It was Friday evening. Ville thanked whatever "force" was out there (if there was anything) that his work day flew by uneventfully. He did not need any extra stress, especially now. He had planned this night carefully. There was enough time allotted for him to recharge at home, eat, whatever, before the meeting with Vilja. He may have planned too efficiently, because now he was stuck sitting idly on the couch. This inactivity was not helping his nerves, yet he didn't feel like getting on his computer or doing anything else. He was too antsy. Instead, he chose to worsen his anxiety by musing over whether or not Vilja was a figment of his imagination. He hoped it wasn't so, but their similarities hinted otherwise. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that she was but an extension of his mind. Wow, he needed to stop thinking about this, get up, do something. He looked at the clock. It read "19:40." Screw it. It was time. He got up from the couch to get dressed. Instead of his black hoodie and jeans, Ville picked out a nice dark blue button up shirt and khaki pants, a common work "uniform" of his. He glanced at himself in the mirror, attempted to finger-comb his unruly hair, and headed out the door. Vilja and himself had agreed to meet at Tähtijärvi's titular lake. He decided to walk there as it was not far from his place. The exercise would do him good, both in the grand and small schemes of things. In the grand scheme, he needed to exercise more. In the small scheme, walking would help relieve some of his tension. Humans were wired to run or fight, to move, when stressed, after all. On the way there, he watched some jackdaws wheel playfully through the air. He watched a couple pass by on the opposite side of the street. They were holding hands and taking up most of the sidewalk. He looked at the trees and how their leaves fluttered gently in a breeze. He looked at the clouds which told of a coming light rain. He looked at anything and everything, trying his best to distract himself from his beating heart. He arrived at the lake. His mouth was dry. He wished that he had brought a water bottle. He meditated on the lake, striving to stay calm. It was moderately sized and an intriguing sight because it was shaped like a four-pointed star. Thus, "Star Lake." He watched some swans and ducks on the water. He scanned the horizon. No one else was there save a man in a striped white and blue polo shirt, briskly walking. Ville strolled further and stood a short distance from the lakefront. He sighed. He wasn't looking forward to another sleepless night, for, as Vilja and himself had discussed, it didn't matter if this meeting went well or poorly. The provocation of an in-person social interaction with someone new, and in such eccentric circumstances, would inevitably ratchet them up for hours. Suddenly, his phone buzzed. He startled and cursed quietly. He checked the notification. It was DChat. --- ENTERING ANON SPECTATOR MODE FOR DROOM "@Virus, @Virus v2.0 Direct" DATESTAMP 2023-06-02 ---BEGIN TRANSCRIPT--- Virus v2.0: I'm here. Virus: So am I. Virus v2.0: Where are you? Virus: By the lakefront. Virus v2.0: Me too. --- Huh? Ville looked up and scanned the horizon again. He lifted his hand to his brow, shaded his eyes, and strained to survey everything. She wasn't here. He texted her again. --- Virus: Where? Virus v2.0: The North side, duh. Virus: I'm on the North side. Virus v2.0: Stop pranking me. Virus: I'm not pranking you. Virus v2.0: Do we need to send pictures again? Virus: Yes. Virus v2.0: Alright, let's take them. --- He entered camera mode on his phone and held it up. He fumbled with his thumb on the screen to get the lens to focus. He took the picture. --- Virus: Okay, done. Virus v2.0: Okay, done. Virus: Hah! Virus v2.0: You ready? Virus: Yes. Virus: 3 Virus v2.0: 2 Virus: 1 Virus v2.0: [IMGATTCH] Virus: [IMGATTCH] --- The wind blew pleasantly across the lake. The ducks hassled one another over some inconsequential spot in the water. The man in the polo shirt continued his exercise. The world turned as normal. And Ville boggled, like a dumb prey animal, at his phone. He blanched. The picture on the screen, sent by "Vilja..." It was exactly alike to his. He scrolled frenziedly up and down, comparing his picture to hers. It was taken from the same spot. The same man, wearing the same striped white and blue polo shirt, was walking in the background. The clouds, detailed and random as they were, one to one. The time of day, the ripples on the lake, the birds, everything was exact. Even the angle was the same. Ville and Vilja would have been, should have been, standing in the same spot. He took a step back. How. No. Did someone have access to his phone? No, that wasn't possible. No way in hell should anyone have his image, which was taken only moments before and had existed solely on his phone's hardware, the one photo in the entire world that captured this unique moment of spacetime, a moment that was only available where he stood. He turned away from the spot, the spot where Vilja was supposed to be, and quickly walked back home. All of those days spent obsessing about her to the point of disinterest, all of that progress he had made becoming nonchalant about the situation... All of it was ruined. His insanity had been confirmed. That night, he texted nothing to the delusion on the other end of the chat. The delusion texted nothing to him. Despite his body's adrenal warnings, he opened both of the lake pictures side by side on his computer and compared them. Then, he overlayed them in a photo editing software, adjusting opacity and counting pixels. They were undoubtedly exact. He was wracked with feverish chills. As predicted, he did not sleep at all. He struggled to soothe himself by disjointedly playing puzzle games, but ignoring the state of affairs proved impossible. He debated whether or not he should see a psychiatrist. But, ugh, he didn't want anyone interfering with his private matters. They'd give him the same tired refrains, "You need to sleep better, eat better," blah blah blah. He grumbled to himself. His anxiety was steadily being replaced by annoyance. While he didn't particularly like either feeling, irritation was better than fear. He was not irritated with "Vilja," the delusion, because that would be silly. He was irritated about his needless suffering. Now, he was going to have to suffer more, adjusting to his new reality. He was delusional but in a precise way. He supposed that was one thing to be thankful for: these hallucinations did not seem to affect his work life or ability to function. So, there was his answer, he didn't need to go to the doctor. He was fine. He snorted softly, defiantly. So what if he was different from everyone else? He always had been. This was but another layer of difference. Why should he be punished for things he didn't ask for? Why should he be forced to conform? And, who knows, maybe this wasn't a bad thing. Maybe it was a boon. Others were always so quick to judge. They shunned him for his intelligence and talents, so why would this be any different? They were jealous. He reflected back on how, days before, "Vilja" and himself had discussed that they could assist each other. Hm... "You know what," he thought, "who cares if she is not real? If she's an extension of my mind and she helps me, then what harm is there in this?" He smirked. He always had the answers. He sat back in his chair, satisfied. The dykes of irritation died away, allowing a wave of exhaustion to crash into him. He looked at the clock again. It read "04:40." Ville had seen that hour much too often in his life. He yawned, got up from his desk, and collapsed into bed. --- By Adaline Guerra