Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Ginger
My character—a tall, blonde, curvy bombshell—finds Grak making a fire in the great hall of the Christmas castle. His character wears a beautiful formal suit of green with gold brocade.
“Grak, why are you so dressed up?” I type through the messaging feature.
“Today’s our wedding day, remember?” Grak types back.
I totally forgot. All the stress of today, and I forgot to look forward to the fact that our characters are going to get married in the game tonight.
“That’s right!” I type. “I’m switching to voice chat!”
I send my character to the nearest wardrobe and pick the ivory silk dress with the red piping and matching jacket. The fun thing about this game is that I can get super detailed with my designs.
I meet Grak in a pavilion behind the castle, decorated with colorful silks that sway in the breeze.
Light fairies hover around and fly to and fro.
It looks like a fairy tale. Grak has decided to surprise me with an array of frozen sculptures done by elves, glittering ice pillars, and frosted floral arrangements.
“It’s beautiful, Grak. I almost wish we had someone real to share this moment with us.”
His character nods, and I look in the direction he indicates. Standing behind me on the screen is an array of a dozen or more woodland creatures waiting patiently for the ceremony to begin.
I’m blown away at the fauns, squirrels, foxes, and birds watching us.
“Grak. Did you do all this yourself? You didn’t have to. The weddings in the game take like thirty seconds.”
“I wanted our day to be special,” he says over the headphones. And I melt a little.
“You invited the skunks?” I laugh, noticing the little balls of black and white fur among the audience.
“Shall I send them away?” Grak asks.
“No. The skunks can stay.”
The next thing I know, Grak tells me to take a look inside my companion white squirrel’s inventory.
“What the…” I mutter, but do as he says. When I open my little companion’s backpack, there I find one item—a bouquet of red and white roses.
“What the heck?”
“If you don’t like it…”
“Are you kidding me? I love it!”
“Good,” he says.
See what I mean? As ridiculous as it seems, I’m falling for an orc.
Well, not a real orc. A man behind an orc character. Sometimes it occurs to me that Grak might not be a man at all. Would I still have these feelings? I don’t know. It’s not a switch I can turn off, now that I know so much about him.
I watch our characters exchange vows on the screen, followed by a chorus of cheers from half a dozen chipmunks and rabbits. Some gnome and halfling characters have shown up, too.
“Before we kiss, I have a few words to say,” Grak says.
Oh no. Oh dear. Am I really going to let him do this?
I close my eyes and get lost in the sound of his deep, soothing voice.
“Ginger468, we orcs are lonely people where I come from. Outwardly, we are grateful to work as protectors, guardians, and laborers in Santa’s village. But I’ve always wanted something more.”
Okay, so he’s perpetuated the whole mythology he’s created around his game character.
Apparently, he’s an orc who works as a laborer at the North Pole and hasn’t been treated well.
He enjoys working with his hands, but desperately wants to do so to take care of a family, not because it’s demanded of him.
“Well, I have news. After tonight, I won’t be in the game anymore.”
“Wait. What?” I say. “Why?”
He says, “I’m leaving all this behind for good, to spend Christmas how I please. With a sturdy woman warming my bed. That is my wish. That is my wish. What is your wish?”
Honestly, I’m still reeling from the sturdy woman comment. How would he know I’m sturdy? And why does it sound kind of hot coming from him?
What do I wish? He’s poured his heart out to me, in character, that is. I might as well get it out of my system so I can stop thinking about him.
“I wish for us to live a long and happy life together, Grak. But I will miss seeing you in the game.” And furthermore, I don’t want this poor person to live in a delusion that we’re going to be together in real life, either, but one step at a time.
“It’s settled then,” he says. “I will come to you tonight.”
My gosh, he sounds sincere. He should pursue acting instead of this North Pole gig, or whatever he does for a living in real life.
“I should warn you, it kind of feels like the North Pole here sometimes,” I joke with him. Living in Upstate New York is no picnic in the winter.
See that? He’s got me buying this fantasy again.
An elf cleric declares us married after a sweet hand-fasting ceremony, and then I watch as our characters kiss.
I could be crazy, but right at that moment, I feel something brush my lips.
I gasp.
Grak’s character pulls away from mine, and he says, “Is something wrong, my wife?”
I squeeze my legs together at those words. His wife? This isn’t real, Ginger. It’s an orc in a game. Get a grip.
I’m gentle with him because he has been my best friend—my only friend—for many months now.
“It’s weird,” I say. “I think my basement apartment is haunted because I felt something when you kissed me.”
“Soon you will feel more than a ghost of a kiss. I will be warming you with my entire body.”
“Oh,” I breathe, imagining what it would be like to have a giant green monster in my bed. He’d probably break the boxspring, if he were real.
“Did I say something wrong? Is that unfamiliar to you?”
For reasons I can’t explain, my eyes sting with tears. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by anyone.
“You didn’t say anything wrong,” I assure him. “I think that would be nice.”
He hums in satisfaction, and I’m reeling.
He continues, “Then I feel comfortable telling you that I also wish to take care of you. I wish to make all your worries go away. I wish to hold your hands and walk in your woods together. I wish to destroy every obstacle standing in your way. I want to use the ancient magics to heal the rifts in your family, and I want you to use me as you see fit.”
“Oh, Grak. I don’t want to use you.”
He doesn’t seem to hear this. He goes on, “And then I wish to share your bed and warm you from the inside out. I wish to please you with my tongue and feel your heat surround me.”
Is it getting hot in here? I’m not gonna lie, we’ve definitely, uh, had sexy talks over the mics with each other, stopping just short of anything that will get us banned from the game. Hopefully, the mention of pleasing me with his tongue doesn’t pull the plug.
“Grak,” I say, my voice shaking, “I want that too, but, um…”
“Pleasing a human is not what I’m used to, but I wish that you would let me try. I require little sustenance other than beer once a day, and we orcs are known for our stamina in the fields. This will no doubt translate to our marriage bed.”
Marriage bed?
I should hate that phrase. I’ve dumped guys for milder reasons.
But…oh god. When Grak says it? My best friend? My nipples really shouldn’t be this hard while fantasizing in a game.
This is too much. I’m legit over here wanting to have sex with a graphic in a video game. With a person who refuses to break character and speak like a human.
Fuck my life.
This is too much. I have to end this. I don’t want to, but I have to, for my own sanity. For now, I’ll just log off and say I’m tired.
“Um, Grak? I need to go.”
“Ginger,” he says. “Wait.”
I have to stop torturing myself like this. I have to stop letting him torture me.
The longer I let this go on, the more depressing real life is going to be.
“I have to log off, Grak.”
“But there’s more,” he says.
No. I can’t take this anymore. It isn’t fair to me. He’s fucking with me. I have to believe that.
“Grak, I’m sorry,” I say. “The wedding was perfect. But I’m not well, and I need to go.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, I quickly log out of the game. I chuck my headset so hard that it misses the stand and lands under my desk.
I abandon my mug of instant cider, shut off the lights, and snuggle down under the blanket.
I don’t understand these feelings I’m having, but I know there’s no way to explore things with Grak any deeper unless I know who he is. Like, really know him. His first and last name, for one thing. And he needs to drop the character.
I can’t deal with any of this. And so, instead of going to bed and being silent with my own thoughts, I cover myself with blankets and stay in my gaming chair and turn on the movie Die Hard, and let the drunken screeching lull me to sleep.