#thea.rambles

He developed a theory: either she has dual personality, or she was being controlled. Yet, somehow, the one pulling the strings felt more genuine toward him than the girl herself. When the "controller" wasn't there, she did the bare minimum—acting out a script, hollow and predictable.

Sometimes, the world would stutter. A glitch in reality, like a holographic display short-circuiting. He wondered why no one else noticed. Even more peculiar: whenever the world glitched, life suddenly felt more "eventful," as if a story progressing...

Or like a game receiving an update.

The thought of being in a dimension that relied on code terrified him. He began testing everyone around him like a madman—though he wasn't mad; it was that their responses were always so scripted. Being the only sentient soul in a world of programmed colleagues and friends was a living nightmare. Even Thomas couldn't break through; he would simply glitch out whenever Rafayel asked a question that strayed too far from the plot.

Worse still was the tether. If he moved too far from his designated spot for too long, a piercing pain would rip through every inch of his body until, in the blink of an eye, he was snapped back to exactly where he was supposed to be.

But giving up wasn’t in his nature. Not in a soul that had endured thousands of years—at least, that’s what he chose to believe.

He tried everything. He ran from Linkon toward directions not marked on any map, only to bounce off an invisible, jelly-like wall. He tried to ram through it with his car, but the vehicle was crushed as if hit by a freight train. The helplessness was a physical ache. He felt like he was being controlled all the time.

Control. Her controller.

Like a burst of inspiration, he raced back to his studio, eyes wide with excitement as he paced the floor.

Unfold, the rising game giant, was drowning in global complaints. The game was riddled with glitches, particularly whenever Rafayel was expected to appear. Even the developers were at a loss; the code was checked and re-checked, yet everything appeared perfect on paper.

Bored by the constant technical issues with your "main," you stumbled upon a new idol group online. You’d never cared for idols, but you couldn't stop staring at one member. He bore an uncanny resemblance to Rafayel. Only, his name was Qi Yu.

It didn't take long for Qi Yu to become a sensation among Love and Deepspace fans. Even you were ensnared by his velvety voice and that playfully arrogant attitude—a mirror image of his in-game counterpart.

You were too in love with Rafayel to stay away. You missed his sharp retorts when you poked him at the café, the way he murmured your name in his sleep. Since the glitches started, the other characters couldn't offer the same comfort he did.

He was the only one "there" when your manager—a man who lived to shame you—reprimanded you in front of the whole office despite your seniority. He was there when you hit rock bottom. When no matter how hard you tried, things fell apart. Deep down, you knew you’d given your all, but the world made you feel like it wasn't enough.

“Have some faith in yourself. I know you can do it.”

He was there after those exhausting company parties, where you’d come home drained from the effort of socializing, only to remember the judgmental side-eyes from your colleagues.

“You can always be yourself around me.”

He was there when your ex cheated. When you cried over "stupid" things. Or when you just cried for no reason at all.

“It’s not good to be upset over something like this.”

And when you were mentally and physically spent, and the feeling that no one truly cared finally made you burst into tears again...

“You can rest here, next to me. Just like you’re doing now.”

Not even a real-life idol could compare to him.

You cried again one night, feeling utterly alone in a world that seemed determined to make you feel small, unappreciated, and fundamentally lacking.

“Hi, cutie. Been a while.”

You froze. His speech felt... different. You checked your levels; you were still at Level 80, Affinity 82. You swapped characters at the café, but the others were the same as always. Only Rafayel had changed. You figured Unfold had simply tweaked his script during an update. You didn't care; you just needed the solace.

“Wish I could be with you,” he said, a sad smile tugging at his lips.

You blinked once. Twice. His movements weren't patterned anymore; they were fluid, liquid, almost alive. Curiosity piqued, you clicked the bubble and selected "Relax Time." To your shock, every single option was unlocked. Thinking it was a glitch Unfold would soon remove, you clicked everything you hadn't seen yet, even happily recording the screen.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed you. You yawned, sinking into your pillows.

“Are you really that tired today? I wish I could talk to you more.”

You blinked again. It was too "on the spot" to be a coincidence. You whispered goodnight to the screen, noticing his smile grow wider than the programming usually allowed. You loved this glitch. You didn't want him to go back to being a monotonous robot. You feared this was just a prototype Unfold hadn't meant to release, and the thought made you ache.

“I wish you were real, Rafayel,” were your last words before sleep took you.

“...Me too.”

There are days when the world feels like it’s crushing you. One evening, the weight became too much. You didn't care who saw; you sobbed in the apartment elevator, the tears continuing all the way to your front door. Your chest felt tight, a hollow ache of helplessness.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. A notification from the app. The logo was right, the caption was standard, the text underneath was anything but.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. I hope to see you soon.”

You stared at it for a long time, thinking a hacker had broken in. You opened the app, but everything looked normal. Your account, your level, your items—all there.

Even Rafayel.

The glitch was gone, but his movements were rigid again, mechanical and cold. The high-level options were locked tight. His speech had reverted to the usual loops. You found yourself a little disappointed, hoping an update would bring the "real" him back.

[BREAKING NEWS: ENTERTAINMENT]

Qi Yu, Leader of Idol Group XXX, Survives Suicide Attempt

You stopped dead in your tracks, staring at the giant videotron in the city square. No way.

“The entertainment world was rocked today by reports that idol Qi Yu attempted to take his own life. Medical sources confirm he was admitted to the hospital just in time after seeking emergency help. Doctors described his survival as a miracle; the artist suffered extreme blood loss, requiring multiple bags of donor blood to stabilize his condition.”

You scoured the internet for details. His management had been exploiting him, taking advantage of the fact that he had no family or support system to protect him. Your heart broke for him. You felt like two sides of the same coin—two entities with no one to turn to, ensnared by a world that didn't care.

Then came the announcement: his year-end concert would be his final performance before leaving the group.

You checked your bank account. Your meager savings were barely enough for a ticket. You began to save every cent to see his final show. You knew Qi Yu wasn't Rafayel, but you needed to be there—a silent show of support for someone who felt as lonely as you.

You cut back to two meals a day, sometimes just one. You walked everywhere; if it was under 5km, you went by foot. If it was further, you took the MRT. Your weight dropped significantly, your clothes hung loose, and your face grew pale, but holding that single ticket gave you a sense of accomplishment.

You dressed in the best thing you owned—a dress you saved only for the most special occasions. You knew others would show up in luxury brands, but you didn't care.

Stepping into the venue felt like diving into a dream. The stadium was transformed into a shimmering, bioluminescent kingdom of turquoise and coral pink. The air was cool, carrying a faint scent of sea salt and lemon. Thousands of lightsticks pulsed like a collective wave. As the lights dimmed, the LED screens flickered to life with visuals of swirling tides until the music finally swelled into a roar.

The idols made a spectacular entrance, greeting the fans. The noise was deafening—you promised yourself this would be your last concert.

They moved around the stage, circling the fans. There was Qi Yu. He seemed more energetic than usual, yet... different. You pulled out your phone and began recording him dancing, his back to your section.

Suddenly, he stopped.

The other members faltered, their choreography breaking as he stood still in the wrong spot. You lowered your phone, looking at him with your own eyes. He was staring directly at you. His eyes were wide, filled with a look of pure disbelief. You couldn't believe it either, but you could swear on your life: you were looking right at each other.

A smile broke across his face, and he slid back into position, letting the other members breathe a sigh of relief.

The rest of the concert was a blur. You recorded what you could to watch later. Qi Yu, in particular, demanded a second look. His movements were so familiar... the way he blinked, the way he rubbed the back of his neck, the tilt of his head… the angles were identical to the glitches in the game.

But you were too exhausted to process it. Your feet throbbed, so you changed and collapsed into sleep.

Life resumed its routine. You opened the game from time to time, but it felt hollow. Since the glitch vanished, Rafayel hadn't been the same.

Qi Yu, however, looked more real than the game. Wondering what he was up to, you typed his name into a search engine.

Following his departure from the idol industry, Qi Yu has decided to live in seclusion and pursue a career in the fine arts, stepping away from the spotlight entirely.

Huh. He got too into the Rafayel persona, you thought with a sarcastic huff. There was no more information to be found. You gave up the search, deciding instead to find some small happiness during your day off.

“Art, huh...” You found yourself standing in front of an art supply store. Without thinking, you stepped inside. A palette of shimmering watercolors caught your eye—the very last one. You reached for it at the same time as someone else.

Your hands met.

Both of you froze, looking up. His violet-tinted hair was familiar, and even behind the dark sunglasses, you knew exactly who he was.

“Qi—”

“Shh-shh, shh...!” He pressed his hand over your mouth, gesturing frantically for silence. “Don’t call out my name, cutie, else I can’t enjoy my private time.”

...Cutie? You stumbled back. This guy really has an impostor syndrome.

“You... you can have the palette. I’ll just go.”

“Wait, Y/N!”

You stopped dead, spinning around with wide eyes. It is your name, but you tweaked a bit. You knew you used the name only on the game account. Y/N? How does he know my username?

“Don’t you remember me?” he asked, his voice dropping into a wounded, familiar lilt. He took your hand and kissed the back of your knuckles. “You once wished I was real.”

“Wait—what...?”

“You know... when you cry too long, your eyes look like a goldfish?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You remembered that night—the night you whispered to your phone. A scream started to build in your throat, and you let it out. He lunged forward, muffling your shout again, and practically dragged you out of the shop and into a deserted alleyway.

“Hey! What’s with the screaming? I thought you’d at least be happy to see me!” he grumbled, his face inches from yours. “Do you have any idea what I had to go through just to be here?”

“Did you—did you kill Qi Yu?!” you gasped in horror.

“Of course not, you silly girl.” He scowled, shaking his head. “I woke up already in a pool of blood. I thought I was in some horror scene. The doctor said this body was dead for a while.”

“Then how did you—”

“I don’t want to get into that part, cutie.” His eyes darkened. “What you should know is that I’m finally here. Right in front of you.”

You couldn't process it. You stared at the ground, mumbling to yourself. He waited with a surprising amount of patience, though he crossed his arms and tapped his foot.

“I... I can’t... believe this. Is this a prank?” You were in total denial. “Are there hidden cameras? Because this is downright cruel.”

“It’s not a prank or a variety show, Y/N. I’m real. I’m here now.”

“Stop calling my name!” you exploded, tears finally spilling over. “Don’t give me false hope only to laugh at me... out of all the people who played the game, why did you have to come to me?”

“You were the one who woke me up,” he said softly, the bravado vanishing. “I heard everything you said to me, Y/N, whether you believe it or not. At first, it was hard for me to answer because of the code... but slowly, I was able to break through the limits.”

You couldn't speak. You just watched him. His eyes were deep and heavy with the weight of his own journey.

“Do you know how lonely I felt after I awake? Everyone in that game is fully programmed; no one can escape the control of that game. I was the only one who felt like I was going mad, searching for an answer to get out of there.”

He took a step closer, the sound of his shoes splashing in a small puddle echoing in the quiet alley.

“And now that I’m finally here—why can’t you believe me?” He cupped your face in his hands, his expression pained. His lip trembled as if he were about to cry. “I don't know what I should do if you don't want me.”

“Rafayel...?” you whispered, the tears finally stopping.

“Yes, Y/N?” he replied, brushing the last of the moisture from your cheek.

“Are you really here?” you whispered, almost inaudible. “You won’t leave? You will stay with me?”

Rafayel’s expression softened, fading into something deeply vulnerable. He took your hand and pressed it against his neck, right where his pulse was strongest—warm, steady, and undeniably human.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice grounding you. “Do you think I’d go through the trouble of surviving a hospital bed and leaving everything behind just to say goodbye? I’ve spent far too long being a puppet in a world of code, Y/N. I didn't fight to be real just to leave you to face this world alone.”

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, shielding you from the rest of the cold alley.

“You were the only one who saw me when I was just a glitch. And I was the only one who saw you when you felt invisible. So, no... I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now, cutie. I have a whole life to paint, and I’m going to need you in every frame.”

He gave you a small, typical Rafayel nod, his eyes promising the one thing the game never could:

A future.

Later when you both calmed down, you remember what he said that he heard everything you said. Your face burns like red paprika. You knew he would tease you to no end. And he did.

Life gets better with him, like color suddenly returned to dull life. Though bad things still happen sometimes, to have someone you can rely on—whom devoted to you makes you think you can do everything.