i, the unknown

the sun hangs high above alighting everything it touches. it shines bright despite its burdens.

still it performs, day after day, feeling warm against your palm, outreached for its presence.

not the kind of heat that scorches your skin in the span of seconds, no, the soft kind. the kind that brings you comfort - it makes everything feel real.

you don’t know how to feel about that.

everyone at one point in their lives had wished to be someplace else. you were one of them. but the appeal was that being someplace else came with a new identity, a new you: a new soul, a new body, a new life, something , anything different than the current, something more appealing in whatever way.

so despite having a new reality, you’re still dissatisfied. you’re still you.

the birds chirp, the wind blows, the leaves rustle. a new day, the same you.

you envy the sun. you envy everyone else for not being you.

you longed for a life in which the reason behind your tear-streaked face would be due to a beautiful tragedy, a noble sacrifice, or maybe both; instead you cry over nothing, you cry about the emptiness in your life, the fatigue of waiting for something you don’t know, where putting yourself in a different role feels less of a burden than the reality you carry: a poet, a knight, a monarch, a lover.

the sun hangs high, time moves forward, and so you must continue under its gaze.

endless repetition, practiced smiles and feign politeness - just enough to keep you out of trouble. you weren’t really the best at connecting with people, so you've mastered the art of faking. rehearsing smiles and radiating artificial warmth in the mirror.

for you weren’t the sun, you were a flickering flame at best.

and thus, any way the wind blows you’ll trail along as smoke carried elsewhere.

transformed, but still carrying the smell of the burn.

the badge hangs on your neck as you sit at your desk going through schematics and blueprints like a machine, making sure that everything is in its right place before starting the trials. you don’t ask questions, just do your job until you’re legally allowed to leave as per contract, so no matter how weird or borderline illegal a project that gets commissioned to the company you work at is, you know to keep your mouth shut - you don’t have the privilege in believing that you would awake the next day after inquiring more than allowed.

you were good at what you did. well, good enough to sustain the lifestyle you were living initially, your client list short but a few…influential. maybe you could have worked harder, built better relationships, networked a bit more, reached out of your comfort zone, climbed the ranks - but you didn’t really see the appeal of challenging yourself. your capabilities didn’t bring you any pride or joy, so you worked just enough to keep your head well above water. notably not much assimilation was required, just some reverse engineering to understand the difference in mechanics, and looking at old repositories and you were already well-adjusted.

just as your pencil writes down its last measurement, your phone vibrates in your pocket. and that was your cue to pack up and leave.

there was something familiar about you. she can’t really tell if she should be disturbed by the empty look in your eyes as she felt you dissect her open like a child with a prettily wrapped gift on the brink of christmas morning with just your gaze alone, as if you knew every thought she’d shove deep into the crevices of her mind and the building blocks of her making, but strangely accompanied by the comfort of being seen for more than just what she could offer on the surface; and maci knows that having that dilemma alone is already too dangerous.

she had came back yesterday to news of a new tenant for an unoccupied apartment she never knew existed in the first place, same floor, just a couple doors down. she felt like she’d remember the only apartment with a grey door like yours, but maybe during the hectic schedules and busy errands it had slipped her mind. she thought she could get to know you, offering to help with moving in and striking up conversation, maybe even be friends (which she begrudgingly admits hadn’t played out as she had hoped).

she stares at your back from the window as she relayed everything to zayne, who had made himself comfortable on her couch after coming over for an impromptu checkup, just to make sure everything was alright following the completion of her mission, as she waved her hands around animatedly to emphasise her point.

“you don’t get it, it was like- like they saw directly into my soul.”

“well, you’re not exactly hard to read.” he added, promptly dodging a pillow directed at him.

he sighed and stood up, making his way next to her looking at you through the glass like an unidentified specimen, his brows pinched. “maybe it’s best to keep distance, second-hand smoke could potentially make your heart condition worse,” he notes just as you killed the flame under the force of your shoe, turning around to head back through the building entrance.

their eyes trail after you.

suddenly, you paused as if contemplating something, before lifting your head and staring directly at them as if you could sense their presence from all the way down there. a beat goes by, a hitched breath, a chill climbing down the spine and then casually you retreat out of their sight.

zayne now understood what she meant.

the next time you run into mc was when you had just completed a grocery store run, looking forward to sitting on the floor eating whatever was discounted in the ready-made section while staring at any corner of the room. she shifted awkwardly, but curiously, like a friendly cat unknowing if its presence would be welcomed, until she finally walked towards you with a million-dollar smile that still carried the ghost of the unsure. this time, you let her approach you, one foot just bypassing the threshold of your doorway.

she calls for you as she nears, rolling on the ball of her feet back and forth as she asks about how well you’ve settled in, and extended an offer of helping if need be. her eyes darted down to the badge still laid atop your work clothes.

“oh wow! you’re part of the company that we commission for weapons!” she exclaims excitedly, promptly following the introduction to her occupation. not like you hadn’t known. slightly entertained, you observe as she hangs onto the one thing that related you both, expressing admiration and wishes for future improvements that you do somehow care enough to remember for next time.

then comes the invitation.

dinner at her place, along with her friend, or coworker, emphasising how beneficial it would be to know your neighbours, just in case. you contemplate.

it’s not like you were worried about deterring a man-made plot, after all, they were merely fictional characters designed for your entertainment, and you would love some right now. besides, you hardly remember what it was about besides chasing the high of being in the place of someone else. so you nodded, and your foot exits your doorway.

her place was lived in, warm, a bit messy but it reflected the balance of chaos and softness that you had made her to be. you set your grocery bag onto the counter as mc chatters in the back to fill in the silence, and make eye contact with xavier. he sits there stand-offishly, clearly taken a back by the unplanned addition to the party.

you hadn’t exactly expected to feel anything when you thought about the hypothetical situation in which you would encounter the love interests, but part of you still yearns to understand the feeling of what it’s like to be attracted to someone, to want to devote your life to someone, the foundation that built every song, the feeling that drives every story. and so when you looked at the love interest, all you felt was disappointment - disappointed for not even a small ripple of emotion described by others took place within you. so, you sighed and your eyes locked on mc’s form once again.

maci mistook your expectant gaze and hurriedly scurried to your side, looping her hand through the crook of your arm in a familiar fashion, leaning into you as she excitedly introduced xavier to you. and you once again feigned ignorance, giving him a more or less disinterested glance while he tensed up at the proximity between you and mc, observing the dynamic between the two. she gets even more chipper when it came to introducing you, delightfully declaring you as the newest neighbour on her floor close in age. “it’s such a crazy coincidence that they work for the company that designed and produced the latest batch of our weapons! we can even give them suggestions on improvements directly without having to go through the dreaded and painstaking official reports every time,” she mused.

you tilt your head, eyes darting between the confused and wary expression on his face as he witnesses mc’s overshare of information to a complete stranger, to the overt fervour that drips from her voice as she rambles about everything and anything. and perhaps, for the first time you felt a touch of fondness for someone, a kind of endearment similar to the likeness that comes from witnessing your pet curry favour with you by acting cute.

this was the most entertaining thing you’ve witnessed as of late.

xavier sees the small lopsided smile you donned despite the faraway look in your eyes as maci continues to go off on a tangent, the feeling of discomfort grows heavy in his chest. he’s never really seen maci act in this matter, she was sweet and kind - he knows and he adores that about her, it felt like a countering balance to his quiet and reserved demeanour, but she was never this unguarded in what she shares. they were hunters after all, the survival skills built from a foundation of experiences and betrayals, they know better. so he truly feels unsettled as maci unravels every aspect of her life, and the unintentional gleam that shines in her eyes every time you made any signs of acknowledgement. and that feeling amplifies even further on the rare occasion in which your eyes would meet his and it felt like you were looking through them, a detached sense of leisure as if you were watching a play.

there was no immediate indication that proves you a threat, yet he continues being on alert even as he offers tensed replies to maci’s prompting, and maybe a hint bit of smugness as she mentioned their natural affinity in their earlier days of working.

“yeah, it’s almost like you’ve known each other for lifetimes.”

his head snaps to your direction at your offhanded comment as maci giggles and jokingly agrees, his eyes wide against the uninterested expression on your face. who are you?

this was just so entertaining to you.

amber burns at the cigarette end hanging from your lips. you’ve tried excusing yourself to leaving mc’s place by needing a smoke, but she had relentlessly insisted that you used her balcony, even providing you a precious cartoon character porcelain mug to put the cig butts in. you almost feel guilt for the extent of her hospitality so far contrasting your level of enthusiasm in engaging with them. you can tell the love interest on the other side of the glass had fully expected for some personal time with mc, a small celebration following an accomplishment of sorts, you assumed, and your intrusion had seriously thrown him off.

mc gives both your hands a squeeze as you bid her goodnight, disregarding the smell of smoke clinging to you as she made you promise to join her social circle by introducing you to more people, even more ecstatic when you had agreed without much needed convincing. and as she waves at you like a little kid, a big smile on her face while the door closes, you make eye contact with the male standing behind her while he watches you leave with furrowed brows.

finally, something to look forward to.

heyyyy,, hiii, been a while innit :'D im slowly trying to ease back into the writing swing bc holy shit social media fatigue is so real i feel like im just rotting away QAQ.

your philosophy for creating a character to play as would be same to most, if not all others: to create the unattainable ideal self, the one you wish you could be just by waking up one morning.

hair not a strand out of place, a loveable face, perfect and poised. there would be imperfections, but the kind that people would softly brush at in adoration, something that would make her special, something that would warm their hearts as she burns into their memories, taking up space without needing permission - a kind of beauty that was authentic, but almost unreal.

always knowing what to say, how to act. she's strong, vulnerable in ways that are endearing. she’d be capable, her shortcomings would be forgiven because everyone loved her. she’s rough around the edges sometimes, but it just adds to her charm. she never makes mistakes unless it benefits her in some way, it’d always be a calculated and faultless decision.

she’s smart and kind. she’s perfect. she’s always wanted.

you’d argue everyone’s ideal version of themselves would be close to a god, a level of unrealistic perfection - something beyond human. 

but wasn’t that the whole point? if you could not live as perfection, you could at least pretend you were. it didn’t matter that the intention of the game was meant for you to be yourself and everything would fall into place, but why would you do that if you knew it was untrue? didn’t you have to do that enough already? what’s the harm of living a lie that harms no one when it wasn’t real in the first place? 

so, who would care that she wasn’t you but merely a reflection of what ifs and excellence.

she’s a version of you that’s more deserving, she’s everything good in you and more. 

you? you were but a mere mortal carrying the ache that shaped you, and she - the revised form moulded without consequences. you pull the strings, she lives it out.

even as you close your eyes and imagine a different reality, you were never you, you were her, someone more worthy. you controlled the narrative without ever taking part, a crucial role that never appears in the play.

an omniscient observer, awake and aware even in sleep, you liked it that way.

even after the numerous accounts of the same cycle, coming out of that sleep always remained excruciating, but it is a routine, a routine that requires all steps to be followed. so just as another story ends and you’re ready to move onto the next, the familiar action of opening your eyes and being welcomed back to reality was nothing new, everything goes just as it always does. you just didn’t expect that she’d be there in front of you as well.

the picture frame feels light in your hand, the lack of weight made you question if any of this was real at all. you’ve been trying to make sense of the situation, piecing together clues based on what’s surrounding you, all you know is that you’re not where you’re supposed to be. every photograph that you had shuffled through in your measly-sized move-in box only gave you more questions than answers: you, the subject of it all yet either never in frame and in focus, or always facing away from the camera. you thought if you stared hard enough, it would evoke some memory, some feeling, something useful. nothing happens.

your focus drifted off the useless portraits to your reflection on the framed glass, the real you. nothing about you had changed on the surface, nothing different besides the uncertainty, maybe a little disappointed that despite everything around you having shifted, the reality you’re experiencing had drastically changed, and how everything around you is unfamiliar  - you still couldn’t feel a thing. has anything truly changed, if so?

mc had offered to help you with moving in, although in an awkward manner accounting for the fact that there were exactly 3 medium sized moving boxes and a single suitcase in front of your door besides the one backpack resting on your shoulder. she’d jokingly stated that you were a light packer, inviting banter. you didn’t laugh.

it admittedly feels more than a smidge uncanny to have encountered the product of your insecurities and shame, the feeling of not being good enough, woven together by the naive delusion of being someone different just for a little while; and now you must look at that creation in its eyes. everything opposite of you’ve come to loathe, to hide away from, to deny its existence is now a walking reminder of who you could never become. so, you didn’t laugh.

inside your unfurnished apartment where everything you had to your name laid bare. there’s not much besides necessities packed, which was admittedly odd to most. it’s as if you had just up and went to start anew, but it didn’t feel like that to you, it felt more like you were filling in a blank, an empty spot of a presence. you’ve been staring at the move-in boxes within your new empty apartment, an almost next door neighbour of mc herself - or maci as what you had called her in the game, and the name she introduced herself as, because you couldn’t fathom the pixels on the screen to know the real you. 

everything around you had changed, yet you remained the same. so once again, by routine, the dull thumping of a headache at the back of your head starts to weigh heavy working overtime, and out of habit, you reach into the pocket of your jeans: your favourite brand of cigarettes, or some sort of off-brand version from its spelling, but the packaging is the same nonetheless, worn out from movement and a lighter inside. you were still you.

unsure about the smoking policy of your new apartment complex, you ventured outside the building to be safe. the world was colourful, orange bled into blue, reflected on the greenest of leaves, painting the scene with warmth before its descent into night, before it gets cold. it was vibrant and unreal.  and you, a monotone shade of grey with smoke curling out your nose, so out of place, a puzzle piece you’re not sure fits. a devitalized existence in a world too bright to be kind to those lesser. each drag felt a bit more comforting, a familiar and tangible sensation as you rolled the cigarette between your fingers and marvelled, the tether to routine, to your reality. nothing has changed.

and by routine, it gets crushed under the sole of your shoes after serving its purpose.

night falls, there were stars in the sky. you know, but you don’t see them. the moon hidden behind layers of cloud, outshined by the artificial lights of the city. it almost feels nostalgic in a way. when you were…home, every time you’d leave your flat, it felt like you crossed a defined threshold of dream and reality. things were cold and cruel, too many factors out of control, too many decisions to make. and when you’d return, it was like entering a warm cocoon, safe and away from it all. now, it felt like the opposite.

now, within your apartment, you’re holding onto the truth that this is not your reality, and it’s a cut-throat truth that you’re unsure how to navigate. you gaze into the distance, something that previously observed through a screen still feels like pixels to you - it’s simply not real. out there, that’s the actual dream, and in here, you’re sitting with the burden of it all. but there’s nothing else to be done, and so, you continue carrying out the same routine.

after all, every day is all you had.

short chapter sinceee im testing the waters w this concept... see if im gonna get tomatoes thrown at me QAQ i wanted to do more of a sort of loser depressed reader vibe if that makes sense (me lol), like i used to drown myself in entertainment that most of the time i would think is bs, but i did it to feel smth, to be in a different reality bc i thought it was too late to start mine and only gotten interested in different things outside of studying and whatever would benefit my university application. it might not be what a lot of people like, i know majority of the non!mc stories there's some sort of bond between the characters that either pre-existed or born from the gameplay. im not very knowledgeable in romantic areas, so this might be a huge miss to a lot of you 🙏 sorry gang. i kind of wanted to have a reader that never actively avoids them as to 'not mess the plot up', nor has like a deep connection w anyone and is heartbroken from the start, if their existence intersects so be it type shii #nonchalant; a reader that craves a different life but too paralyzed by fatigue to actually commit changes, if you will. lmk what yall think 🙏 interactions mucchhh appreciated :heh: