CHAPTER 46: AFTERMATH

It was high noon, and I was sweating bullets in the bathroom. My head was against the cool tile, and I swore steam was coming out of my ears, even though I’d already showered. No amount of water could rinse away what just happened in the last... Hour? Or two, three? I didn’t even know.

My brain had turned into mashed potatoes and was currently baking in its own gravy... Do potatoes have gravy?

Through the cracked bathroom door, I could hear Tanya moving around the apartment. Closet door sliding, drawers opening, the faint thud of hangers. And then, the sound of fabric, she was putting on clothes... And I was curious enough, so after a moment, I finally gathered enough courage to shuffle out, I borrowed a towel to cover myself (as if she hadn’t seen my insides already) and saw that she was already dressed.

And god help my aching cervix, because she looked... unfair.

It wasn’t some princess dress or tight leather outfit like I’d expect from, you know, someone who just gave me the greatest climax I’d ever felt in years. Tanya was rather minimalistic and clean.

An ironed white button-up shirt, crisp but not stiff, tucked loosely into slim black slacks, like a company woman, which was a . A thin belt, practical, I noticed makeup, but not that substantial that I’d be able to tell, she was probably just too good that it looked natural, or I just had bad eyes.

Her hair was still damp, trailing down her shoulders, but instead of making her look messy it framed her like she’d just walked out of a perfume ad. Elegant, womanly, but leaning masculine enough that it made my brain short-circuit, perhaps the masculine part came from my brain associating her with topping me like we’re at Subway.

"...That’s illegal," I muttered, half under my breath, rubbing my wet bangs out of my eyes, "To have boobs that mesmerizing."

Her head tilted slightly, that same cold, neutral smile pasted across her face like she’d just been told a harmless joke.

I plopped onto the sofa, clutching the towel around me like I was guarding the Epstein files. Tanya sat down right beside me, not bothering with personal space, and leaned in close.

I was afraid that she was going to fingernail my nipples again—as she was quite rough when it came to that, maybe retaliation of me biting hers—so I kinda back off. But before I could even retreat into the corner, she pressed a light kiss onto my forehead.

Just the smallest brush, but it shot straight down my spine like a lightning strike my eyes met her neck.

"You..." I squeaked, pointing at her as she backed away, "...You’re scary, you know that, why do you, like... Um, walk around just- Not saying anything like that? You do everything without saying anything and it’s freaking me out, you were so talkative in game... Are you- are you one of those people that only express themselves behind the screen? Like, trolls, ragebaiters?"

She didn’t answer. Of course she didn’t, she just sat there, poised, serene, like she wasn’t the reason my soul was currently trying to crawl out through my ears.

I cleared my throat, trying to salvage some dignity. "So... Uh, about that whole username theft thing... You said that you had to choose mine?"

"Mhm, I lost mine," she said simply, her eyes flickered toward me, calm and sharp at the same time. "Someone squatted mine first."

"So your brilliant idea was to... to steal mine? Out of all the millions of names in existence, you took CJS69? Do you even understand how traumatic that is for me? I’ve built my entire online reputation on that stupid string of characters! Now if you, like, scam someone or strip naked in the town’s square... Oh god please don’t do that"

Her smile never wavered, she didn’t even blink, and she answered concisely without addressing my latter point, "It suited me." She said.

My eye twitched. I wanted to scream into a pillow, or maybe just into her face (and maybe she’ll give me a kiss on the lips as a way to shut me up, and the thought is hot), but given how things went last time I tried talking to her, that could spiral into another kind of physical activity.

But Tanya wasn’t giving me any more than that; the thought of her username being taken before mine baffles me, considering I’m the top 3.

I noticed that she was also in the top 50, so I wondered which one she was, because wouldn’t even give me a hint when I tried asking her for it.

My brain started chasing its own tail, cycling through lists of players I’d recognized and interacted with, the ones who were all-time favorites. No way could she be #7 - God of Racism, that guy would rush to change his race into Elf to spout morally-correct and lore-accurate racist remarks, while her avatar was still human.

No way it could be #22 – Diety of Lust either, because that one’s confirmed a guy. Could she be #24 – 42 Supports In One? Possibly, but she seemed more like the loner type, while that guy relies on his team to shine.

...

She couldn’t be #1 - Unnamed Monarch (DarkHeavens) or #2 - Architect of Hope (SeeOh), could she?

That would explain why her username was taken first...

...

No, this shit’s ridiculous.

I wanted to shake her shoulders until she confessed, but I also wanted to crawl into her lap again and give up on thinking forever. I did neither, trying to logic instead.

"Okay. Fine, keep your secret, weather boy, but that doesn’t explain how you..." my voice cracked, "...how you made a male avatar. That’s against the rules, we all read the rules and accept the ToS of Darkmoon Adventure VR. No penis mode, strictly chest slider territory, so what’s your excuse?"

Her eyes softened by a millimeter, maybe less. "I don’t have one."

That’s not an answer! That’s a non-answer! Y- I... Yeah, I do appreciate my username being associated with a guy because that will decrease the doxxing potential but still, you have to give me an answer, you owe me one because you’re using my identity!"

She didn’t budge, and she didn’t explain.

My pleading, my half-coherent rambling, my increasingly desperate theories about modded clients and insider dev connections, all met with the same silence.

Eventually I slumped back against the sofa, towel damp against the cushions as I just gave up, throwing it away, letting myself be naked.

"Unbelievable. I live three floors under you, in the same building, and I never even saw you or even know that there’s another Top-50 in the area. How’s that possible?"

Her gaze flicked down at me, amused in the tiniest way.

Then it hit me, the crushing, embarrassing realization.

"...Oh," I muttered, burying my face in my hands. "Right, because I’m a shut-in failure who only leaves the apartment to get instant noodles and maybe toilet paper. Yeah... That explains it."

Tanya didn’t deny it. She just reached over, resting her palm lightly on my head, like she was blessing a particularly pathetic pet.

I sighed, peeling my hands off my face.

"Fine, you win... Let’s... exchange contacts, or something, I already got your phone number, but I need to know you if shit hits the fan and I need to sue you or debunk claims about myself. Please?"

This time, she finally answered.

"Sure." Quite casually so.

"Alright, I’ll go first! Cory Jay Smith, 23, undergrad dropout, now proudly unemployed, selling SFW photos online for pocket change while surviving on government handouts, your turn?"

If I expected her to flinch, I was wrong. Tanya met my eyes calmly and said, "Tanya, 29, prostitute."

..................

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I work as a prostitute, I have people over to have sex with for money, or I come to them, mostly people I know." she repeated, same tone as if she were saying "accountant" or "librarian."

"No you don’t, no, you fucking don’t, be serious, please." My jaw unhinged "Look at this place! You’ve got groceries, clean furniture, a gaming pod! Do prostitutes even get time to play MMOs? You’re like, disturbingly... normal. A healthy, functional adult, and that just doesn’t make any sense!"

She only smiled, that small, cold, perfect god damn mocking smile. No elaboration and no shame.

I sell photos online to gooners, yeah, sure, sue me, but at least I have the decency to not show any vital organs and never take such pride in boasting it or make it my full-time job, but she was...

And for some insane reason, that smile didn’t scare me anymore. It just made me feel smaller, weaker, and weirdly... in place, in a low place, like a cage.

I flopped sideways on the sofa, towel back on to barely cover my crotch, leaving my tits open as my eyes staring up at her.

"You’re... A hot enigma."

I trailed off after coming up with that ridiculous combination of words, my cheeks were burning, my mind a mess.

Her hand found mine, cool and steady, and she held it without a word.

For the first time in years, the silence didn’t feel suffocating.

It felt like the start of something that was about to ruin me.