Dad Bod Gargoyle

Chapter 1

The bright lights blind me as I weave through the vibrant crowd at the gaming convention narrowly avoiding collision with enthusiastic attendees and colorful booths. Applause echoes from the stage. My co-worker and arch-nemesis, Harvey, is wrapping up his presentation.

My heart races.

Backstage, I check the equipment with trembling hands. An LED screen, black controllers, and a VR headset—all set. Drawing in a deep breath, I savor the rich aroma of coffee that lingers on my tongue.

MX_Obsidian”s deep voice echoes in my mind, a bittersweet reminder of our late-night chats. I ache for his presence, my enigmatic partner in crime. We”ve honed every detail, every line of code. ”Shadow Surge” is poised to steal the show.

”Five minutes!” my assistant calls, her voice straining to be heard over the din.

I hastily type a message to MX_Obsidian. ”You ready for this?”

His reply arrives swiftly, brimming with confidence. ”I was born ready.”

I smile, firing back a laugh emoji. Another bubble pops up. ”Don”t sweat it, Zephyr_Reign_88. I”ve got everything down pat.”

”That”s reassuring,” I type, ”because I”m one step away from blanking out on my entire speech. ” I add a face-palm emoji for good measure.

”Don”t worry about a thing. I”ve got your back.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach. MX_Obsidian”s support bolsters my wavering resolve. Peering out from behind the curtain, I survey the sea of expectant and bored faces. Harvey”s droning voice peters out, slowly followed by polite applause.

I update MX. ”Big crowd out there. Harvey”s almost done.”

His message chimes on my phone. ”Your version of the game is better. We”re going to kick his ass.”

I grip the phone tighter, a smirk tugging at my lips. Nervousness intertwines with determination, a fire stoked by his unwavering confidence in us. I square my shoulders. Harvey doesn”t stand a chance.

Game on.

Harvey cuts me a withering glare as he passes, attempting to unnerve me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, but I steel myself, refusing, to let Harvey throw me off my game.

The spotlight tracks me as I march onto the stage.

My cape ripples, the fabric shimmering, delicate embroidery tracing intricate patterns across the material. My cosplay outfit transforms me into Zephyr_Reign, the Queen from ”Shadow Surge.”

Turning slowly, my elaborate costume catches the light, the crowd erupting into cheers and whistles. I bask in it, letting the energy wash over me.

”Thank you, Harvey,” I call out, my voice amplified by the microphone clipped to my elaborate headpiece. ”And welcome, fellow gamers, to the unveiling of ‘Shadow Surge”!”

”Are you ready to experience true immersion?” I shout, thrusting my arms skyward. The crowd roars. ”Let”s do this.”

With a dramatic flourish, I slip on the VR headset, the sleek black visor obscuring my eyes. My heart races as I clutch the controller, my knuckles turning white.

The lights dim, plunging the auditorium into darkness. A hush falls over the crowd, anticipation crackling like static electricity.

”You”ve seen how my co-designer”s version of the game goes,” I say, my voice echoing through the speakers. ”But I”ve got something else to show you.”

The giant screen behind me bursts to life. The virtual landscape unfolds, a breathtaking expanse of snow-capped mountains and lush valleys.

”With the Neuralace, you”re not just moving an avatar,” I say, striding across the stage. ”You become the avatar. You see through its eyes. Sense everything, as if it were real.”

An intricate castle takes shape, all soaring spires and weathered stone. On one of the parapets, a stone gargoyle perches, frozen in place.

”Watch closely,” I purr into the microphone, my voice low and sultry. ”This is where the real magic happens.”

The stone walls of the old cathedral appear to undulate and tremble around me. A grinding, rumbling sound resounds through the speakers. The crowd murmurs in confusion, heads swiveling to pinpoint the source of the noise.

Suddenly, the gargoyle rises from its crouch with a fluidity that defies its size.

The gargoyle flashes a slow, predatory grin. He reaches out, his stone fingers curling around mine in a grip that is both gentle and unyielding.

I turn to the hologram. ”Meet my partner, MX Obsidian.”

”My queen,” MX Obsidian rumbles, his voice a blend of gravel and honey that sends a delicious shiver down my spine. ”You look lovely today.”

I toss him a coy smile, playing to the crowd. ”Why thank you, kind sir. I do try to impress.” I sink into an exaggerated curtsy, my shimmering cape pooling around me.

The crowd titters, already enraptured by our banter.

I flash him a coy smile, playing to the crowd. ”Why thank you, kind sir. I do try to impress.”

I give an exaggerated curtsy, my shimmering cape pooling around me. The crowd titters, already enraptured by our banter.

I fiddle with the mic as my wig shifted it askew.

”Our proprietary NeuraLink implant technology, ”Shadow Surge” isn”t a game—it”s an experience. NeuraLink taps into your sensory cortex, allowing you to feel the rush of flight, the clash of swords, everything.”

MX_Obsidian”s avatar gives me a subtle nod.

“I could talk for hours about the complex, multidimensional characters, and the innovative gameplay mechanics that set ”Shadow Surge” apart from other games on the market. Or we could just show you how–”

A deafening screech rends the air, cutting me off mid-sentence as a colossal bird monster, its wings blotting out the sun, dives. Its talons graze my skin, and suddenly, I”m weightless, plunging off the ledge into the gaping abyss below.

A scream tears from my throat. With a mighty roar, MX_Obsidian snaps open his wings and plunges toward the beast, his stone fists pummeling its feathered body until it releases me.

I”m falling, the ground rushing up to meet me.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around my waist, wrenching me out of my free fall. MX_Obsidian cradles me against his broad chest as he levels out, his wings beating the air. ”Got you!” he exclaims, his arms wrapped securely around me.

The crowd explodes into thunderous applause, their cheers filling the auditorium as MX_Obsidian and I glide through the virtual landscape. The sound of rushing wind and beating wings fills the speakers, perfectly synced with our movements.

”MX, can you describe what you can see and feel?” I ask.

”The wind is buffeting my face,” MX_Obsidian exclaims. ”I feel the cool kiss of condensation on my wings as we cut through the clouds.”

We glide over the snow-capped mountains, drinking in the vast landscape below. MX_Obsidian”s powerful wings carry us higher before we circle back towards the castle.

With a gentle flap of his wings, MX_Obsidian touches down on the castle roof. His taloned feet land on the weathered stone with a soft thud. The virtual reality seamlessly blends with the physical world of the auditorium.

”Bravo!” someone in the audience shouts, clapping enthusiastically.

I wish I could freeze this moment and etch every detail indelibly in my memory. The pride swelling in my chest, the grin splitting my cheeks.

As our presentation ends, the crowd surges to its feet, thundering applause like a tidal wave. Pride balloons in my chest. Our demonstration was a resounding success.

”Glad you liked it,” I say, excitement ringing in my voice. ”Any questions?”

A hand shoots up from the sea of faces. A guy in an anime t-shirt. ”That was so lifelike! Are you and MX really dating?”

Not yet.

A tingle skitters down my spine at the thought. Focus, Elisa.

”The game is currently in beta testing,” I explain. ”The trials are anonymous. I don”t know who MX is in real life. We”ve never met.”

The gargoyle spreads his wing, draping it around my shoulders. My avatar blushes, averting her glowing violet eyes. MX flashes a razor-sharp grin, eliciting another round of laughter from the crowd.

”I”ve got a question for MX,” a melodic female voice calls out. ”What makes you love the game so much?”

MX gestures at his bulky frame. ”I was an athlete, but now my leg is full of metal rods and pins. Neuralace gives me a chance to move without pain, to feel whole and unbroken again.”

A hush falls over the room, tears glistening in a few people”s eyes. My heart aches for his pain.

I turn to MX, my avatar”s hand resting gently on his stone arm. ”Thank you for sharing your story.”

MX nods, his wings folding gracefully behind his back. ”Thank you for giving me this opportunity. It”s been an honor working with you.”

I nod and turn to the audience. ”As well as promoting harmony between people who don”t look the same as us, like monsters, and not judging people on their face value, the game also has practical applications for helping people experience a reality that they don”t have access to.”

With a final smile, I turn back to the audience. ”And with that, we must say goodbye to MX for now.”

As MX”s hologram fades, the lights in the auditorium brighten.

The crowd is buzzing, hands waving in the air, desperate to know more about Shadow Surge and its incredible potential.

I grip the microphone tightly, my palms slick with sweat.

I”m a rockstar in this moment, but my mind is already offstage, yearning to reach for my phone, itching to type out a message, to reconnect with MX.

”How does the NeuraLink technology actually work?” someone calls out.

”The neural implant connects directly to your sensory cortex, allowing you to experience the game world as if it were real.”

As I launch into another explanation of the immersive RPG experience, a part of me aches to ditch this QA and race backstage to message MX.

To revel in our shared triumph, our partnership forged through countless hours of collaboration. That’s a pretty big deal for a game tester who is only a volunteer. But we connected instantly from the moment we started working together.

We clicked. It was the reason my boss waived the rules, or at least bent them a little. I’m the only team member with access to a tester, and I don’t want to lose this privilege.

My thoughts drift to him, and I subtly adjust my stance to alleviate the insistent pulse between my thighs.

Down, girl.

”Last question!” I call out.

After a polite ”thank you,” and a parting smile, I slip backstage.

In the dressing room, I carefully unclasp the intricate headpiece. All the while, I can”t stop smiling.

With trembling fingers, I tap out a message to MX_Obsidian. ”Thank you so much. That went better than I could have imagined. That crowd lapped it up. They loved it.”

His reply chimes almost instantly. I pause, one arm halfway through the sleeve of my shimmering cape, to read it.

MX: ”I”ll do anything to help smash Harvey.”

I laugh.

ME: ”Thank you for sharing your story with everyone,” I type back. ”It was really touching.”

MX: ”You”ll make me get all emosh. And we don”t want that. You”ll break a guy”s stone heart and we can”t have that now can we?”

”Great acting by the way,” I send, my fingers tapping out the message quickly. ”People thought we were a couple.”

Another message from MX_Obsidian flashes on my screen.

”Who”s acting?”

My breath hitches, my fingers hovering over the screen. Did he? No, he couldn”t have meant it like that. Could he?

I start to type a response, then delete it. What do I even say to that?

I set my phone down, focusing on removing my cosplay outfit. The intricate fabric slips off my skin, leaving me feeling exposed in more ways than one.

As I change into my regular clothes, my mind keeps circling back to MX_Obsidian”s message. ”Who”s acting?”

The words echo in my head, taunting me with possibilities.

I try to focus on the here and now—the tangle of cables, the blinking of console lights, and the hurried steps of technicians—but it”s no use. My mind is still buzzing from that session with Brody.

I close my eyes for a moment and relive the rush, the undeniable pull of something special.

God, the things that man does to me, and we haven”t even met in person yet. I wipe my slick palms against my jeans, trying to compose myself. But it”s no use. Brody has me completely undone.

I remember the way his gargoyle character looked at mine, the intensity, the playfulness. It was a performance, sure, but behind it, there was something real.

I close my eyes and picture his strong, chiseled features, the coiled power in his muscular frame. I imagine what it would be like to have those powerful arms wrapped around me, to feel the heat of his skin against mine. More than that, I imagine behind the agile mind lies a kind heart.

A complex mix of desire and yearning hits me like a wave, a tangible surge of longing.

With Brody, it”s like he”s reaching out through the screen, through the game, and connecting with something inside me. I”ve never experienced anything like this. This is different.

A notification from Brody pops up on my screen. I click on the link, a news article detailing the accident that ended Brody”s racing career. As I read through the article, my chest tightens, a mixture of sympathy and admiration swelling within me.

The description of his mangled leg makes me wince, but what strikes me most is the vulnerability he”s showing by sharing this painful memory with me.

I study his chiseled features, the intensity in his eyes, and the way his dark hair falls across his forehead. He”s undeniably handsome. In fact, he”s hot AF, but it”s the glimpse of his spirit that sets my heart racing.

I need to meet Brody in person to determine whether what I”m feeling is merely adrenaline and in-game chemistry or something more.

”Rules were made to be broken,” I whisper to myself, testing how the rebellious phrase feels on my tongue.

The logical part of my brain, the one that”s been trained to troubleshoot and problem-solve, kicks in, forming a plan. It”s time to turn this fantasy into reality, to find out who Brody really is. Because if I don”t, I”ll always wonder what if—and that”s a game I”ll never win.