entry #12 | ¢σηηє¢т

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connect

01101101

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'A friend request?' The (h/c)-haired girl frowned. 'Who's this?' The only friend she had in the game was Reese, and he her. She clicked on the notification curiously. The username wasn't one she recognized, and she remembered all the so-called "noobs" she and Reese had temporarily teamed up with.

'Who is tracer404?' She was sure she'd never met this person before. 'Eh, maybe they like my username. It makes me hungry too. But still, it's kinda weird. I don't know this person.'

She clicked the deny button. A few seconds later, the same notification popped onto her screen. 'Okay, this is really weird,' (Y/n) furrowed her brow. 'Or maybe I'm thinking too much about it. I don't know much about gaming communities, but this person probably just wants a strong player to carry them.'

'You know what? Why not.'

She clicked the accept button and leaned back into her chair. 'Okay, time to sleep—'

A ping sound drew her attention as someone sent her a message in the game.

~ ❀ ~

tracer404: Hello! Thank you for accepting my friend request.

~ ❀ ~

'Woah, a message already?' Her eyes widened. 'I'll just reply, I guess.' She dragged her chair closer to her desk and began typing.

~ ❀ ~

vanillabits3: no problem

tracer404: Sorry if I bother you or anything. I'm new to this game, so I thought it would be a good idea to add a more experienced player. Your name popped up on my suggested friends list.

tracer404: You're the only one who replied, haha.

vanillabits3: lol it's fine

vanillabits3: but you're sure you're fine with me? i also started today

tracer404: No way, really? You're already level 75!

vanillabits3: um that's only because i was farming for a few hours with my friend

tracer404: Oh, that's cool! What's your combat power now?

vanillabits3: ~850,000 cp

tracer404: That's more zeroes than my bank account and cp :((

vanillabits3: im sure you'll reach it in no time

vanillabits3: do you want to join my friend and i the next time we play?

tracer404: Can I really? I don't want to bother you or anything.

vanillabits3: it's fine, i don't think he'd mind

tracer404: Oh, okay! Thank you so much!

vanillabits3: no problem. i have to go now. see you

tracer404: Bye, vanilla!

AFTER:SCHOOL

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fяιdαу

School was a breeze. Actually, it was more like a maelstrom of countless exams and infuriating deadlines that swept into her life without warning and refused to leave no matter what she said.

But despite all that, it was a breeze. At least it was, until high school happened.

Then came college. But we don't talk about that.

Her class periods had gone smoothly, with her and her friends fooling around as usual. In math and psychics, her tutor barely even glanced at her, let alone acknowledge her presence. Not that she minded; his type wasn't the kind she'd find herself getting along with any time soon. So she's just saving herself trouble later on.

History was spent brainstorming topics to work on. Leon mostly left the (h/c)-haired girl and Reese to do their own thing, offering at most a few grunts or nods when asked for his approval. They decided on researching the Holodomor because making a project around the Holocaust was overrated.

Didn't they get such a cheerful and helpful group member? If he didn't work, (Y/n) promised herself she would rather die than write his name on their project.

P.E. took a rather pleasant turn. Her duo with Wei Wei in volleyball now had a new addition of Jaehyun. The black-haired girl reacted much worse than Nova did. She fainted, startling both the blond and the (h/c)-haired girl. She was promptly sent by Mr. Johnson to the nurse.

And then there was English. Don't we all love English? She loved it so much more when a certain snowman decided it was a great idea to spend the time trying to elicit a response from her. His whispers and nudges were really beginning to get on her nerves. If there's ever a news report of a student at Fortuna Institute dying in their dorm on Saturday, you know who it was.

At least art was pleasant. Jaehyun turned out to be pretty different than what the rumors made him out to be. Instead of just being a picturesque, delicate prodigy, he was so much more than that. (Y/n) found him to be more socially awkward in an endearing way, as well as considerate and self-conscious.

All he wanted, she realized, was not wealth or a title in the...something four. He just wanted a friend.

'Oh god, he's like my little brother,' (Y/n) mused as she doodled in the margins of her notebook. 'I'm going to ask dad if I can adopt him. Just kidding.'

She was at home now and doing her favorite activity ever; homework. Note the sarcasm.

Instead of answering the math questions like the good student she wasn't, countless drawings of little stick figures with nightcaps danced about a pencil-sketched world of gray stars and pillows. A silver moon hung around them, clad in a blanket and Christmas hat. Tiny cats hissed and scratched at the indecipherable inked letters on the page before a Cerberus shat on them.

'Crap, this is my homework!' And then began the genocide of the 2D pencil creatures and their little world. She tossed her eraser to the side and reluctantly began working on the questions.

'Who invented calculus?' (Y/n) scowled as she fumbled in her bag for her calculator. 'Who invented trigonometry? Mrs. Richards lied; she said we didn't need it to understand calculus concepts. LIES! IT'S ALL LIES!'

She had a bad habit of forgetting everything she's learned right after she took the test for it. 'Goodbye, last year's trigonometry unit. Hello, calculus.'

"I should take this up to Mr. Grayson," she murmured out loud. "Fortuna students...are good Christian children. And good Christian children...do not learn Satan's favorite subject. It even has...sin in it." She was so going to start a petition.

Actually, that was too much work.

'I'm a good kid, I'm a good kid,' she repeated in her head. 'Good kids do not plot the bombing of their school, even if they hate calculus. Even if I'll never use this again in my life—OH, GOSH FRICKING CRAP!'

'My calculator is on radians!'

She nearly threw her homework out the window. 'I'm just going to yeet this thing outta here. No one has to know.'

In her ideal world, she had the guts to flip her table and all its contents out her apartment window. But this was the real world, and the real world was not kind. It was a world where she remained a slave to the chains of society, forced to toil in the prison for kids called school.

No amount of five-star lunch or new, state-of-the-art technology and equipment could convince her otherwise.

Maybe.

Her phone rang beside her, its musical call breaking her out of her concentration. She picked it up and unlocked the screen. It was Jaehyun, texting about their project in the group chat. He wanted to know where should the mural be.

Her first answer was on the side of the school building. But the smarter part of her quickly deleted the message and revised. 'Let's ask Ms. Florence first,' she typed. 'It's more convenient if we can paint it on school grounds.'

'Okay,' he texted back a few seconds later. 'I'll send her an email.'

She nearly wanted to cry. 'He's such a good kid,' (Y/n) sniffed. 'Compared to my other two partners, namely the snowman and zebra, he's so responsible. Thank you, God, for giving me good luck for once!'

The (h/c)-haired girl threw her rose-gold phone to the side and returned her attention to his homework and textbook. I finished 30 questions. 10 more to go! She flipped to the appropriate page and ran her finger down it until she found the remaining list of questions. 'Eww, graphs.'

Graphs were the pinnacle of human evolution. It meant they finally understood how to put their cave art and chicken scratches together in a way that made sense. But it was also the reason why much of the world's younger population find themselves inflicted with an incurable, terminal disease.

Scholaitis.

Symptoms include but are not limited to shortness of breath, poor eyesight, neck pains, back pains, hand cramps, joint paint, difficulty of getting out of bed, paralysis of the brain and muscles, procrastination, drowsiness, syncope, and brain attack.

There has been a drug invented to help slow down this disease. It's called caffeine.

'But I mean,' (Y/n) shuddered. 'Ew, coffee. Milk tea is so much better.'

'Yep, I give up.' Her mechanical pencil rolled out of her hands and dropped off her table. She made no move to pick it up. 'Maybe if I pray hard enough my homework will finish itself. It's worth a try.' She placed her hands together and closed her eyes. 'Oh god of homework, please do mine for me.'

She opened her eyes. 'Yo, it actually worked!'

But the answers were in radians.

Curse her calculator.

'Time to procrastinate.' (Y/n) shoved her papers and folders to the side and turned on her laptop. 'Darn you Reese, you got me hooked to the game.' She clicked on the game and waited for it to open. Compared to when it first downloaded, it loaded much faster today. Her character appeared in the same spot she'd left off, conveniently in the town square in front of the merchant.

'Now to waste all my gems and coins because that's a smart thing to do.' She was definitely one of those players who just had to buy something, even if it was useless. Be it entirely useless but aesthetically pleasing outfits or weird looking pets that caught her eye, she'd splurge all her in-game resources on them in a heartbeat.

Not a good habit, but a self-satisfying one.

She bought a bunch of hopefully useful gear and junk, including a pack of fireworks she immediately began blasting into the sky. Why? Because it looked interesting.

At least it started a whole chain of fireworks from the surrounding players. It became an early April 23 there.

She heard the game's notification bell sound through her earbuds. 'You have (1) new message,' the popup said. She clicked on it. Sure enough, it was from the player she'd met last night.

~ ❀ ~

tracer404: Hello! How are you doing today?

vanillabits3: im doing great, how about you?

tracer404: I'm fine too, thanks for asking^^

tracer404: Is it too much of a bother to ask you for some help?

vanillabits3: ask away

tracer404: Thank you! I'm trying to clear my main quest, but the next boss is too hard for me to do alone. Can you help me?

vanillabits3: sure. send me an invite

~ ❀ ~

'Player tracer404 has sent you a party invite. Accept?' She clicked accept, and his—or her—username popped up in the left-hand side of her screen. She clicked the follow button, and her character immediately began teleporting to where the other player was.

It was a female character, surprisingly. Tracer404 was a mage class and almost half her level, and with a combat power (cp) miles below hers. She was standing in front of an NPC (non-player character) awaiting the (h/c)-haired girl.

Moments later, another popup appeared, asking if she'd accept entering the said dungeon. She did, and the two characters were sent inside. For a low leveled new player, tracer404 was rather good at dodging. Her attack was low, meaning (Y/n) had to carry her, but she didn't die either.

They cleared it within seconds.

~ ❀ ~

tracer404: Thanks again! Wow, you're really strong.

vanillabits3: if im strong my friend is godly

vanillabits3: and all the pros are aliens

tracer404: Haha really? What's their cp?

vanillabits3: i forgot. higher than mine, that's for sure

tracer404: I feel so weak...

vanillabits3: farm more and you'll get better gear

tracer404: I'm too weak to farm :'(

vanillabits3: im only this strong because he gave me some gear at the start

vanillabits3: speak of the devil and he shall appear. he's on right now

tracer404: Can I join you guys?

vanillabits3: ok

'You have created a shared chat'

'You have added chocobits3 and tracer404'

vanillabits3: choco choco choco

chocobits3: vanilla vanilla vanilla

vanillabits3: did you do your math homework

vanillabits3: i need help

chocobits3: bro you're the one with the higher math grade

vanillabits3: you have a higher exam grade

chocobits3: that's because you draw on your scantrons .-.

chocobits3: kidding ill send you mind later

vanillabits3: sankyu chococococo

tracer404: Hello!

vanillabits3: this is tracer, who i met yesterday when you left

vanillabits3: meet choco, my acquaintance

chocobits3: only acquaintance?!

vanillabits3: ok ill send you an invite

chocobits3: ignoring me huh T-T

vanillabits3: hush child carry us

chocobits3: no you too fat

vanillabits3: no you

chocobits3: yea you

vanillabits3: ...

tracer404: Where are we farming?

vanillabits3: oh yea you know the bosses in the pvp sector that showed up?

tracer404: Yes?

vanillabits3: we're going there first and then the dungeons

chocobits3: we are?

vanillabits3: we are now

~ ❀ ~

When they finished, it was well past midnight. The night swathed her apartment complex in a black and silver blanket, sunlight melting off the city to be replaced by thousands of tiny star points of artificial multicolored lights. The glow of the computer illuminated her face as she'd forgotten to turn her lights on. Moonlight spilled in through the window to paint her pale floor and sheets white.

'I'm going off now,' she told Reese and their other party member, tracer404, in the chatbox. 'I still have that project to do tomorrow.'

'Good night!' The redhead texted back. 'Don't forget ours on Sunday!'

'Thanks for helping me,' tracer404 wrote. 'Good night, vanilla.'

She logged off and shut down her laptop, closing it and laying it to rest on her desk. (Y/n) groaned and stretched her stiff arms over her head and her legs out in front of her. Her joints cracked into place from the hours spent unused. She winced at the popping sounds they made and got out of the chair.

'Time for bed,' she yawned sleepily, making her way through her darkened home to the bathroom. 'Is dad home?' She peeked into his room to make sure; as expected, it was empty. 'Oh well.'

The (h/c)-haired girl took a quick shower and brushed her teeth, changing out of her oversized hoodie and into her pajamas. Her eyes were beginning to hurt after the long hours she'd spent in front of the screen, and with her body being unused to staying up this long.

'Curse that tomato alien for convincing me to do this with me,' she thought bitterly. 'And curse my easily-swayed mind.' Gaming meant not having to move, something she was good at and enjoyed. So when the redhead had pleaded for her to play with him, she didn't think much of it. 'No wonder there are all those articles out there about the dangers of gaming. But I also read one that same gaming improves IQ, reflexes, and cognition.'

'Yeah, the latter sounds more scientific.'

(Y/n) slipped beneath her covers and silenced her phone for ten hours, placing the device safely on her nightstand. The good thing about the weekends was that she could stay up however late the night before and it wouldn't matter since she didn't have school. And her plans being at noon allowed her to sleep in some more.

She planned on sleeping well past morning, and no one could convince her otherwise.

WHITE:RESIDENCE

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ѕαtυяdαу

Waking up to the sound of the sound of her phone ringing uncontrollably was almost as pleasant as her alarm clock. Keyword almost.

Note the sarcasm.

(Y/n) forced her eyes open and rolled over, slamming her hand on the source of the noise, only to remember it wasn't an alarm clock.

Time for try two.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes sleepily. She picked up her phone and furrowed her brow. 'Who the heck is messaging me this early?' She unlocked her phone. It read 10:50 am. Still early.

There were ten unread messages in her inbox, one from an unknown number and another from someone named "popsicleface."

Oh right. She named blueberry boy that.

Before she clicked on them, she decided to freshen up, because she was feeling like a petty little...bean that morning. And because why not. The (h/c)-haired girl threw her phone onto her pillows and slipped her feet into her slippers, padding down the hallway to the bathroom.

'I bet I could get in the Guinness Book of Records for the fastest person to get ready,' (Y/n) grinned as she pulled a light pink sweatshirt with the words "I don't care" in English and Japanese on it over her head. 'Ah, I'm supposed to meet the snowman at his dorm for our project. How am I supposed to do that if he didn't tell me his address?'

'Then that means the unknown number is probably him,' she realized as two slices of toast popped out of the toaster. 'Darn, I was hoping he'd forget. But nooo, he just had to do that to me on a Saturday. A SATURDAY, for god's sake. I should've chosen a different school.'

She reached into the cereal box and threw a handful of Cinnamon Toast Crunches into her mouth, and then immediately winced at the sweetness. She swiped the toast from the toaster and placed them on a clean plate. Opening the refrigerator door, (Y/n) reached around blindly until her hand snagged on the handle of the maple syrup jar. She took it out and carefully drizzled a small amount evenly over the golden-brown bread.

She took the plate back to her room where her phone was no doubt buzzing. And it was with five more messages from the unknown number. If it was Kieran, (Y/n) would whack him good.

But if it turned out to be a stalker or serial killer...

'Nah,' the (e/c)-eyed girl snorted. 'Who'd stalk me? I mean, it's not like I do anything interesting unless they'd like to know how I spend my day. Sleeping, of course.' She picked up the phone and sat on her bed, resting the plate of toast in her lap. (Y/n) opened the device while simultaneously tearing her toast apart with her teeth.

'Crap, crumbs are still a thing.'

~ ❀ ~

10:00 am

popsicleface: I hope you're aware of our appointment this afternoon. Please be on time. I am quite busy over the weekends.

popsicleface: Do reply so I can confirm you've remembered.

10:30 am

popsicleface: Hello? Ms. White?

10:59 am

me: whoops sorry, i was sleeping

me: i didn't forget

popsicleface: Good. 3:00 sharp. I do not tolerate any tardiness, be it by five minutes or five hours.

me: how about five seconds?

popsicleface has logged off

me: wow r00d

~ ❀ ~

She clicked on the messages from the unknown number.

~ ❀ ~

10:30 am

+05385-45292: rise and shine, koneko chan!

+05385-45292: hope you didn't forget our date today ;) wear something nice, alright?

+05385-45292: no seriously please don't come in your uniform

10:40 am

+05385-45292: im still trying to understand how it's taking you so long to respond

+05385-45292: did you give me the wrong number?

+05385-45292: or did you lose your phone?

+05385-45292: koneko chan?

10:52 am

+05385-45292: i cannot believe this

+05385-45292: 20 minutes, and you've yet to respond

+05385-45292: i might've asked you this before, but are you good?

+05385-45292: like in the head?

+05385-45292: i know some really good psychiatrists out there-

me: nah bro you're the one that's insane

me: also its 22 minutes. get it right

+05385-45292: well at least you're alive

me: i was sleeping you fool

+05385-45292: y-you ignored me to sleep?

me: yeah. got a problem with that?

+05385-45292: i-

+05385-45292: nevermind i almost forgot you're not sane

me: no you

+05385-45292: anyway, my dorm's in a different building

+05385-45292: you know the one behind the school?

me: that big one?

+05385-45292: no no i meant the building

me: ...i did too

+05385-45292: what

me: what

+05385-45292: i mean yeah, that's definitely what i was talking about

+05385-45292: that's where i live

me: what-

me: who-

me: holy

+05385-45292: yeah, i know im holy, thanks. you didn't have to tell me

me: u rich snowman i can't even-

+05385-45292: oh, you got me wrong. not the whole building's mine

me: whew ok

+05385-45292: just one floor

me: what the-

me: THERE ARE ONLY FIVE FLOORS!

+05385-45292: duh. three other people live in it with me

me: i can't even anymore

me: what's your room number?

+05385-45292: impatient to get in my room, are we?

me: i mean the living room or whatever you call it is fine too

+05385-45292: oh my

me: what?

+05385-45292: you're bolder than i thought, koneko chan

+05385-45292: can't say i don't like it

me: what?

me: oh

me: bro no. just no

+05385-45292: couldn't help myself ;)

me: no

me: g-goodbye

+05385-45292: じゃあね

~ ❀ ~

Kieran was definitely someone she wouldn't be forgetting, but for more negative reasons than positive. For one, he was a flirt. You do not understand how much her sleep has suffered in class ever since Mr. Howards placed her next to the white-haired male. In the beginning, he almost never bothered to talk to her, and divulged himself in the girls that surrounded him. But all thanks to that one accursed project, he began annoying the hell out of her. In a literal sense.

And second, he was a pervert. She's gathered that much recently with his speech and text. (Y/n) was fairly confident the activities unsuitable for innocent minds was all he thought about. She couldn't be paid—even in sleeping time and pillows—to ever enter his head.

Lastly, he was unreadable. Even if the (h/c)-haired girl flipped him the bird (which she never did, by the way. She probably should), all the white-haired male would do is continue smiling. His smile, although seductive to some and kind to others, was nothing less than conniving and arrogant in her eyes.

(Y/n) liked to make friends, but she didn't like dealing with people. Especially people named Kieran...whatever his last name was.

She only befriended aliens. Screw humanity.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been a random decision made just because, but it drove her into her panic and her eyes widened. 'Crap, it's already 11:10! I need to leave now or I won't be able to make it to school in time!'

(Y/n) shoved her pencil case and her copy of Macbeth along with other art supplies into a spare backpack and slung it onto her shoulders. She stuffed the last bit of toast in her mouth and ran towards the kitchen, washing it at the speed of light.

'Wait, why am I rushing?' She slowed down. 'It's not like today's a school day or anything, and popsicle-face's meeting is at three. I'll just take my time...'

Her movements were sluggish as she pulled on her socks and slipped her feet into a pair of converses. Her outfit was entirely casual and not school appropriate, at least for Fortuna Insititute.

Clad in a light pink hoodie and a pair of denim jeans, the 5'4 female placed her hands and puffed out her chest, trying to look intimidating as she glared into a tall mirror leaning by the door. She wasn't going to scare anyone, that's for sure.

'I look like a marshmallow,' (Y/n) observed. 'A cotton-candy flavored one. Does that exist? Wait, that doesn't make sense. Does it? Wait, what? What am I thinking about? Whaaaat?' She decided to stop thinking before she ran out of energy to drag herself home later.

Who thinks anyway this time and age? So extra. Just do it, people.

Now with her mind completely blank (which tells you a lot about her character), the (h/c)-haired girl used both hands to pull open her unnecessarily heavy door and stepped out into the unknown.

Which happened to be the tail of her neighbor's pet dog.