Why do you want to leave your world?
Left without an answer this time, Farah swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “I don’t really know how to explain it. Maybe..” Her gaze dropped to the ground. “..it’s because this game world isn’t real. We get to be something different here.”
Kristian scoffed. His lips formed a thin line as the muscles in his face tightened. “More like vent and take advantage of this world.”
This was not the first time he had told her about what atrocious things other gamers did in the virtual world. It was sickening. Yet she too was looking for an outlet for her emotions. She too was guilty.
She cautiously asked, “What happened?”
His chest heaved a few times, an angry huff expelled from his lips. “Some bastard decided to make a pass at one of the female cadets. I had to drag her off for cleaning duty the entire day just to get him off her back.”
She winced. “Do you remember the username? I’ll launch a complaint.”
“Yeah, motherfucker was called… “ Kristian searched his memory. “Z3kepA.”
Nodding, she switched tabs and lodged a formal complaint complete with the evidence files provided by Kristian. “Done,” she announced. “Hopefully they get to it soon.”
“They’d better.” Bitterness and anger laced in his tone, Kristian directed his gaze at the floor with an intensity that could burn right through it.
Shifting uncomfortably around, Farah racked her brain to find something to break the tense atmosphere. “Ah that reminds me,” she exclaimed and whipped her head to face him, a grin on her face. “I uploaded some files to the game folder. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Oh?” Kristian’s brows lifted. “I’ll pull it up now.”
As he busied himself behind the scenes, she noticed that usual glint of excitement in his eyes. Like watching a kid unwrap his Christmas present, it gave her warm tingles down her back. Shouts and cheers from the morning’s soccer match resounded in the virtual world and she closed her eyes, remembering that exquisite feeling as she scored her team’s winning goal.
“So that’s soccer huh,” Kristian remarked, a smile drawn across his lips. “Seems like more fun than the battles we do here.”
She cupped a hand to cover a snort. “I knew you would like it. You would make a good striker, you know.”
“Really?” He reached a hand out to ruffle her hair. “That means a lot coming from a runt like you.”
“Hey!” Protesting, she puffed out her chest. “I’m the best striker the school has ever seen and I’ve grown a feet taller in real life although you can’t see it here!”
Kristian smirked. “Yeah yeah, I know that. You’re good. Really good.”
Her eyes widened and she averted her gaze, suddenly shy at his sincere words. “T-thanks,” she mumbled appreciatively.
“You should show this to your parents, Farah.”
Her jubilant mood was brought down in an instant. She shook her head. “Nah, it’s not like they’ll give me the time anyway.”
Almost as if on cue, she heard the footsteps entering her bedroom too soon before she could switch tabs. Unable to even give Kristian a heads up that she was leaving, her frantic hands flung the headset to one side and quickly found the keyboard. But it was too late by the time she jammed her fingers on the keys to minimize the window.
In the corner of her eyes, a towering silhouette sent chills down her spine. Her eyes slowly traveled to her side, taking in a pair of folded arms and manicured fingers. She gulped and looked up to see the disapproving look on her mother’s face.
“Farah. Come downstairs. Your father and I want to talk to you.” Delivered in a curt and firm tone, the older woman turned sharply before heading back out the door.
Farah groaned. She sensed that whatever was coming, it wasn’t good. She locked her computer, the screen switching to a saved image of the Battle of Kings landscape with Kristian in the background. She glanced at it for a second longer, her fingers lingering on Kristian’s face.
I’ll be back.
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