relationship. Too hard. I’d need one of us to move cities or end it.”
I blink at her bluntness. “Right. Give me a chance, it’s only been a couple of months.”
“Mind you, after the morons I’ve met recently… I’d consider anything with a normal person.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I know as much about Aaron’s personality and how he treats people as I would if we’d spent all our time together face to face.”
“But the problem is, he can’t treat you like that in reality.” She cocks a brow. “Physically.”
I wipe condensation from my glass, refusing to be drawn into the conversation. Sex with Aaron… Holy hotness. We’ve had drunken conversations over Skype about our exploits but I’ve asked him to stop because I miss him more afterwards. However, I deal with the frustration later; nothing soothes the ache for him when I’m alone at night.
Deep down, I know Erin’s right; the online relationship can’t work long term because I need to experience the intensity we have when he’s with me. I don’t just mean physical, but the connection that swirls around my belly and clenches my heart. The one where he holds my hand or graces me with a dimpled smile which fades everyone else from the room. One I fill with things outside of the game. Ironic I’m moving on, but not in a direction that makes me happy.
“Hey, Evie,” interrupts Tyler. “Saw the latest work you added to Deviant. The hot Elf. Was that me?” He brushes his top with mock pride and grins.
“Yeah.”
“Thanks for the extra muscles you added.” Tyler laughs.
“You need them.”
Tyler pouts as I throw him a smirk. My artwork continues to morph into an Evie-style rather than earlier when I’d copy images I’d seen in manga or games. This has become my own mash-up, fantasy characters pulled from the game but with altered clothing and situations. Depending on my mood, they can be bright or dark, but almost always in conflict.
“I haven’t seen you draw Thorsday yet,” he bats back slyly. “Will that one be a romantic picture?” Tyler makes a kissing face. “Or NSFW?”
“Nah, one of Sinestre duelling him and blasting the guy to the ground.”
“I thought you two were…” He makes inverted commas with his fingers. “‘Friends’.”
“Friendly rivalry. You know that.”
Tyler nods. “Yeah. Actually, I was gonna chat to you about switching back to damage-dealing while Thor’s away.”
I straighten in an attempt to hide my surprise. “Away when?”
“He told me he’ll be absent from raids for a week and won’t have a chance to get online.”
I frown. “Oh.” He’s going incommunicado and told Tyler before me?
“Ah, shit. Foot in mouth. I thought you’d know.”
“Aaron doesn’t need to account his every movement to me.” But my sinking heart tells me different. “Did Aaron say where he was going?”
“Nope. He only told me today, though.” His rueful smile and offered excuse does little to improve how I feel.
“No problem,” I say with a forced smile. “And yes to DPS. You’ll be sorry you ditched me in the first place once you see my new stats.”
The evening ends early;
my tiredness and need to speak to Aaron about the situation push me home. But I really don’t have any right to demand from Aaron where he goes and what he does. Sure, I can ask, but besides the things he’s shared, his privacy remains intense.
Each night before I sleep, we chat via Skype. Often he initiates the call because the Sydney time zone is currently two hours ahead of Perth, and I’m worried I’ll wake him. Otherwise, he texts with a promise to talk tomorrow. We’ve moved on from our late-night questing together; we both admit the situation was an excuse to spend virtual time together as our relationship grew.
Tonight is a text night.
Aaron’s commissioned artwork, and insists he’ll buy from me, while I insist I won’t accept payment. He wants me to draw Sinestre, alone, battling the tiger. I laughed at him, but he’s serious. Drawing myself feels weird; even though she’s not me I still feel I’m creating a self-portrait.
Why are we texting tonight? Doesn’t he want to speak to me?
The words I expected spoken; inevitable from the man who told me he wasn’t sure long distance could work. My mouth dries.
I watch the bubbles on screen, indicating he’s replying, for several minutes. This is either one hell of a long message or there’s a lot of typing and deleting happening.
Wow. Back to few words. The dull pain that rests in my chest every day because he’s absent triggers again. Why did I let myself fall for this man?
I chew a nail, a heavy sadness descending as no reply bubbles appear on my phone screen.
The phone rings. Aaron.
“Hey,” I say voice hoarse, and clear my throat.
“Don’t be upset with me, Evie.” His voice is low, cajoling.
“I’m not. You’re just being vague again, Aaron.”
“I have a lot on, right now. Things will settle down.”
Things?
“Why are you hiding yourself again? I thought we were opening up?”
“Can we not have this conversation now? I have other things in my life I need to do that I don’t feel like talking about. This isn’t just about the game or just about—”
“Just about me?” I interject. “I don’t delude myself I’m important to you.”
“You are, Evie, but I can’t give you more than I have available right now.”
I bite back the desire to say that isn’t much anyway, but arguments on the phone when I won’t see or possibly speak to him for a while isn’t wise. I’ve enough instances of non-verbal cues causing misunderstandings in interpersonal relationships.
“I understand,” I lie. “Just call me when you can.”
“I’ll be thinking about you,” he says in a soft voice. “And I’m sorry I’m letting you down by not keeping my word and visiting.”
“It’s all good. Honestly.” What a freaking lie.
The unspoken stays between us: ‘This is too hard’.
“I’ll visit sometime soon. I promise.”
“Sure. Okay.” Does my attempt at a light voice fool him? Because it doesn’t fool me.
We switch to light banter but my heart’s not in it as I struggle under the weight of our conversation.
For the first time in weeks, when Aaron ends the call I fire up my computer and open the game instead of lying down to sleep. The character creation screen appears and I choose a new one; a male Human Warrior. I’m back to level 1 again where I can breeze through the simple starting zones. I’ve completed the starter quests many times and can follow the levelling routine I’ve perfected. The game developers want new players through this free content quickly and onto the paid areas to capture people into paying a subscription. The gameplay is predictable. Easy. And I’m rarely badly hurt.
The hard quests that my maximum level Sinestre attempts daily are unfamiliar and difficult. With her, I spend hours putting in too much effort, in return for disappointment and little reward.
Starting the game again puts everything back in my control.
I swallow down the lump rising in my throat as the real world refuses to stay out of my zone.
He could’ve asked if I wanted to visit him in Sydney if he couldn’t make a trip to Perth.
23
The red dragon sprawls across the cavern floor, dwarfing the twelve players responsible for the creature’s demise. Tyler dances as close to the corpse as possible, and I scroll through the combat figures while we wait for the loot distribution.
“Making progress! Oh, yeah!” calls Lorlien in a sing-song voice. “Thor’s gonna be so pissed he missed this.”
“And that Sin’s DPS aced his,” replies Tyler. “Good job.”
I ignore the dagger-like stab when his name’s mentioned. Aaron hasn’t played for two weeks, and I haven’t heard from him in this time either. His name still appears on the guild list which means he’s still on the server and part of our group, but the last time Aaron logged on was two weeks ago. Who knows? He could be playing a different character detached from the guild, like I often do, or could have other high level ‘alts’ elsewhere that he’s switched back to.
“Told you I was better than him,” I reply.
“I think you are, Evie,” says Tyler in a low voice. “In a lot of ways.”
“Because he screwed over the guild by leaving and not explaining why?” asks Lorlien, ever the guy to tell things how they are.
“We don’t know that; Aaron could just be away somewhere, like he said. He’s still in the guild,” I reply.
“Or he was pissed off with our shitty progress and is playing elsewhere. The guy was online so much he probably has one of every class. I bet he has another account he plays.” Lorlien echoes my thoughts, which I don’t need right now.
I back out of the conversation. Their words apply to my life, to us, and raises the question Erin did the other day. I knew little concrete about the guy, and fooled myself I did.
Is he playing alternative characters—or alternative girls?
A small, logical part denies he is. When could Aaron meet these girls? Unless he never slept, Aaron hardly had time offline to see people. In his absence, I admit I stalked him a little—which I justify to myself isn’t bad because I could’ve dug around much earlier. I found Aaron’s name listed on the website at the firm he told me he worked for, and in the role mentioned. If Aaron didn’t lie about that, surely he’s truthful about other things.
But I didn’t stop there. I called his offices in the pretence I’m a potential client and broke into a relieved sigh when the girl I spoke to told me Aaron was away indefinitely.
Indefinitely.
Not playing me.
But why?
Is he in the country still? Is that why he can’t contact me or play?
24
Aaron’s absence continues, along with his lack of communication. Each time I log into the game, I immediately check his online status, now showing as 21 days offline.
With each day passing, I resign myself to the fact my long-distance relationship can be added
to the list of reasons I don’t bother with guys. I take part in the raids, but also spend time levelling my secret new character, where I can be alone with no need to communicate. My real life crossed too far into game life.
One good result: I realise the game can never be a safe place to hide from; the world will always encroach.
I’m pulled further out of the game with my artwork, enjoying the creativity and people’s reactions. I stick with fantasy art, drawing mash-ups of characters I see in game, or pictures in my head from the fantasy books I read on the bus to work.
My ‘Sinestre and the tiger’ artwork takes shape, and my frustration with Aaron spills out as the image transforms into the Sorcerer standing over a weakened Paladin. The black background swirls with angry red demons which Sinestre summoned to help defeat her enemy. This time, the inhuman creatures are portrayed defeating the Paladin, who destroyed a part of me I should never’ve given him.
I barely knew the guy, and I fell in love. How insane is that? My voodoo style painting goes too far based on the actual time Aaron and I were in each other’s lives, but that doesn’t stop the depth of my hurt.
Some artwork on my art page attracts attention and people want to buy prints. This boost to my confidence is also a kick up the backside towards applying for formal training.
When I create art I lose myself, as immersed in the process as when I game, and definitely achieve more than a job fielding customers in the store.
With encouragement from Tyler and Erin, I agree to sell prints to eager buyers. My following grows quickly and I’m stunned by the response when I list some for sale. This means my new business venture involves visits to the local print shop to pick up the orders. I need to take a trip further into the city centre than I’d like, alone, but if I manage this, then I’m taking another step away from the game. Curtin University arranges an open day I intend to attend; the idea terrifies me—leaving behind the life I can drift through and steer away from serious commitments.
I can do this.
I need to do this.
Aaron’s taught me virtual life is no easier, and no way to avoid reality because they overlap.
End Game: A Gamer Romance Page 13