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The game was… unexpected.
It’s not like Pick had gone out and bought something so sappy! It wasn’t his. Well, he did own it now. But he didn’t want it. All he wanted was a used PlayStation 4 he found on the student posting page. Porsche got him addicted to The Last of Us and he just wanted to play through it on his own without buying at full price.
But when he finally untangled himself from the wires behind his TV and turned on the console, he saw that there was already a disk in the machine. A freebie maybe? Some game the seller didn’t need anymore since he was ousting the whole console?
The thumbnail was just a black square with “BMVD” written across it in big white letters. He’d never heard of it before, but a free game was a free game. He selected the icon and went to grab some snacks while it loaded.
When he returned to the couch, the chip he was about to eat paused halfway between the bowl and his mouth.
There on the screen, in sparkling pink letters, were the words “Be My Valentine!”.
Was this some sort of joke? There was no way some stranger had given him the disk on purpose, so it probably wasn’t intended for him. Maybe someone had given the original owner the disk to ask him out and he’d forgotten about it. Should Pick try to return it?
A cloying song started to stream out of his TV speakers as the screen slowly faded to an options menu.
So it wasn’t some sort of high-effort pick-up line. It was an actual game. Pick decided not to judge it by the introduction and give it a try. The worst that could happen was that he didn’t like it and never played it again. Best case, he got a good freebie.
He selected “start a new game” and the music crescendoed to the point he turned down the volume. The guy he bought the PS4 from didn’t seem like the type to like this sort of game. Pick assumed there would be some sort of twist along the way.
The first page was customizing the character he played as. “Fah” was her name. The options were all various takes on the classic university shirt and skirt combo. He hit the randomize button so he could get to the real gameplay.
15 minutes of introductory prompts later, and Pick still wasn’t sure what the point of the game was. Fah had woken up in a flat shared with her brother, gone to class, and was just sitting in class thinking about how nervous she was to start university.
The scenes were all static, just the backdrop of wherever Fah was and her thought bubbles there to click through on screen. It was… really boring. Pick was only willing to give it another five minutes before he gave up.
Finally, some decision prompts appeared.
Choice 1: Walk home.
Choice 2: Pick up food in the canteen.
Choice 3: Talk to classmates.
The first two options sounded far too much like more boring screens of daily life, so Pick quickly selected the third one, hoping to find whatever made anyone want to buy this game.
You turn towards the boy sitting next to you. “Hello my name is Fah, are you a first year too?”
Was he finally going to get another character? One with substance, unlike Fah’s useless brother?
The screen sparkled and music swelled as a short boy appeared onscreen. He was drawn with big eyes and pink lips. He had a crossbody bag rather than a backpack. Pick had to admit whoever did the art had put in the effort. There were little details that brought this new character to life. His bag was old and the material was fraying at the edges. There was a little keychain on one side.
”Hi Fah, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Rome, I’m also a first year.”
A name marker appeared above his head, spelling his name in golden letters with grand serifs. In the corner of the screen, an award banner announced that he had successfully collected his first points. What was that supposed to mean?
Another speech box appeared by Rome along with new choices.
“It’s nice to know someone in class. Let’s be friends!”
Choice 1: Say yes!
Choice 2: Walk away.
Well it seemed rude to just leave. Another banner appeared as Pick selected Choice 1.
Rome’s BMV Points 5
This game really didn’t make sense. Why use abbreviations without explaining them? Why waste so much time on Fah’s morning routine without caring to explain the points system at all?
He sighed and focused back on the screen. Rome was now smiling brightly, holding out a hand.
“I can’t wait to get to know you more. Let’s walk home together!”
Pick stared at the screen unblinking. Whoever did the art was really making up for the shitty storytelling because they had somehow created the cutest video game character Pick had ever seen.
His thoughts screeched to a halt.
It wasn’t weird to think this Rome character was cute. He was just drawn like that. The artist was trying to elicit a certain response from their audience and it was working. That was all. Any sane person would find the character cute.
The screen faded out and faded back to Rome and Fah outside her place. They said their goodbyes and just before the image of Rome slid offscreen, one last dialogue box appeared.
“I can’t wait to see you again. I hope it’s soon.”
Pick snorted. There probably wasn’t a twist in the game at all. It was some cheesy slice of life game. That was enough, he was going to sleep.
He reached to turn off the console, but paused. He quickly saved his BMVD progress before shutting off the PS4.
***
The next day at university was absolute shit.
He’d somehow missed a whole assignment and had to make it up before he left, and it rained his whole walk home. Of course, because the world is a cruel awful place, Pick had also forgotten his umbrella.
He stepped inside his house drenched and trailing droplets of water all over his floor. The last thing he wanted to do was think about university, so he changed into some dry clothes and flopped down on the couch. It was time to finally buy The Last of Us and let his brain go on autopilot.
While the console started up he scrolled aimlessly on his phone until the unbearable music of BMVD filled the room.
Pick really, really didn’t have the energy for this.
If the stupid game didn’t get off his screen in the next ten seconds he would lose it. He grabbed for the controller and ended up too forceful, flinging off the couch. The controller smacked the edge of his coffee table and, because the universe hated him, hit directly on the selection tool.
The screen dissolved to show a morning on the university campus.
You’ve just arrived for class!
Choice 1: Go right to classroom
Choice 2: Look around
Pick glared at his tv, and stomped over to scoop up the fallen controller. He managed to once again accidentally hit a button. Choice 2, apparently. The background was now a little courtyard.
You come across a familiar face!
Pick properly held the controller, ready to exit to the home menu.
Then a swirl of music accompanied Rome’s avatar appearing in the courtyard. Pick’s hand stalled. A dialogue box appeared.
”Oh it’s you! I thought I was the only person that knew about this place. I like to come here when my classes are too stressful. Would you like to join me?”
Choice 1: Say yes!
Choice 2: Tell him you prefer your own company to his
Pick stared at the answers he could choose from for a few seconds. He wanted a way to forget about his shitty day… he could just take it out on some video game character since it was right in front of him.
Rome’s BMV points -10
Rome’s face fell. His eyes got all shiny and teary as an apology appeared on screen. Pick… felt bad. Why the fuck did he feel bad for a fictional character? This was supposed to be a cathartic moment, not some guilt trip. He was pissed.
Pick read over the next few options and continued to select the meanest one. Rome just looked worse and worse as his BMV points reached -80. It didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, he felt so much worse. It’s like he was kicking a puppy or something. He felt like leaving Rome like this was too cruel.
He would play through a few more scenarios to fix it, just until Rome’s points were back at 0.
The next morning, Rome’s BMV points were up to 120 and Pick had dark circles under his eyes.
He’d met some of the other characters in the game. His least favorite was some guy named Din. He kept showing up in scenes with Rome and was getting in the way of making up all the negative points. None of the characters were even remotely interesting to him besides Rome anyway.
Even after hours of gameplay, he still didn’t know the objective of the game. Was it really some slice of life thing? It seemed like way too simple of a concept. What even were BMV points? Pick had been thinking of what it could stand for all morning, but nothing made sense. He just couldn’t get the game out of his head.
The characters were so developed that they seemed like real people. Pick had gone through three pages of internet search results and hadn’t found any information about the game or who created it.
It all became clear that weekend.
Congratulations!!! Rome’s BMV points have moved him up to level two! You now have your first potential Valentine!
Choice 1: Ask him out
Choice 2: Write him an anonymous letter
It was a fucking dating sim.
Pick had spent every night playing a dating sim from the perspective of a girl and he had managed to seduce some guy. What the fuck.
What the fuck?!?!
It all clicked. BMV stood for Be My Valentine. It was so fucking obvious. All the characters were love interests for Fah and that’s why they kept popping up out of nowhere and getting all sad when he avoided them. This was insane. If he had known he wouldn’t have even tried playing it! He had to delete his progress. He had to burn the disk, hell he had to destroy the whole console.
Instead he quickly shut down the game and turned off the TV. That was enough BMV for a lifetime. If he saw those sparkly pink letters one more time he’d snap. He ejected the disk and set it on top of the console to dispose of in the morning. What a fucking joke.
***
Rome pouted at him. “Why are you avoiding me? Don’t you want to spend time with me? You worked so hard to get to know me.”
Pick just stared at him, unimpressed.
Rome took a step forward, “I could convince you to come back.”
“How?”
Rome moved forward slowly, reaching out to wrap his arms around Pick’s shoulders, leaning up so their faces were close. Then the gap between them was gone and Rome was kissing him. Somehow Pick didn’t feel shock or surprise. He felt himself backed up against the nearest wall-- was there even a wall there before?
Rome pulled away. His hair was messy. Pick saw his hands there, having messed up the soft locks as they kissed. Rome looked utterly debauched, too much so for just kissing.
“Will you come back?”
Pick was silent, staring at Rome’s red cheeks and swollen lips.
“Won’t you come back, Fah?”
Pick jolted awake.
He frantically looked around and only started to calm down when he was sure that this was his real house and not some weird dream world.
Why the hell was Rome kissing him in his dreams?
Or… he was kissing Fah. Pick was just playing as Fah like he did in BMV. Right. That made sense. He just spent way too much time on that stupid game that his brain was having some sort of weird reaction to no longer playing it. That was a thing right? Yeah.
He was just confused after playing as Fah for so long. He pulled himself together and went to class. He did a little homework in the evening, then settled in his bed to sleep. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.
Everything was going well until he heard it.
“Don’t you miss Rome?”
Pick shot upright in bed again, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes.
Okay. So maybe it wasn’t just that playing the game too much confused him. It had to be something about completing the game. His brain just wanted to finish what it started. That was fine. He’d just have to speed run the game over the next few days, and his mind would let it go.
He went down to the TV and got a head start.
Choice 1: Ask him out
Choice 2: Write him an anonymous letter
Why were those the only options! Why couldn’t he just let Rome down easy and end the game there?! He was going to find out who made this awful game and list off all his complaints immediately. This was unjust!
He picked choice 2.
The game continued.
***
“Hey Pick come here!” Porsche shouted from the door. Pick grunted and placed Tuna, a tiny kitten the club was fostering, back in the playpen before making his way over.
It was the third week of classes, which meant the freshmen were all settled in their new university life and it was time for Freshy Week. This meant three times the usual work for his and Porsche’s club as they prepared to welcome new members.
Pick had spent half the night on BMV and the other half waking up from recurring dreams of Rome kissing him-- no, Fah. Rome was kissing Fah.
Porsche was blocking the view of whoever was at the door.
“Do you remember that I mentioned our club has two new members joining?”
Pick nodded ready to pretend he was more fond of strangers for Porsche’s sake, but when Porsche moved to the side, Pick felt his stomach drop.
“So this is Emma and her friend—”
“Rome.” Pick finished, the word falling from his mouth before his brain caught up. He didn’t even spare a glance at Emma as he looked at the boy next to her. The kid was a spitting image of Rome from Be My Valentine!
His cute face and pristine uniform. The crossbody bag worn at the edges from years of use with the little hamster keychain dangling off the handle. Every aspect was the same. Except Rome was a fictional character in an unbearable dating sim and this was just some freshman Porsche coerced into their club. And he really just called him Rome out loud. Pick internally smacked himself back to the present.
“Wait, did I already tell you their names?” Porsche laughed, “Anyways this is Pick. He and I are co-presidents, so if you need anything you can come to either of us…”
Pick didn’t catch another word because apparently not only was the boy the spitting image of Rome, but they shared the same name. It was only when Rome’s eyes shyly met his that he realized he’d been staring non-stop since catching sight of him. He quickly looked away, going for some aloof posture, and walked off toward Tuna’s playpen.
He crouched down and scooped up the kitten, sat crossed-legged with her in his lap, and then took a deep breath.
What. The. Fuck.
Okay. Pick had to think rationally. He was either experiencing a psychotic break and should seek help or there was some perfectly fine, normal, not-at-all-strange explanation for everything. Like maybe this kid was just a really big fan of Be My Valentine! and he liked to cosplay as his favorite character. That was fine. That was normal.
It was probably just a one-time fluke. Maybe there was some event nearby so that’s why he was dressed like Rome… but that didn’t explain the name. Maybe Rome was his favorite character because they shared the same name. And appearance.
Rome was a 2D animation that didn’t really have much in the way of movement besides some rare full animation in the more important sequences. He was not real. It was most likely that Pick’s brain had started to rot with all the late-night gaming sessions and he was just assigning similarities where there really weren’t any. He just needed to calm down.
“Hey, are you even listening?”
Pick flinched at the sudden voice by his ear. He glared as Porsche crouched down next to him.
“I called your name like three times. Put Tuna back for a second and go show our new members to the storage room. I want them to be comfortable getting toys and food for the animals we foster here.”
“Why can’t you do it,” Pick frowned. He scratched Tuna’s ears and she purred. Pick could feel the vibrations on his leg. It was grounding and he didn’t want to put her back until all the shock wore off.
“There are other freshmen visiting today, and no offense, but you are not going to be the one to convince them to stay. If anything you’ll scare away all the new people before they even come in.”
That was a fair point.
He took a moment longer with Tuna, then gently transferred her to Porsche’s waiting arms. This was fine. He was just taking his nongs to learn about the club. So what if one of them looked eerily familiar? That didn’t mean anything at all.
Having reasoned himself into a sane corner, Pick called for Emma and Rome and set out towards the supply room without waiting for them to catch up. He heard the sound of rushed steps behind him as he rounded a few corners and stopped in front of a door.
“Why do you walk so fast?” Emma looked unamused as she fixed some of her hair that came out of place.
“Training,” Pick said deadpan as he opened the door and grabbed a bag of treats to hand off to her. “You never know when a foster animal is going to need a fast emergency cleanup because they were never litter-trained before we got them.”
Emma didn’t seem impressed. She snatched the treats and started back to the club room on her own.
“What about me, phi?”
Pick turned his gaze back on Rome for the first time. His cheeks were a little pink from rushing after him. Pick recalled a scene when Rome chased after Fah. In the game, Rome’s cheeks looked the same way, but his clothes had been rumpled too. Probably for dramatics. He ran less than the real Rome just did and looked way more disheveled.
Completely unbidden, Pick was snapped back to the dream he’d had. Rome had looked disheveled there too.
“Phi?”
Pick grabbed the first thing on the shelf and shoved it at Rome, almost smacking him in the face, “Take that back to Porsche.”
Rome tentatively grabbed the dumpling shaped toy. He looked Pick up and down, scrutinizing but not judgemental.
“Are you okay, P’Pick? You seem…” Rome trailed off, opting to just gesture vaguely at Pick. What was that supposed to mean?
“I’m fine. Go back to the club room.”
Rome hesitated for a moment, but still ended up walking back the way they came.
Pick needed to get himself under control. There was nothing so earth shattering about the situation. He was obviously already freaking out the real Rome and that meant Porsche was going to notice and start asking questions. If Porsche ever found out about BMV, he’d never live it down. The only option was to get over it quickly. It’s not like he’d have to see Rome all that often anyway. He was just some random first year, and Pick would treat him the same as all the others. Even if there was a chance he was a magical manifestation of a video game character.
It was fine.
***
It was not fine.
Rome and Rome were too similar. Pick was still playing BMV, just trying to finish the game and let the whole thing fade from his mind, but the game was relentless. He was starting to wonder if it had an ending at all.
The choices were getting worse and worse and now when he played scenes with Rome all he could picture was the real one. He had to choose between things like “kiss him” or “buy a promise ring” and honestly Pick could not bring himself to do it. He refused to acknowledge that always choosing the least romantic option could be why the game wouldn’t end.
Meanwhile the real Rome had somehow managed to become a daily occurrence in Pick’s life.
It was just weekly club meetings at first. Then Rome and Emma needed help with photography. Then some lunches and movies and somehow whenever he agreed to do something with Porsche, it started to mean he was agreeing to do things with Rome and Emma too.
The similarities between the Romes were really starting to freak him out. They had the same catchphrases and the same little mannerisms. It only got worse when they saw each other outside of campus. One time Rome showed up to a cafe in the exact outfit BMV-Rome had worn in a cafe scene.
Worst of all, the dreams kept coming. And now real Rome had taken over. His brain had to be way too confused. Even worse than when it had been BMV-Rome. Now his mind had made some sort of connection between the Rome similarities and the need to finish the game. That was really the only explanation.
Rome was just as cute as he was in the game.
Pick finally discovered the first difference between them by accident.
Rome and Emma were waiting for him and Porsche at their usual place. Pick got there before his friend and the others were facing away as he approached.
That’s when he heard it.
Emma had said, “So how’s it going with your crush.”
Rome has lightly smacked her arm, “Better than it is for you. You won’t even admit you like Porsche.”
That hadn’t been surprising.
Rome continued, “It’s not going well for me. I think he might dislike me. It’s hard to tell. We spend so much time together but it’s like he's desperate to avoid me at the same time.”
Real Rome liked guys. That was a difference, proof that he hadn’t lost his mind and that a fictional character hadn’t magically spawned out of nowhere. In the game Rome was in love with Fah and in reality Rome liked… someone else.
Pick huffed and turned around. Suddenly he didn’t want to get lunch anymore. He felt annoyed or something like that, but he couldn’t quite place it. He sent a quick text to Porsche that he didn’t feel well and wasn’t going to lunch.
He tried to get some work done, but there was a little annoying part of his brain that just wouldn’t shut up. There was only one way to get it to stop.
The BMV music had grown on him. One horrifying occasion he found himself humming it as he made breakfast. Now he hated to admit that hearing it felt like a relief. He loaded his game to the scene he left off on, one with Rome.
Welcome back! Last time you picked up Rome’s favorite dish to share! What would you like to do now?
Choice 1: Feed him
Choice 2: Divide out two servings
Pick hovered over the second choice like he usually did, but this time he didn’t press it right away. He stared at the options for a few seconds. He selected choice 1. It’s like he was doing it without his own permission, but he didn’t even regret it.
He watched as the screen showed his hand--Fah’s hand--moving to feed Rome a spoonful of coconut soup. Rome blushed and accepted the spoonful. Pick wondered if real Rome liked Tom Kha too. He played through a few more scenes, throwing caution to the wind and choosing the riskier options.
Then he got the prompt he dreaded most again.
Choice 1: Kiss him
It didn’t mean anything. It was just a video game and the sooner he finished it, he could go back to a life without weird dreams and confusing the dating sim with reality.
He lifted a finger to press choice 1. Then the doorbell rang.
Pick was already mad at whoever was showing up at his door unannounced. He paused the game and swung open the door with a glare.
Rome was standing there, looking taken aback by the aggression. He quickly covered the discomfort with a smile, “Porsche said you weren’t feeling well, so I brought some soup from the restaurant.”
“Oh.” Pick said. He was all too aware how close the TV was with incriminating evidence paused on screen.
“Can I come in? I’ll make a bowl for you.”
Pick quickly mapped out a path to the kitchen that distinctly avoided walking anywhere near the TV then gestured for Rome to follow him. He made a random excuse to leave Rome there for a second and ran back to turn off the game. Crisis averted.
He returned to see Rome facing away, organizing toppings in two bowls of soup. Pick tried not to think of the scene he just played. How Rome had so happily been fed and how much he loved being in Pick’s--Fah’s--company.
“What kind of soup is it?”
Rome startled at the sudden voice, but smiled brightly when he turned, “Tom Kha, it’s my favorite. Porsche said you like it, so I figured it was a good choice.”
Pick hummed in agreement. Tom Kha. Things were starting to get eerie again, it made his skin crawl. There was something about being near Rome that made Pick feel anxious. It had to be the game and Rome’s mysterious video-game doppelganger.
“Where do you want to eat?” Rome grabbed one bowl in each hand. Pick took him to a small 2-person table and instantly regretted it as he realized he’d be sitting across from Rome, right in the eye-contact zone.
At lunches he always ended up sitting next to Rome. That way Rome, Emma, and Porsche could all talk to each other easily while Pick was content to mostly listen and only interject with a comment every so often. It meant that he didn’t have to look too closely at Rome and get that weird swooping feeling in his stomach.
The soup was good, really good actually. After leaving the cafe he didn’t actually eat lunch and it only took him a few minutes to scarf down the whole bowl. Rome laughed when he noticed how much he’d eaten in comparison.
“Maybe you weren’t feeling well because you hadn’t eaten yet.”
“Maybe,” Pick agreed. “So why did you come all the way here?”
“Well Emma and I were going to see if you two wanted to see a movie after we ate, but since you weren’t there I thought I’d let them spend some time together.” Rome looked at Pick for a moment, “You do know they like each other, right?”
“Oh yeah, it’s obvious. That and Porsche is pathetic and whines about it.”
Rome snorted, “Emma always denies it. They’d be hopeless without our help.”
“Aren’t you disappointed to miss the movie, though?”
Rome looked away, “Oh. Well, I actually brought a DVD over in case you wanted to watch something.”
“Oh?” Pick didn’t expect that.
“If you’re busy I can just go! I thought that if you were really sick it would be something to pass the time.”
Pick got up from the table, “Let’s watch it then.”
That was not what he meant to say. This was possibly the worst idea he’d had in his life, only rivaled by pressing start on BMV in the first place. He was going to have to sit on the couch with Rome, right in front of the TV with the PS4 right there. But he didn’t like Rome missing out just to bring him food.
He hadn’t been particularly nice to real Rome, and that was all because of the stupid game. It’s not like he wanted to be mean. All the weird feelings and dreams came back to him at the sight of Rome and he just didn’t want to deal with any of it. Yet he’d never really considered what Rome thought of him.
If he was willing to bring soup, to miss out on a movie and sit around at Pick’s place… he was just as kind as BMV Rome. No, kinder. Everything that Pick knew about the fictional version was amplified bigger and better in reality.
The movie wasn’t something Pick would’ve chosen. It was some indie horror thing that involved too many twists for him to keep track of. Rome seemed to be enjoying it. He kept squirming around on the couch during intense scenes and getting excited when he guessed something correctly.
Really why did Pick even enjoy BMV? Why was the fictional character the one he paid attention to? Rome, the real Rome, was so much more.
He was staring. Pick couldn’t stop himself. Rome must’ve felt his gaze and looked over.
“Are you feeling okay? Do you want me to pause the movie?” Rome scooted closer and started to reach out a hand to feel Pick’s forehead.
Pick caught his hand, holding it lightly. Rome’s eyes were wide and searching. He leaned a little closer.
“P’Pick, what are you doing?” It was almost a whisper, almost unintelligible next to the overdone movie soundtrack.
Choice 1…
Pick felt himself move a little, stopping only inches from Rome’s face and closed his eyes.
...Kiss him
It was Rome that closed the distance, pressing his lips gently against Pick’s.
A character screamed in the movie and Pick’s eyes shot open. He shoved himself off the couch.
“What… you…” Pick backed away a few steps.
Rome looked mortified, “I thought… I’m sorry. I’ll just go.”
He scrambled up to stop the movie, going to eject the DVD and in the process, mistaking the PS4 for the player.
It felt like he was watching in slow motion. Rome hit the eject button and the BMV disk slowly made its way into his hand. He stared down at the disk for a long time. Pick felt something in him crack.
“P’Pick, how did you get this?” Rome looked up at him from where he was kneeling. “Did you play it?”
“No!” Pick shouted and Rome flinched back. “Get out.”
Something painful flashed in Rome’s gaze and he held the disk closer to him as he made a beeline for the doorway. Pick followed on instinct, running on the same aggressive autopilot that always got him into trouble.
He watched as Rome stuffed the disk in his bag and rushed to get his shoes on.
“I’m going, you don’t have to rush me.” Rome wasn’t looking at him. His voice was shaky, and Pick wondered if he was crying.
When the door clicked shut, Pick heard the movie playing in the other room. He leaned on the closest wall and slid down. Shit.
***
He took the next day off class using the same excuse that he didn’t feel well. It didn’t really make a difference to his professor and Porsche hadn’t questioned it, so he’d be left in peace. Well, not peace.
His mind was racing. He hardly got a wink of sleep, stuck replaying the briefest touch of lips over and over again. Why had he leaned in? Was it really the game getting to him? But he’d stopped giving a shit about the game. Rome took it away and he couldn’t care less. It had only made everything difficult.
But even without it, he still couldn’t stop thinking about Rome. When had the real thing replaced the character? It was all too blurry and awful. Pick paced around his house nonstop, tugging at his hair in frustration.
Rome had kissed him. Not the other way around. If he was just thinking of Fah and BMV Rome and kissed him in a weird game induced state, that was one thing. But Rome leaned in. He remembered Emma and Rome talking in the restaurant. He remembered the sinking feeling he had when he learned Rome had a crush.
It never occurred to Pick that Rome might like him.
Maybe it was obvious. Rome made an effort to spend time with Pick. Sometimes they walked home together. Once Pick had snatched up Rome’s hand to pull him across the street and just forgotten to let go for a while. When he realized that it looked too much like a hand-holding scene from BMV he’d snatched his hand back without bothering to check Rome’s reaction.
It probably wasn’t far off from Rome’s expression after the kiss. There had been hurt and surprise, but worst of all, Pick remembered guilt. He’d been too busy to notice at the time, working hard on isolating himself as fast as possible. Why should Rome feel guilty when Pick had initiated it?
He wished it was the game. It had been so easy to throw anything he felt around Rome at BMV and call it a day. But this awful feeling was new. When he’d hurt BMV Rome’s feelings there was just a hint of guilt that faded quickly. He could just earn back the points later with the click of a button.
Reality wasn’t so simple.
Rome was a real person and Pick had yelled at him and offered no explanations before kicking him out. That meant needing real forgiveness, real effort. Pick wasn’t good at reaching out and talking about feelings. Him and Porsche got by and played banter and outside of that he wasn’t close to anyone. It felt like he’d been placed in a room and had the floor pulled out from under him.
Pick wished he could just go back and stop it from happening. Then everything would be fine. Or at least the same as it was.
But did he even want that?
Rome’s offering of soup, of a shared meal and movie, wasn’t like before. Pick was realizing just how much of an asshole he’d been the whole time, especially if Rome liked him. No one deserved such a cold shoulder.
Rome had said “I think he might dislike me” in the cafe. If he thought that before… what did he think now?
Pick had never disliked Rome. If anything he liked him too much. Pick attributed that to how attached he was to BMV, but that wasn’t it. It started that way and Pick didn’t want to act overly familiar just because some fictional character resembled Rome. Then he actually got to know him. No matter how hard he tried to ignore Rome, he couldn’t help but notice everything about him.
And the dreams. Pick had felt so ashamed when he dreamed about them kissing and he was taking it all out on Rome. He could be so nice in the game. He gave Rome gifts and spent time with him because he was too much a coward to do it in reality. The game was an excuse in more ways than one.
It was time to stop hiding behind BMV. There was a club meeting the next day, and Pick would be there.
***
The club room was missing two members. No one was mentioning it, so Pick saved it for later, when it was just him and Porsche locking up the room for the night.
“Where were Emma and Rome today?”
Porsche frowned at him, “Emma said she was busy, but I actually wanted to ask you about Rome. He told me to remove him from the club roster. This wouldn’t have anything to do with you would it?”
Pick bristled, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You haven’t been the nicest to him, but I thought you at least got along. If you did something to make him leave then it’s not just him you’ll have to answer too.”
“It’s not like it’s your business,” Pick grumbled and started to walk off, not wanting to talk to Porsche if this was the conversation.
“Hey,” Porsche caught his arm. “It is my business. Rome is my friend. So are you. If there’s something going on I want both of you happy, so you should work it out. I don’t care if you don’t want to tell me about it, but at least go apologize to Rome. Whatever you did made him quit the club, something he really enjoyed.”
“Why do you assume it was me? What if he did something?” Even Pick knew the answer to that, but the defensiveness ran deep.
Porsche just sighed, “Rome cares about you. I’m not going to say more than that. Just please try and sort this out.”
Pick didn’t bother to respond as Porsche left. He stayed standing just outside the club room, fists clenched at his sides. If he talked to Rome, it would go the same way. He’d say something worse than “get out” and it would be irreparable this time. He couldn’t do it.
A week went by.
There was no sign of Rome anywhere. He didn’t answer the simple “hi” Pick had texted and Emma’s constant glares didn’t encourage sending more.
Pick didn’t even have BMV to give him the illusion of Rome anymore. It felt like shit. He was being ignored and avoided. How the tables turn.
What would he even say if he did get a chance to talk to Rome? He wasn’t going to offer some heartfelt speech. Rome probably wouldn’t expect that of him though. For someone so new to Pick’s life, he understood it well. He didn’t prod at Pick’s boundaries, just happily took the time they got together and made the best of it.
Pick should have valued the time more. He would value it more. He had to see Rome.
***
“Emma, I told you not to come over today--”
Rome was standing at the door, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt at least two sizes too big.
“P’Pick.” Rome seemed to shrink into himself.
Pick grunted and held up a plastic bag, “I brought soup.”
That seemed to at least interest Rome. He took the bag carefully and let Pick inside.
“If Emma or Porsche told you to come apologize to me, you don’t have to. I crossed a line and I get it. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I thought you were… well it doesn’t matter. I won’t do it again.”
“I played the game,” Pick forced himself to say.
Rome looked confused before it dawned on him, “Be My Valentine?”
Pick nodded.
Rome frowned, “How did you even get it?”
“I bought a used PS4.”
Rome seemed to consider that, “One of the game development students here knew me in high school. They offered me and some others 500 baht to take a survey so they could base the characters on us. We all got the demo disks. I thought it was kind of creepy to see myself in it. And then it was weird when the options wanted me to flirt with myself. Whoever you got it from probably thought the same thing and was getting rid of it on purpose.”
He should’ve asked sooner. To think that he jumped right to ‘this game spawned a real version of a character out of nowhere’ when there was such a simple explanation. Weeks and weeks of feeling like he was losing his mind could have all been avoided.
“But P’Pick,” Rome continued, “Why did you play it?”
“It was a free game,” Pick shrugged.
“But you have to… it’s a dating sim, you know that right?”
Pick scowled. Of course he knew that! Maybe it took embarrassingly long to figure it out, but he knew!
“Why would you play a dating sim with me in it?” Rome took in Pick’s expression, “I’m not judging you I’m just really confused. I thought you were mad about the kiss and now you’re here talking about BMV.”
As much as he wanted to explain everything, Pick could only force out a few words, “I played it before we met, and then I just kept playing.”
Rome blinked at him, trying to figure out exactly what that was supposed to mean.
“So you were embarrassed? It’s a video game, I don’t care who plays it. Is that really what you came here to talk about?”
Pick just stared back at him. Was he just supposed to bring up the kiss out of nowhere?
Rome sighed, “P’Pick, if you’re not here because Porsche and Emma told you to be, I’m trying to give you a chance to say it. I’m doing my best. I know it’s hard for you. Here, I have an idea.”
Then he went over to the lightswitch and plunged the room into darkness.
“What the hell, Rome?” Pick said pawing around for the nearest surface to lean on so he didn’t accidentally stumble over something.
“Pretend I’m not here and say whatever it is you came here for.”
Pick could imagine Rome’s determined face. He was doing all this to help him. Rome was really too good.
“I played the game before I met you, and I got attached to your character. It was weird when I met you at the club.”
Rome snorted, “Oh my god, P’Pick did you think I came from the game or something?”
“What happened to pretend you’re not here?” Pick said, but there wasn’t the usual coldness in it. “I didn’t want to face the real you because being around you feels… different. So I just ignored you and went home to play BMV instead because it was you without any of the…”
Pick wasn’t sure what to call it. He hadn’t even admitted anything to himself yet, and somehow he thought he could just march up to Rome’s place with some soup and a half-baked explanation.
“Risk.” Rome finished for him, voice much softer and seemingly closer than before. “Does P’Pick like N’Rome?”
Pick closed his eyes, the darkness itself not being enough, and let out a little affirmative sound. It was out in the open now, for Rome to handle as he wished. Pick felt a few loose tears escape and lifted his arm to wipe them away.
“Is it okay if I take your hand?”
Pick held out the arm that wasn’t wet with tears instead of answering, and it bumped into something solid. Rome lifted his own hands and held Pick’s gently. It was only then that Pick realized he was trembling.
“Rome likes P’Pick too.” Rome lifted their hands to his chest, “And I know what I’m doing. We can take things slow.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. To Rome’s very real understanding. So he just tugged at their joined hands until Rome was in his arms and held on tight. He felt Rome reach around him and squeeze gently. It was so much easier when he didn’t have to face the real world, but he didn’t want to hide behind games or in the dark forever.
Pick slowly let go of Rome and felt along the wall until he found the light switch.
Rome winced at the sudden brightness, “What are you doing?”
“Just wanted to see my faen clearly.”
The sheer joy in Rome’s face made the sort of cheesy line worth it. Maybe the sparkly eyes BMV Rome sometimes got weren’t so far off from reality. He spent so long trying not to look at Rome and he finally was giving himself permission to really take him in.
“I took the game away before you could finish it, didn’t I?” Rome asked with a hint of mischief. “I’ll show you how it ends.”
“Do I want to know?” Pick grumbled.
Rome joined their hands again, “P’Pick, will you be my valentine?”
“It’s not even close to February.”
“Just say yes,” Rome kicked him lightly and Pick acquiesced.
“Yes, I’ll be your valentine.” It was just playing along, but Pick could still feel his cheeks heating up. Rome was teasing him.
“Congratulations! You just found your Valentine!” Rome shouted and let go of Pick’s hands to wave them around a bit. “And then the screen fills with hearts and sparkles.”
Pick cringed, “I can’t believe I played that. It just ends with a decorative graphic?”
“Well, then whichever character you chose and Fah kiss, but like I said we can go slow.” Rome admitted.
Well. It would be a shame not to complete the game after all that work.
Without warning Pick pulled Rome into a kiss. He didn’t really know what he was doing and Rome was short enough that it was kind of a weird posture, but it was still perfect.
When he pulled away Rome’s lips were red and his cheeks were burning, “P’Pick!”
“Just thought we should finish the game,” he shrugged, playing at nonchalance.
Doing anything more, being close in public, would take time. But they had time, and Pick would gladly give it to Rome, the real and only one, his boyfriend.