Game Night

As Blake entered Jake's apartment, he was met with a small group of unfamiliar faces. They were all around his age, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Their happy expressions in sharp contrast to his uneasy demeanor. Jake noticed him entering and waved, a smile on his face. "Blake, you're here!" he said, striding over to greet him. "Come on in, make yourself comfortable." "You seem happier than ever." Blake responds with a smile. Jake clapped him on the back, his grin widening. "Hey man, glad you could make it," he said. "Guys, this is Blake. He's a friend of mine."

The other people looked over at him curiously, their gazes scrutinizing. "What's good people?" Blake greets everyone. Jake's friends nodded and murmured their greetings. "Hey there," one of them said, a friendly enough smile playing on his lips. "Heard you and Jake go way back?" Blake nodded and said, "You heard right, I've known him longer than I can remember." The other people seemed to pay a bit more attention after hearing that, their curiosity piqued. "That long, huh?" one of them asked, an eyebrow raising in interest.

Blake's consciousness began speaking, "Can you really handle all this attention being on you?" The voice in his head was like a nagging echo, a constant reminder of his own insecurities. Blake knew that this was just a small group of people, but the idea of interacting with them all intimidated him. However, he tried to push the voice aside, not wanting to spiral into anxiety. "Yeah, that long." Blake replied and continued with a question. "So, what have you guys been up to tonight?" Jake's friends seemed more open now, the initial ice broken. "Oh, you know, just the usual," one of them said, waving a hand nonchalantly. "Working, partying, the whole adulting thing." "Is it fun as they say? I didn't get to experience any of that." The comment piqued their interest even further. "Wait a second," one of them, a guy named Tom, piped up. "You haven't experienced any of that? Not even clubbing or something?"

Blake froze for a few seconds. Contemplating whether he should answer truthfully or not. The voice in his head was relentless, egging him on. "Go on, tell them the truth. They want to know just how messed up you are." Blake felt a strange mix of the urge to be honest and the fear of looking weak. "No, I haven't," he admitted. "I've never been to a club, or uh, anything social like that." The confession caught Jake's friends off guard. Their expressions turned quizzical, their interest piqued even further. Tom in particular leaned forward, curiosity written all over his face. "Really?" he said, surprise evident in his voice. "Not even in college?" Blake looked at him and responded with a sigh, "I never went to college." The revelation seemed to throw them off even more. Tom's eyebrows shot up, surprise clearly written on his face. "Why not?" he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop himself. Blake looked at Jake to see his reaction. Blake wanted to see some type of approval or rejection about if he should open up related to his mental problems or not. Jake gave him a small, reassuring nod. The gesture was subtle but reassuring, giving him permission to continue without feeling judged.

"Well, to put it in a simple way. I lost my mind after my family died in a car crash. They told me I am bipolar and also schizophrenic. There are probably more labels to label me but uh I can't remember all of it." Jake and his friends stared at him, their expressions a mix of shock and surprise. They clearly weren't expecting to hear anything that intense, and it showed on their faces. The room fell into a temporary silence. To break the silence, Blake spoke to assure them. "I took my meds before I came here so let's party you guys. Come on." The room remained quiet for a few moments, their shock clearly lingering. However, as Blake finished, Tom nodded, trying to dispel the heavy mood. "Sure," he said, a tinge of hesitation still in his voice. "Let's just… play some games. Everyone good with that?" A woman that was sitting a little far from the group of people spoke up. "Guess we aren't so different from each other."

The woman's unexpected comment drew everyone's attention to her. Her voice was soft yet held a hint of understanding, her expression kind and warm. Jake's friends, including Jake himself, seemed surprised by her words. Tom, always the outspoken one, was the first to respond. "What do you mean?" he asked, curiosity lacing his tone. This woman piqued Blake's interest somehow. He turned his gaze towards her, intrigued by her quiet confidence. Her demeanor, so seemingly unbothered by the atmosphere around them, was something he found strangely compelling. Jake, sensing the attention shift towards this woman, interjected with a smile. "Oh right, you guys haven't met her yet, right?" He turned towards the woman, who was now the center of attention. "Everyone, this is Mel." Despite the casual setting, it was hard not to notice her. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves, framing her face in a way that was both effortless and beautiful. She looked at ease, a small smile playing on her lips, her hazel eyes taking in the scene around her. There was something about her that seemed almost ethereal. Her features were delicate, her soft skin almost glowing in the warm light. She wore a baggy sweatshirt over a pair of jeans, the ensemble giving her a comfortable yet chic look. Despite her casual clothing, there was something undeniably elegant about her. Blake's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary. Her presence was captivating, and he found himself drawn to her. He tried to shake off the feeling, telling himself he was just intrigued, nothing more. 

He decided to keep it together and ask, "You mean that you have the same type of issues as me?" As Blake's question hung in the air, Mel nodded slightly. "Sort of," she said, her eyes still fixed on him. "I'm bipolar. Don't have all those fancy schizophrenic symptoms." "Actually, glad you don't have them. It's not good to have your hands full and then there are more." Mel chuckled softly. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Jake, catching the exchange, interjected light-heartedly, "Okay, less serious talk please. We're here to play games, not discuss our issues, okay?" "Right. My bad." Blake apologized but his eyes still lingered on Mel for longer than needed. Mel didn't seem to mind the attention. Instead, she smiled, seemingly amused. Blake's focus on her was a stark contrast to the others who were now discussing which game to play first. As Blake took a seat next to her, Mel looked over and offered him a small smile. The others were engrossed in deciding on a game, their discussion a background noise. The silence between Blake and Mel was comfortable, the tension from earlier seemingly gone. For the first time in a while, Blake's inner voice was strangely quiet. The presence of Mel next to him seemed to muffle the usual intrusive thoughts, her calm energy filling the space between them.

"You seem like you are really good at games. Am I right?" Blake asked innocently. Mel looked at him, surprised by the unexpected comment. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm a pro, but I do enjoy playing," she responded modestly. "Why, are you into gaming too?" "I like turn based games. whether it's a video game or a board game." Blake responded. "Oh, same here," Mel said, nodding appreciatively. "There's just something so satisfying about being able to plan out your moves and then watch it unfold. It's strategic without being rushed." "Right?" he agreed, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. "It's not just about reaction time or who can button smash the fastest. Turn based games require actual thinking and strategy." Mel nodded, her eyes reflecting mutual excitement. "Exactly! And there's something about turn-based games that makes them more accessible too. You don't need to have lightning reflexes. You just have to be clever." Blake looked over at others stil trying to decide on a game and said, "I am pretty sure they wouldnt select that type of game right now." "Yeah, probably not," Mel said, looking over at the others who were still debating passionately about which game to play. "Looks like they're stuck between the usual racing games and first-person shooters." Jake, noticing the two of them deep in conversation, approached and jokingly said, "What are you two conspiring over here?"

"Just talking about the superiority of turn-based games," Mel said, a hint of mock-seriousness in her voice. "You know, things that actually require brain cells." "Watch out Mel, he is about to say that fps games takes a lot of skill." Blake laughed afterwards. Jake raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh, is that a challenge? You think turn-based games are for the enlightened and first-person shooters are beneath you?" Mel chuckled, enjoying the playful banter. "Well, it takes a certain special talent to master the art of hiding behind cover and respawning constantly," she teased. Jake feigned a look of offense but couldn't contain a smile. "Hey now, there's a lot more to it than that. Hand-eye coordination, lightning reflexes. Things you turn-based players wouldn't understand." "Oh, right. Because nothing says skill like rapid fire reaction time," Mel shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Before things got out of hand, Blake laughed awkwardly and cut the conversation short by saying, "Come on guys, it doesn't matter. I suck at both anyways!" Jake shook his head, amused by Blake's self-deprecating comment. "Well that settles it then. We can all suck equally at every game." Mel laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sounds like a plan. We'll all be terrible together. It'll be a party of sucking!"