Him. Conlan. He was on, and he just sent me a message.
“How’s it going?”
Three simple words, and yet I found myself racking my brain trying to think of a way to respond to them. I desperately tried to think of something that would make me seem witty, clever, a sophisticated woman of the online gaming world, and yet my words failed me. I found myself simply responding honestly.
“Pretty fucking terrible actually. How about you?”
“Sorry to hear that,” he said. “Want to talk about it?”
The words started flowing from my fingers before I had time to think about it. This was a complete stranger, and yet something about his concern touched me. Maybe it was because I was vulnerable in the moment, but I found myself explaining everything. My class. How they’d reacted to me. Some of my insecurities.
All that poured out onto the screen. It was the first time I’d ever talked to anybody about any of this. It was the first time I’d gotten any of this off of my chest. Samantha was usually the only person I had in-depth conversations about these sorts of things, and that was typically talking about whatever guy we were dating that week. Well, whatever guy she was dating that week. I didn’t do a lot of dating what with my busy schedule of playing video games and going to class.
The cursor blinked at me from the end of the chat window. And there was a long pause. So long that I started to worry that maybe I’d said too much. Maybe I downloaded too much right at the get-go. I’d just met this guy after all. I didn’t really know him all that well. Or at all.
Great. I meet a somewhat nice guy, a guy who can turn a phrase with the best of them, and already I’d chased him away venting about all of my problems and insecurities. Good job Jessica. Great fucking job!
“I know how you feel,” he said.
I blinked. “You do?”
“I don’t know if you can tell, but I do a little bit of writing myself,” he said.
I smiled. He didn’t know if I could tell? As though it wasn’t obvious he was good at this sort of thing from the way he spun that scenario last night. From the way he put words to the screen so effortlessly.
“Oh no, I had no idea!”
I made sure to put in an eye roll emoticon so he would know I wasn’t being completely serious. Meaning and tone could be difficult to convey in text.
“I do a lot of writing actually,” he said. “A lot of it for my job, and I always worry that it’s never going to be good enough. Everyone tells me it’s great, but as I’m writing I always have this little voice in the back of my head telling me that everything is crap. That everyone’s going to hate it this time. That this is going to be the one where everybody realizes that I just got lucky with the other stuff.”
I blinked. “You write professionally? Like novels or something?”
“Probably nothing you’ve ever heard of,” he said. “Technical writing and that sort of stuff, but still. I have that gnawing doubt. Heck, for awhile now it’s been hard for me to write anything. I’ve been coasting for awhile. Trust me. I know exactly what you feel like, and I get paid to do this stuff!”
I smiled and felt warmth spreading through my body. Here was a guy who understood me. Here was a guy who knew exactly what I was going through! And the admission that he was a writer, even if it was just technical writing which was something of a four letter word in creative writing circles even though most people I knew who graduated went on to do it because they quickly discovered they couldn’t pay the rent with their literary fiction.
“So you’re saying that feeling never goes away?” I asked.
“Nope. Never does in my experience. All you have to do is learn to take that voice and squash it. Listen to it from time to time to make sure you’re not actually turning out crap, but I figure if most people around you tell you that you’re doing a good job then that’s good enough,” he said.
“What about bad reviews?”
And then I realized I was probably being ridiculous. Like he would get a bad critique when he was doing technical writing!
“Everyone’s a critic,” he said. “You just have to learn how to let that roll off of you. I can get nine people out of ten telling me what a wonderful job I’m doing at my work, and the still that number ten who had a problem is going to get more attention than the nine people who told me how great I was!”
I smiled and actually laughed. I was amazed at how easily he could put me at ease. I was amazed at how quickly all of my worries from class washed away. I was actually starting to feel kind of foolish for walking out of class like that, for getting so emotional. And yet at the same time I was glad I’d gotten so emotional because it meant I came home to Conlan. It meant I had this pep talk to cheer me up.
“So you write fantasy stuff?” he asked.
I blushed again. “Mostly. Lately I’ve just been writing stuff in Elassa because that’s where I spend most of my time, but it’s always been my favorite genre. The Elassa books have been my favorite ever since the first one came out!”
“Oh? You’ve been reading them since the beginning?”
“Of course. I’m always on the lookout for a new good book, and as far as I’m concerned Sean Taylor has been a literary genius since the first word he put to paper ten years ago. Now if only he’d get out the next one...”
“It’s always nice to find someone who’s liked the books almost as long as I have! Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person who knew about them back at the beginning,” he said. “Besides, I’m sure he has a good reason for making us wait!”
“I thought it was a revelation when I read the first book, so I really don’t care if he takes his time. I’m not like those rabid fanboys that seem to think he owes us something.”
My love for the books is probably why I spend so much of my time playing Tales of Elassa. Sometimes I wish I could be in that world! Other times I just wish I could craft something as amazing and original!”
“You never know,” he said. “Just look at that chick with those kinky sex books, and that started out as a fanfiction didn’t it?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, like something like that would happen to me!”
“So you’re a huge fan, does that mean you’re going to Elassa Con?”
I sighed. “How I’d love to go to Elassa Con! I’ve been to a few regional cons, even have a stupid costume I wear to them, but I’m afraid Elassa Con is more than a poor grad student like me can afford though.”
“Pity, I was thinking of going. We could meet up,” he said. “I’d love to see that costume. ;)”
“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll go someday if I get rich off of my writing,” I said.
“I’d like to read some of your stuff,” he said.
I pulled away from the keyboard. I blinked a couple of times. I stared at the chat window. At those words burned onto my flat panel. Sure I shared my stuff in the critiques every day, sure I shared my stuff with the people I role-played with online, but there was something about this that seemed different. I was suddenly self-conscious about sharing my work with this man. Maybe it was the way he wrote. Maybe it was knowing that he did this professionally. But for whatever reason, I was hesitant.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m sure it would be boring for you…”
“No! I’m definitely interested! If you’re half as good as what you write in game then I have a feeling I’m going to be pleasantly surprised!”
I blushed and had to stop. I had to count to ten. It was like this guy was pressing all the right buttons, and I didn’t even know his real name. I had no idea what he looked like. For all I knew it could be some fifteen-year-old kid who was home from school today. For all I knew he could be some old man. He could even be a she!
Catfishing was an ever present danger online, but something was telling me I should take a chance.
“Fine, what’s your email address?”
“[email protected]”
I arched an eyebrow at that. I was surprised he was ac
tually able to get that email address. It’s not like Conlan was a super famous character in the series or anything, but he was a driving force in the narrative for anybody who bothered to pay attention to that sort of thing. It was the kingdom he created that led to the catastrophe that created the world I was running around in right now. The world I loved reading about so much. The world that had taken the real world by storm over the past five years with its explosive popularity. And I figured a name like that would’ve been snapped up immediately. Only here he was. He had it.
Interesting. And it also made me respect him all the more. It was slightly cocky choosing that name, but at the same time it showed that he really knew his stuff. He really knew the story. A lot of people didn’t pay attention to it that deeply. They just enjoyed the action in the books or they enjoyed the boobs on the pay cable miniseries. No, that name told me this was a guy who really got the series. This was a guy who was definitely a fan.
And that made me both respect him more and want him more. It was ridiculous to fall for a guy over something silly like that, but there it was. I was an intellectual woman first and foremost, and he was definitely able to stimulate my brain in a way most guys had never been able to. That intrigued me. That turned me on if I was being perfectly honest.
“Fine, I’ll send you something I worked up for class,” I said.
“No, I want your novel,” he said.
I blinked. “How did you know about that?”
“You said you’re in a creative writing program and you just got in a fight about liking genre fiction. I know you have a novel you’ve been working on. I want to see it.”
Now this really was asking too much! He was absolutely right, but I’d never share that with anyone. I even turned the screen away when Samantha was in the room. Not that I’d actually worked on the thing in a while because I was so busy with the creative writing program and all the creative writing I’d been doing for the game. But still. Sharing something like that was so personal.
“Come on…” he said.
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll send you the first few chapters, but that’s it!”
“Glad to hear it.”
He was so cocky. So arrogant. So sure he’d get his way! I wondered what kind of man he was in the real world, outside of the videogame, that he had that calm and confident demeanor. That he just assumed everyone was going to do what he asked.
I alt tabbed out of the game and opened up my email client. I had my own Elassa mail account. It was a whole giant social network for fans of the series. I typed in his email and attached the file, and as I did I got a good look at his profile picture. Not everybody bothered with the picture, but he had one. And I found myself staring, transfixed.
The character creator for the game meant you could pretty much write your own ticket in terms of looks. Most people chose a character who was muscular or slim in all the right places. Basically the perfect figure and the ultimate in wish fulfillment. What I’m trying to say is you didn’t see a lot of chubby characters walking around Tales of Elassa unless it was somebody who was doing it to make a point for a particular brand of role-playing.
Only as I looked at the picture attached to his profile, I wondered if he realized I was going to be able to see that picture when he gave me his email, I realized that in this case at least, assuming this was actually him and this wasn’t an elaborate catfishing expedition, there wasn’t much difference between the man behind the computer and the handsome character in game.
He wore a huge pair of sunglasses that obscured most of his face, but there was no obscuring his strong jaw line. The picture was also taken at a slightly odd angle that covered up some of his face, but I could see shaggy Brown hair that looked unkempt but was so sexy. And the rest of him. Broad shoulders and what looked like a well muscled frame under a tight fitting T-shirt that left no doubt he spent time in the gym. He looked like he was maybe anywhere from five to ten years older than me and he looked absolutely delicious.
Not for the first time since I started interacting with this man I found myself staring at the screen while my brain short circuited. What the hell was going on here? Could that really be him? That couldn’t possibly be him! There was no way that a man who looked that good, a man this compelling and that nice, a man who seemed to know what I was thinking before I even thought it myself, could be that gorgeous!
And it instantly made me self-conscious as well. If I sent him an attachment through my account at Elassa.com then he’d see my profile picture. My mess of brown hair. A face that was definitely not anything to write home about. And I had a petite frame that definitely didn’t bear much resemblance to my buxom character in game.
Not to mention in my picture I was staring into the camera with a goofy expression that definitely wasn’t very flattering making the hand symbol of the Bendai sisterhood which figured largely in the books. The juxtaposition between that very serious hand signal and the weird look on my face wouldn’t be lost on him, but I looked absolutely ridiculous.
I couldn’t send him an email right now. I couldn’t send an email when he’d see that picture of me!
I alt tabbed back into the game fully intending to make an excuse.
“I’m waiting…”
There he was again with that infuriating casually insistent confidence. As though he expected me to send him my manuscript right now. And I found myself blushing, moving out of the game client again, and hitting send. It was as though I was under some sort of spell. It was as though he was able to get me to do whatever he wanted. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until I’d sent it, and immediately my hand went from my mouse up to my mouth. I stared in wide-eyed shock.
Damn it!
I moved back to the game. I waited to see what the damage was.
“Got it.” he said.
There was a pause. A pause that stretched into an eternity. A pause where I was sure he was looking at my picture, where he was sizing me up, where he was realizing that the sexy seductive elf priestess was nothing like the girl in my profile picture. He was probably looking me up and down and thinking how ridiculous he’d been to ever pay any attention to me. I’m sure he’d come back and say that he didn’t have time to read my manuscript. I’m sure the only reason he was interested in the first place was because I was a chick in a videogame and he was trying to butter me up or something. It had happened before.
“My my,” he said, adding a smiley face to the end. “You are a cutie my lady elf.”
Damn it. This guy kept blowing my expectations away! I blushed again. I blushed! And I felt a tingle at the tips of my fingers that I was pretty sure was from getting turned on and not an impending stroke as I started typing.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” I said with a wink emoticon.
Was I really doing this? Was I really flirting with a guy over the Internet on the basis of a picture? This was ridiculous! I hadn’t done this thing in at least five or six years. Not since I was a teenager using the Internet for the first time. Not since I’d first got involved in non-Elassa role-playing communities that were best forgotten all these years later.
And yet here I was, very much feeling like the giddy schoolgirl I’d been back then talking to a cute guy. Only now I had actual proof that he was a cute guy. At least I hoped he was a cute guy. I wasn’t completely naïve. I knew there was still a good eighty percent chance that picture was bullshit, but a girl could dream right?
“That’s all?”
I blinked. Was he expecting more? Was he really that cocky? Did he really need me to validate his looks? I have to admit that it took some of the shine off of the moment.
“Was there supposed to be more?”
“No, nothing…”
He seemed surprised. He seemed to be avoiding telling me something. And yet I’d just met him. I was still so surprised that he looked like that, I was still so surprised that he was the complete package, that I decided I wasn’t going to dig any deeper. Not yet. If he wante
d to have his little mystery then let him have his little mystery. It was enough that we had what we had for now.
“Think I’m going to log off and have a read of your story,” he said. “Talk to you later?”
“Sure. Looking forward to it!”
“Me too.” And he winked at me.
It was amazing how punctuation could make me feel so amazing. It was really just a semicolon and a closed parenthesis, and yet that simple bit of punctuation was getting me worked up in a way that I hadn’t been in quite some time. Since the last guy I dated seriously, which had been a while ago since I didn’t really have time for dating what with my busy schedule. At least what with what I told myself was of my busy schedule, though it would probably look rather pathetic to anyone who actually had a busy schedule or real responsibility instead of a full plate of video game playing every night.
The chat window indicated he’d gone off-line. I paused for a moment, and then I added him to my watch list. He must’ve already done the same to me if he knew when I was online. That sent another thrill running through me. A man that gorgeous, a man who could write like that, a man who could make me feel this way with just a few words on the screen, and he’d obviously been interested enough to talk to me first!
It was weird, but I was starting to feel very much like that giddy schoolgirl even when I wasn’t talking to him. Just the thought of him was enough to set me off. It was an odd feeling, but not unpleasant. I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but I knew that I liked it.
I closed out the game. Without him on there really was nobody for me to talk to at this time of day. Most of my friends didn’t start coming online until after the work day was over. As the game closed a window popped up advertising Elassa Con which was coming up very soon. I sighed as I looked at the pictures streaming past. It looked like everybody was having a hell of a time.
I’d been to a couple of local conventions, I even had a costume I put together that was slightly scandalous since it took a fashion cue from some of the more bikini oriented outfits that the sorceresses could wear in game, but I’d never been to the big convention. The one put on by a combination of all the different parts that made up the Elassa media empire.
Boy Meets Geek Page 4