"In the winter of 2016, the online update of Sweven had just uploaded to the server, and nothing was the same since," Teresa, standing over the sink in their communal kitchen, was listening to Star doing a dramatic read from across the room. She pressed her palms onto the counter, lifting her body up and taking a seat.
Teresa took a bite of an apple, watching her skim an old newspaper. Star was wearing a black, fitted suit covered from neck to toe; it had forcefield armor technology.
"Palestinian-Egyptian game designer and neuroscientist of consciousness, Teresa Avraham, was the first to develop an online software that was able to cross wire one's mind to an online server, thus creating the world renowned VR game known as Sweven. Jeez, they worshiped you like you were a god or something."
"I was," she recalled, unfocusing her eyes and staring at the wooden floor of their treehouse.
Star slid down from her dangling chair, swinging from the pull-up bar, "You okay, Tess?"
Teresa nodded a little too quickly, "Yeah, I um ... "
"You sure?" Star jumped down to the floor, taking Teresa's apple from her hand and taking a bite, "'Cause you look a lil' funny."
Teresa tied her hair up into a ponytail, brushing back the strands with her fingernails, "Your body's with Gabriel.
Star took another bite, strategically keeping her face still, "And you know this how?"
The sound of wood rapidly tapping against each other clicked until Teresa saw a young man step out of man-made elevator and onto the floor of the treehouse. He was wearing a suit similar to Star's. "Yo, there's some fuckshit goin' on at the Rabbit. People are goin' bonkers — I brought sambusas, y'all want some? They're Ethiopian."
Star turned around, grabbing the greasy paper bag he was offering, "What type of 'fuckshit'?"
"What's a sambusa?" Teresa inquired.
"Like a samosa," he shoved a lentil fried dough into his mouth. "Fuckin' Roma, of all people, with his loud ass mouth drew attention to the diadem like it's public knowledge and shit."
Teresa slid off the counter, "What?"
"You've gotta be kidding me," Star commented.
He shook his head, "Afraid not."
"How do you know this?" Teresa asked.
He rid his lips of crumbs, "I was there getting my portal gun recharged. Alister was was tryna have me spend fourteen-seas on the joint. Like that's gonna happen, no, thank you."
"Gerald," Star caught their attention. "Please tell me you've been working on your code switching."
He scoffed, leaning against the kitchen table, "I'm not an idiot."
"No one said you were," Teresa added. "Did you get it recharged?"
He nodded, "Carolina took nine for it."
"Nine?" Teresa was in disbelief.
He shrugged, "Y'all know how it is nowadays. Niggas out here just tryna make a decent livin' and shit. She ain't acknowledge it but I saw her move in a couple rows over last week, with the kid from Birmingham. She's a mind reader; I got the gist."
Teresa felt Star's eyes on her but she avoided meeting them as long as she could.
"Tess, can I talk to you outside?" Star asked.
Teresa parted her lips, "Of course."
Gerald gave her a confused look as she followed Star out onto the balcony, looking over the Grove. They were about a hundred feet from the ground, living in the trees in a community of everyone trapped in the game. Teresa rested her forearms on the railing, overlooking people walking across poorly woven bridges connected from trunk to tree trunk. Everything was green and brown: the homes, the plants, the air, the sky.
"You didn't tell her," Star finally spoke, standing next to Teresa with her face towards their kitchen. "Did you?"
Teresa looked down, fidgeting with her fingers, "Would they have done it if I told them the truth?"
Star bit her lip, "Okay, probably not."
"Everything is on a need to know base-ese ... basis? Is base-ese plural?"
"Basis," Star corrected.
Teresa repeated, "Basis."
"I told Gerald I help him with his twelfth ascension — "
"He's that behind?"
"He plays to explore the levels." Star chuckled.
"Yeah, that's how it's supposed to be," she muttered under her breath.
"You wanna come?"
Teresa shook her head, "After what Gerald just told us, I should look into Roma; see what he knows."
"Are you sure? How much time do you have left?"
Teresa checked her watch, "A couple minutes, damnit."
"You can use the portal gun," suggested Star.
She made a noise with her tongue, "It can wait until tomorrow, I've been here all day — "
"You don't have to be here everyday," Star told her, resting her hand on Teresa's shoulder. "Me and Gerald got this."
"No, I want to be. I want to help."
Star sighed in defeat, "Come on, let's prep him for HALT."
The two of them walked back into the house and into the living room where Gerald was sitting on the couch, with his ankles crossed on the coffee table, watching a rerun of Friends. He was eating corn chips.
Star did a slow front flip, balancing her body enough to place her feet exactly where she wanted and standing back up straight, "Alright kid, here's the rundown."
Teresa sat on one of the bottom steps of the iron, spiral staircase with her legs folded as Gerald muted the television. "Twelfth ascension time, it's a big deal."
"Why, what is it?" Gerald looked up at Teresa with wide eyes. He turned to Star, "Well?"
She gave him a smirk, "Kid, you get to attempt the HALT."
Gerald stood up from his seat, "No — you're fuckin' with me, right?"
Star paused, "Gerald, listen — "
"Oh, my god!" He wrapped his arms around her and twirled her around. "Oh shit, what if I beat your time? Not saying I could, but what if I do? Holy shit, Duch, this is crazy."
"Gerald," Teresa said calmly, drawing his attention.
He noticed the look on their faces, "Fuck, what is it?"
Teresa straightened up her back, "The Hall is designed to face your darkest memories in life. Every memory that's ever made you feel irate, livid."
"I almost didn't make it out," Star admitted, resting her hands on her hips. "It was luck, not skill, it's the worst part of this place. No offense, Tess."
She shrugged, "It wasn't a walk in the park for me either."
"Everyone has different fears, faced different triumphs — "
"No trial is the same for two people," Teresa continued. "It's designed for the player, not the game itself."
Gerald scratched the back of his neck, "So, you're sayin' I'm gonna see some really heavy shit?"
They both nodded.
"What did y'all see?" Teresa and Star exchanged glances. Gerald sat back on the couch, "Shit, that bad?"
Star took a seat next to him, "I had three doorways."
Teresa exhaled, "I had seven."
"What?" Star looked up at her, "But you said — "
"I know what I said," she interrupted, running her hands down her face. "I've made many mistakes in my life — "
"Don't finish that sentence," Gerald grimaced, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I understand where you're coming from, Tessa, I really do but ... but you can leave — see your family — we can't. You're always here. And I'm not tryna come off as ungrateful or nothin' but Duch and I, we got this. I got this. We'll find your diadem, hand it over, and — "he caught himself. Star rubbed her hand in between his shoulders, on his back. "We know what we gotta do to get outta here. I know you feel guilty — we both do — but you got kids, get some sleep, shit ... "
Star parted his lips, "I think what he's trying to say is that you don't need to make this a priority, Tessa. We don't wanna burden you. And besides, no one's as close as me to find the diadem. Gerald, you're what? Seventh place? I'll catch him up in no time. I'll take him to Saint Sebastian, that'll bring him up to at least fourth. I'd deal with Roma. We got this, Tessa. You'll see — "
Teresa's sight went black. The first thing she saw through the blurs of her lashes, when she woke up in her bedroom, was the timer on her tablet reading 00:00.
The room was dark, the clock read eleven-thirty-four PM but her bedside laid empty. She removed the headphones from her ears, massaging them as she placed it and the orb from her temple onto her side table. She slid out of bed, opening the door and walking slowly down the hallway, trying not to make a sound.
Entering the living, the fireplace illuminated the room in shades of orange. Her husband and two daughters were sound asleep on the couch. Her daughters were lying next to one another, sharing a blanket. She approached the couch, taking a seat next to where her husband was laying and she rested her head on the cushion. He moved at the feel of her movement.
"Hey," his voice was groggy, eyes still closed. "Any progress?"
Teresa pursed her lips, "I think so."
He hummed, "Time will tell, it'll all work out in the end."
She nawed at her bottom lip, "I really hope so."