19. Further Pain
Further Pain
Isaak
He hadn’t been at Sacha’s since they’d fallen out, each promising not go back to that other world.
It was a stone’s throw from Shoreditch, where Elodie lived and did business.
But the memories of his friend, what they went through, the days gone by without sunlight other than the light of the Tapeworld, had all kept him from making the short walk to Sacha’s place for the last six months.
It hurt him now, to be there with him, thinking about the lost time, and all their fights leading up to it.
Sacha led them to the same room where they’d taped in back then. Two couches and a chair, all in white faux-leather. No cables in sight.
“You guys set yourselves up. I’ve got a feed up there.” He pointed at cameras on the ceiling. “I’ll keep an eye on what your bodies get up to IRL.”
He left them to it. Shortly after he disappeared, the clanging of metal resumed from the room next door.
“He really hates your guts, eh?” Dylan said quietly. “But he seems like a good guy. What really happened between you?”
She sat on the couch beside him. Her blue-on-blonde dyed hair shone under the room’s bright lights.
She took off her deep-green imitation wool maxicoat, revealing the white minidress underneath.
Gorgeous. But her being here, getting ready to stride tape with him… He couldn’t deny it left him uneasy.
Lost in his thoughts, both admiring and anxious, he suddenly noticed that she was waiting for an answer from him. She frowned and nodded at him, prompting a reply.
“Uh, sorry, got distracted.” He smiled apologetically, and she looked amused but nonplussed.
“When I was fired, Sacha stopped playing for the team as well. I never really understood why. He told me he felt it was just his time to stop. We were damn good together. Getting him up to speed, training him for five years. Don’t get me wrong, the whole team was fantastic, but seeing Sacha grow in leaps and bounds…
” It was on the verge of making him emotional, thinking about how he’d thrown their relationship away.
And for what? Spending more time in the Tapeworld, working for that bloody woman, getting paid peanuts.
The rush of taping in had never faded away, but was it worth it, if it meant losing a friend?
Dylan nodded sympathetically. “It sounds like he was so used to training with you, he couldn’t imagine himself playing with another captain.”
She was most likely right. Goddess, it twists my gut.
His knee injury meant that Sacha stopped believing in the sport and got embroiled into the Tapeworld with him.
I couldn’t stop running in that game. I ran until my body gave up.
He couldn’t change the past, but he could try to fix his and Sacha’s futures.
He stared at the floor, not sure how to say any of that.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.” Dylan put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
“How do you know?” He raised his voice. “I played that game the best I could and it still wasn’t good enough.” He slid his shoulder out from beneath her hand.
She stared at him, eyes wide.
“And then when Astrid got me into the Tapeworld, after a few strides, she asked if I knew anyone else.” He hunched his shoulders and sat with his hands on his knees. “It is my fault. He would have returned to ReSports if I didn’t bring him in.”
Dylan moved to force him to look into her eyes. “Isaak, he’s a grown man. It was his choice! Just like it’s my choice to be here with you now. Let me help you.”
Her voice softened his insides. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry.”
“It’s okay.” Dylan grinned. “I’m used to much worse at my job.”
He smiled. He appreciated the reassurance she gave him.
“You’d think I was the most popular on the team because of my skill, but half of it was Sacha’s work.
It was the social media team, with their vlogcasts, the posts done during matches to make it look like I was somehow commenting during battles, when in reality I was busy shooting down sweaty teams, completely encased in that white plastic VR gear…
All done to increase my ranking. Sacha was essential, but only the people paying attention realised it. ”
“Oh, so you were actually shit then?” Dylan grinned again.
“Hey!” He laughed. “I’d say I was the shit.” His chest stiffened with pride and embarrassment at their playfulness.
She crossed her arms. “Okay, Mr The Shit.”
They both laughed now. It was great, feeling at ease with her.
He didn’t know why she was so adamant about helping him and lifting his mood, but he appreciated it.
He longed to be with her, as more than friends, but that was the word she’d used to describe their…
relationship… to Sacha. Footsteps came from the corridor.
Sacha’s tool jacket was now further stained with more black spots, oil of some sort.
Isaak rubbed his knee, as if in anticipation of further pain, but knowing full well he wouldn’t feel any pain in the Tapeworld. It was the instinct that came from feeling a twinge every time he simply got up.
“You guys set up good?”
“Yep, all good here!” Dylan seemed excited to be going in again.
Isaak realised he was about to dive into the Tapeworld with her once more, only this time she was right there lying beside him. It spiked his anxiety and made him take a couple of deep breaths.
“Isaak, can I see you in the other room for a minute?” Sacha asked, in a way that made clear it wasn’t really optional.
Isaak exchanged glances with Dylan, trying to impart to her he had no idea what Sacha wanted. “I’ll be right back.”
“Er… sure. I’ll just be here,” she said, her voice drawing into herself.
She’ll be fine.
In the other room, Sacha spoke first. “What is all this? You coming in here with the first girl that batted her eyelashes at you? And she already knows about the tape? After months of not replying to my messages.”
“Do you want the truth?” Isaak asked, his anxiety tensing him up.
Sacha nodded, his eyes narrowed, arms folded as he rested back against a counter full of tools and paraphernalia.
“You’re right. She is the first girl that has even spoken to me for a year.
” Isaak whisper-shouted, his voice quiet but strained.
“But she gets me.” The words came out easy.
He looked in Dylan’s direction, hoping she couldn’t hear him.
“I… I like her,” he dared to say, chest puffed, hands on his waist, nervous sweat gathering in his palms.
Sacha stared back at him with a serious face.
“So what are you going to do about it? Why is she already involved in the tape? She seems kind and protective of you.” His German accent clipped his words, making him sound more curt than he really was.
His tone was more brotherly than fatherly, less reprimanding and more advisory.
“She is. We get on well. I didn’t want it to just be another fling. I was trying to impress her…” he confessed. He rolled his head, feelings of shame and guilt washing over him.
“Awfully brash of you.” Sacha continued to look at him, appraising the situation. “Okay. Your heart’s in the right place, I think.”
The tension in Isaak’s chest loosened and he breathed a sigh of relief. He went for a hug, wanting to put out the hatred and pain there had been between them.
Sacha raised his hand to stop him. “I’m going to need a bit more time, and a bit more from you.”
Isaak swallowed dryly. Sacha wasn’t ready yet. It was okay. He’d work on it. Talk to him again. He realised how much he missed his star pupil, his teammate. His friend.
He nodded in agreement with Sacha’s terms.
Dylan was playing with her phone when they returned. “What were you two up to out there? Not deciding who gets to keep my kidneys, right?”
Sacha burst out laughing, prodding Isaak with an elbow. “She’s funny! Oh, no, nothing like that.”
“Good,” she said, serious as hell. “I kinda want to keep them both.”
Both Isaak and Sacha chuckled. Isaak sat back down on his couch.
Sacha took out two rolls of tape, one matte black, one pink. “Daddy’s got your order!” The word “daddy” was already out of order, but in Sacha’s accent it sounded even funnier.
Isaak gestured for the black roll.
Sacha tossed the pink one to him instead, and he caught it with a baseball player’s grasp and a sneer. He’d take it gladly.
Dylan scrambled to grab the other roll Sacha had tossed her way, and she almost let it fall, but held it tight.
Sacha made his way out of the room again. “See you soon.”
As he left, Dylan and Isaak locked eyes. He felt a tug in his chest. The feeling led to a dry swallow. He lay down on his couch, while Dylan lay on hers, a torn piece of black tape already in her hand. She nodded at him, a cute smile on her lips.
In his mind was only the phrase “Don’t fuck it up”, repeating like a mantra. He meant to hold on to her.
She put the tape to her temple. She let out a moan and her body seized up, arms and legs stretched out, as her mind travelled to the Tapeworld.
He watched as the tension in her limbs gave way and her body settled into an idle routine, hands crossed over her chest like a vampire sleeping hidden from the sun.
He stuck the pink tape to the side of his head.
A cathode ray madness pushed through his eyes.
Sparkling colours and swirling shapes formed and dissolved around him.
The holographic tunnel leading into the Tapeworld welcomed him with palpable eagerness.
For a moment, Isaak thought he sensed an almost eerie presence there.
Like someone or something was watching him.
But before he could formulate a complete thought, or file away the feeling for later examination, the idea was gone in a flash, and no memory of it remained in his pulpy, soft, gelatine brain.