Chapter 3
Sunlight shining on my face woke me the next morning.
I grabbed for the extra pillow, the one meant for someone who was no longer there, but just as I used it to cover my eyes to get more sleep, my heart hammered with anticipation.
Today was the day. The console waited for me under the TV; it felt like Christmas morning.
I got out of bed but paused for a moment, suddenly uncertain.
Am I being childish for getting so excited over a game?
I could practically hear Yasmin’s voice: This is exactly what I'm talking about. You need to get out more. Meet people. Live a little.
Maybe she had a point. Maybe I should box the thing back up, get a refund, and spend the money on something productive like therapy. Or at the very least, wine-and-paint classes where I could meet other single women who also pretend they’re all thriving.
Thriving. Right. Like I'd been thriving in my marriage?
Life with my ex-husband hadn't been all bad. We’d had some great times, and I certainly didn’t regret having my kids.
But it had become apparent a few years into the marriage that we were not compatible.
He’d wanted a wife who could do it all: keep the house spotless, take care of the kids, and have dinner ready when he got home, all while going out on the town with him every night.
He must have thought I didn’t need to sleep.
I knew every relationship wasn’t like that, but I just wasn’t willing to risk it. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time.
So what if I wanted to try something different? So what if I wanted to do what made ME happy? If it excited me, then what did it matter if it wasn’t what other grown women were into?
By 9am I was heading downstairs and passing through the living room.
The console was still there, in the cubby under the TV where I left it.
I ran my fingers over the smooth surface, marveling once again at the softness.
It warmed under my touch, and I wondered what kind of technology allowed it to do that.
“I’ll be with you after I’ve become a real human again.” I laughed and went to the kitchen.
I microwaved a frozen sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit and made a cup of coffee.
I made myself sit at the kitchen table to eat instead of rushing straight to the game, scrolling through social media on my phone while I devoured my food.
I typed ‘The Lux-1 System’ into every search bar I could think of, but nothing came up.
The company must be keeping it secret until they get feedback.
After eating, I couldn’t wait any longer; I put my dishes in the sink to wash later and strode to the living room and straight to the console.
I turned everything on and plopped myself on the couch.
The console hummed, and the TV flared to life with a ring of light, seeming to breathe, just like it had yesterday.
A list of pre-loaded games appeared, and I took my time scrolling through them, reading each title. There were several that looked fun: Turbo Drift, Bongo Blitz, Dread House, Echo Isles.
One game in particular caught my eye: LifeScape. Its icon was a modern house with two tiny people standing in front holding hands. The tagline read, ‘Create your world, live your choices.’
It reminded me of a roleplaying game I was obsessed with years ago, the one where you cook, clean, and try not to burn the house down. I had loved to watch the characters carry out the lives I designed for them, living vicariously through each one.
I clicked on the game and sat back to get comfortable. I rested the controller on my lap so I didn’t have to hold my hands up the whole time like some kind of gaming gremlin.
A quaint neighborhood appeared on screen.
A peaceful street lined with nearly identical houses and tiny people going about their day: working in gardens, walking down the sidewalk, or driving to work.
The graphics were surprisingly lifelike; I thought for a moment that it was shot live.
It almost looked like a movie. Only the smallest details gave it away as digitally rendered.
A character creation screen opened, with sliders for changing things like the character's hair color, outfit, and facial features. I spent far too long adjusting the details: the shape of her nose, the color of her eyes, the width of her cheeks, the style of her hair.
When I got to the body portion of the creation screen, I raised an eyebrow.
There were the usual prompts for body type...
thin, athletic, curvy... I chose curvy, of course.
But there was also a section for other anatomical parts not usually found in games.
I could select her breast size, nipple color and shape, and even how much pubic hair she had.
All with that same lifelike quality, making it hard to tell it was digital.
Games these days are certainly different than the ones when I was younger.
I named her Elise, my middle name.
By default, Elise started out as a housewife.
I began with doing her morning routine: making lunches and sending the kids off to school.
After that, I had to do things like folding the laundry and cleaning the bathrooms. Tending to the garden was my favorite task; I had fun planting seeds and watching vegetables grow, taking armfuls of them inside, then chopping and sautéing away until Elise had made a meal out of the homegrown ingredients.
Hours into playing, I shifted on the couch, and my back screamed at me.
The motion made me realize I needed to pee.
After pausing the game, I padded to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, still in my nightgown, and laughed.
I had done nothing all day, absolutely nothing. And it felt amazing.
Dishes and laundry could wait until tomorrow. Today I was having fun. I took care of my most pressing need, grabbed a snack from the kitchen, and made my way back to the game.
At the end of the day Elise’s husband came home from work, kicked his boots off in the middle of the floor, and kissed her on the cheek. He headed to the bathroom, where he left a yellow stain by the toilet and a wet hand towel in the sink, then he sat on the couch to watch TV.
The game wanted me to clean up after him.
It wanted me to put away the boots, pick up the towel, and clean up the piss before I could serve dinner.
Before it would let me sit Elise down and see if the food I had spent the last hour planting, harvesting, and cooking was even any good. It was infuriating.
My hand tightened on the controller. I had lived this life. This had been my marriage. Me working hard to keep the cogs turning. Him checked out, waiting for me to bring him his dinner.
I wasn't going to do it again. Especially not in a video game; something that should be fun.
I zoomed out on the map and leaned closer. “Let’s shake things up a bit.”
I found the courthouse and filed for divorce, enrolled Elise in night classes for bartending, and spent a few minutes going through a tutorial on how to put some drinks together. Then I sent out applications to any local clubs looking to hire a bartender.
While waiting to be hired, I wrote the drink recipes down because they all sounded delicious. I had no doubt that Yasmin and I would have some fun trying them all the next time she came over.
When I looked back at the screen, a notification popped up: Elise had been hired at a bar downtown. The game prompted me to change her outfit. I swapped her t-shirt, jeans, and apron for a black low-cut blouse, pencil skirt, and sexy high heels.
At the last minute, I hesitated over her hairstyle. The safe brown ponytail that matched my own hair stared back at me. I scrolled past it and landed on a curly, asymmetrical bob with a bright purple streak running through it.
On screen, Elise moved differently. She was sexy, confident, and alive. Her hips swayed as she walked, and her heels clacked against the pavement as she strutted through neon-lit streets instead of suburban sidewalks.
A soft vibration rippled through the controller in my lap, making me shiver. It was a low vibration that somehow didn't feel mechanical; it was gentle, like a purr, as if it were pleased with my choices.
This thing felt like more than just a game. It was as if it knew what I wanted: to escape, to explore, to experiment without judgment; and it was trying to give it to me.