Glitch: How’s the boyfriend?
His name’s Jason, but I call him Cocksucker in my head all the time. Ara’s usually busy with him, which is one of the reasons she doesn’t get to play with us often.
Ara666: Broke up a few weeks ago.
If she didn’t already have all my attention, she does now. I pull my headphones off and lean forward to stare at those six perfect words. Broke up a few weeks ago. They broke up weeks ago? My heart pounds in my ears.
Glitch: Sad or happy? Do I need to get out champagne or a shovel?
Ara doesn’t answer, and it takes me a hot minute to realize it’s because they’ve started the game without me. I put my headphones back on and turn up the volume.
“Ara!” chirps Carson in a whiney voice.
“Suck it, Carson,” she shoots back.
God damn. Her voice never fails to make me insta-hard. It drips into my brain and pumps hella hot blood straight to my cock. She’s the only reason I have my volume so loud. If I could filter her voice, and only hers, I’d mute the rest of the world.
My cock twitches when she asks, “Why do I always have to carry your sorry asses?”
Carson laughs like a hyena and says something obnoxious back. I can’t stand the pitch of his voice, or how he talks so much shit. He’s a hundred times worse whenever Ara plays with us. It drives me insane.
Trey introduced us to Ara as “one of the guys” when she first started playing with us. He’s not wrong. That woman can sling insults better than most and she never gets her feelings hurt when anyone trash talks. If anything, Carson has probably spent a few nights licking his wounds after she’s handed him his ass.
Ara is a unicorn. The perfect trifecta of a dirty mouth, ballsy attitude, and a beautiful laugh.
I’ve never met her face to face. Never asked what she looks like or what she does for a living beyond “makes art”。 And as far as I know, she’s never asked Trey about me either. That’s fine. Distance is good. It allows me to keep the masterpiece I’ve painted of her in my mind going without interference.
And I’m cool with keeping the Discord channel up for as long as she wants. Sometimes it makes me feel like a dog waiting for a little attention, but that’s on me. She hasn’t led me on or done anything to spur this obsession I have for her.
I did this to myself.
Trey respawns and starts shooting again. “You’ve been MIA, girl.”
Trey is a graphic designer. I’ve got my audio gig at night and run a gaming shop during the day. Carson is a photographer with zero people skills who occasionally works with Trey. Trey and I went to college together and he’s the one who has a connection to each of us and is usually the one to bring up touchy subjects first. For once, I’m grateful he has, because I’d like to know where she’s been too. It’s sucked playing without her.
“Aww, did you guys miss me?”
Carson chuckles. “I’m sure someone here has.”
I want to throat-punch him.
Before I type or utter a word, Trey says, “We were worried. Thought you might have moved on to bigger and better.”
Ara’s right on it. “Bigger assholes than you exist?”
“Oh! Shots fired!” Carson laughs.
I wait for Ara to say that her and Jason have broken up. I secretly like that maybe I’m the only one who knows that much. Some part of me relishes that maybe she confided only in me.
Ara doesn’t say anything more. In fact, she’s radio silent. I look over to see she’s not online and turn to Discord.
Glitch: You good?
She doesn’t answer. An uneasy tightness grips my chest.
Glitch: Are you okay?
Ara666: My computer is being a dicktwat.
Ara666: I’m rebooting.
She pops back up soon after. “Sorrrrryyyy! My computer is being stupid, so I moved to my laptop and it’s so slow.”
“What’s wrong with your computer?” Trey asks. Nosey fucker.
“I don’t know. It hates me.”
Trey groans. “You kicked it, didn’t you?”
I can’t hold in my laugh. It’s deep and grumbly, even as I try to keep it quiet.
“Dayem, Glitch,” Ara says, and I can hear her smile. “You’ve got a serious set of pipes.”
“Glitch can set off alarms and start avalanches with his register.”
I hate Carson. Have I said that already? Before I get twitchy, I redirect them. “Alright, alright, get back to the game, fuckers.”
Look, I know some people have a thing for voices—it’s how I make decent cash with my side hustle—but I hate when it becomes a joke. Even if it’s a harmless one. Yeah, yeah, go ahead and eye roll me, but my voice sounds like I’ve swallowed a box of rocks mixed with glass shards. It might be great now, but it sure as shit wasn’t when I was growing up.