Guy was backstage in a dimly lit dinner theatre room, surrounded by costumes strung up on a rack. A stage light cut through the curtains before they were parted to leave him exposed, standing in front of his worst nightmare.
This crowd was probably most, if not all, NPCs, but still...it was a crowd. An audience. Guy looked for the one person that he was sure was real, but there was one obstacle to that: they were all wearing costumes.
A pig face stared directly into his soul from the front row.
"What the hell?" Guy's voice wavered.
He did not like this. Not at all.
None of this had been here the last time. It had only been a dark arcade room, which Guy thought was a strange setting to fuck, but didn't think much of it.
His body was frozen, cold sweat breaking out over every inch of his skin. Something hot and dangerous crawled up his chest, threatening to burst out of him in a yell.
The faces blended together in a blur as he attempted to engage his limbs. The hollow eyes followed him as Guy crept meekly off stage.
Being on stage was so abhorrent.
It was absolutely humiliating that he needed Ashley, loath as he was to admit an excellent public speaker, to compensate, and he dreaded this part of the rollout of his invention more than any aspect.
Despite practicing in the mirror and trying relaxation techniques that Mark suggested, it was something he wasn't able to get past. He tried everything to block it out of his mind.
He ran out the door with a big EXIT sign above his head, ending up back in that arcade room. Guy heaved, a flood of relief that it appeared there was no one here.
It was simply much better to be admired from afar; that was all. Guy wasn't scared.
"Back for more, are you?" a voice crooned.
Guy screamed.
"Woah, calm down, guy!"
Nine, the man he was looking for, was sitting in an arcade chair across the room. He'd perked up to look at Guy in equal concern, but then slid back down in his seat moments later.
Guy studied the other man. Nine was a few inches taller than him, his long limbs and torso reminding him of an indoor plant that stretched to meet the light.
The man was wearing black rabbit ears that blended in with his dark hair. He wore a bow tie, though his scarred, toned chest was bare, a regular Playboy bunny.
His pair of tight-fitting black pants was currently shrugged to his ankles, with sleek shoes to match. From a distance, the man appeared to be masturbating.
When Guy came closer, upon further inspection, he was indeed masturbating.
"How did you know my name?" Guy demanded.
The man arched his dark brows in confusion, mixed with the pleasured way they drew tight. Realization dawned on his handsome features.
He chuckled from deep in his chest.
"That's your name? It was just an expression on my part."
Guy sighed.
"Yeah, not the first time that's happened."
His eyes slid to the action happening between the others' legs, to what had his lip bitten, what had him flushed and sleek.
The man panted, sweat beading on his skin that glowed a pale pink in the arcade light. He pumped a black stroker up and down, what Guy initially thought was a butt plug, while his eyes roamed his shelf without much scrutiny.
"So," Nine huffed, grunted, "You have caught me in quite the mood." He let out a laugh. "Did you want to go another round?"
"I'm here to get you out of the game, Nine."
The other groaned.
"Nine? Oh, because I'm number nine in the trials."
"Yeah, that's it."
"I don't--nghh--really think you could call this a game, Guy."
Guy considered this for a moment. Video games typically had more complex objectives. While they became dangerously addictive to him, part of the fun, at least, was to do hard things for a reward.
This was much more like the rat smashing that button over and over.
This person had slipped into a mindless state of arousal far longer than Guy could ever touch, quite fortunately, even during his time as a NEET after college.
Panting filled the room, coming more desperate.
He was torn from his introspection to look down at Nine, still masturbating.
Guy gestured with a flip of his wrist.
He didn't know what to do after he stopped studying, without the structure and routine of school. That's when the gaming, which was harmless fun, turned into his whole world to cope.
Guy was terrifyingly directionless, despite his plans, uncertain where to go with it all for a time. It was the darkest point of his life, even when he had Mark to lean on.
He wondered how many people, who were in a similar situation in some way, were escaping, running away into the false safety of a virtual world.
Entrapped in comfort and pleasure, facilitated by him.
The thought clung to his skin.
Raspy, deep moans alternated with pitched-up squeaks.
He looked down at Nine again, still masturbating.
"In any case, it's time to go," Guy said stiffly.
"Almost done."
The dark spade that fit in his palm slipped slickly up and down the small shaft that Nine had managed, incredibly, to grow himself.
Guy respected those two inches because Nine worked for it, built something from the base up, unlike some people who never worked for anything.
However, while admirable, he was still being excessive at the moment.
When he was with this man last time, he thought enviously that he'd gotten a taste of what everyone else got to experience. People, like himself in that moment, made him sick.
This man didn't know that Guy was the closest thing to a living deity, yet the bitter pill was that he was never good enough for anyone.
Guy watched jealously while the other pleasured himself.
"Guy, I want nothing more than to kiss you from head to toe and make sweet love to you in the real world. You would be heaven to touch. Oh fuck, yes, yes," the horny man groaned.
The man grunted animalistically, gritting his teeth in a tense smile.
