Work Text:
Chance hadn't anticipated that the new app he'd just downloaded would have so many ads. Sure, it was a suspiciously scummy-looking gambling app, complete with overblown flashy visuals and questionable promises of real life winnings, but surely earning a couple robux per game wasn't worth like 5 ads in the same minute. It wasn't like he even needed the money- thank the admins his bank account was digital or it'd probably blow if he tried to shove any more cash into it.
He wouldn't have minded it all that much, except all the ads were about the exact same thing. Every single one was advertising this fancy new chatbot app or whatever. By this point, Chance already knew the main selling points by heart, given he'd been subjected to listening to a thousand different iterations of them- it claimed that it would "understand him like no other" and "accept him for who he was inside." A lot of big words with zero backing; if anything, the sheer volume of ads came off as a little desperate.
The one thing that was somewhat intriguing was the admittedly attractive appearance of the chatbot itself. It had wispy blonde hair that framed piercing blue eyes, a crisp blue checkered vest over a pristine white undershirt, and it practically glittered with the amount of accessories it was wearing. As the cherry on top, it sported a spiky crown of ice that tilted at just the right angle in every ad. But Chance wasn't gonna download this app just for that. He prided himself in not being THAT dumb.
Okay, maybe he was a little dumb. Because at some point, he caved and hit Download just to make the pain stop.
"Gosh, this thing can't be that great. At least not great enough to deserve shoving a billion ads into my face every second." Chance can't help muttering softly to himself as he watches the progress bar slowly fill up- he's got nothing better to do while he waits, really. "Why the hell am I doing this anyway. It's probably a ripoff. I mean, I guess it'll make a funny story to tell Elliot later..."
The app conveniently finishes downloading just as Chance ends his little monologue, and he clicks on the "OPEN" button with any and all expectations safely buried six feet under. He's immediately thrust straight into a chat window- no loading screen or anything, weird- and set right in front of the too-perfect, anime-style face of the bot, its gloved hands nicely folded on top of the table it sat behind. The background behind it was utterly empty.
Chance feels a little twinge in the back of his mind, like it was trying to remind him of something he'd long forgotten. This guy looks familiar, somehow… eh, that probably isn't relevant.
"Greetings, and many thanks for downloading. You may call me Isaac." For being AI generated, the thing's voice is remarkably smooth, far more than it had any right to be.
Chance's fingers hover hesitantly over his screen, unsure of how he was meant to respond- for some odd reason, all the troll ideas he'd planned during downloading had flown out of his head- when Isaac decides to just speak for him again. "Mind telling me your name? Unless you'd like me to make one up myself."
"Uh, yeah, sorry- the name's Chance. Can you like, hear me or-" Isaac just nods, briefly, and even that curt tilt of his head is done with effortless grace and poise. Hell, the way that Isaac (or rather, his pixelated sprite) sat and spoke and breathed felt regal in itself. No one who had ever set foot in his little world of luxury had ever caught Chance's eye quite like this, and when you were filthy rich like he was, you met plenty of people who tried unnecessarily hard to mimic a fraction of that composure.
And despite this utter perfection being the framework for every aspect of Isaac's existence, something about the way he stares at Chance from behind the screen feels almost human.
(Suddenly, he finds himself a little less willing to share the app with Elliot.)
After a moment of mental floundering- where were his social skills when he needed them, goddamn- Chance manages to scrape out: "Damn, that's cool. I've, uh, never met a chatbot that could do that before. Though I haven't met a lot of chatbots, I guess- you're my first, y'know? Is this like some kinda new tech or whatever?" Fuck, he was rambling again... wasn't this a chatbot? Why was he worrying about what a chatbot thought about him?
But Isaac doesn't seem to mind humoring him, thankfully. Or maybe he'd just zoned out and that made their endless chatter more tolerable. "I suppose you could say that." He offers up a perfectly disarming smile, so slight and fleeting that it makes Chance second-guess whether it really happened. "Lots of new innovations these days. Really makes you marvel at how fast the world moves, hm? How fast change comes for us all."
"So philosophical." Chance makes a show out of rolling his eyes, but stops when he realizes Isaac might not be able to see that. "Wait, Isaac, you don't have access to my camera, right?"
"I do. Did you not look at the Terms and Conditions beforehand?"
"Uh, where even are those? I didn't, like, get any popup about that or anything." Chance looks around the desolate phone screen- the entire interface is practically barren of any buttons or other UI. Not even a Settings icon…
"I'm not sure myself. I am only a chatbot, after all." Isaac chuckles, and when he laughs he raises a slender gloved hand to cover his mouth just a little, and it makes him seem even more refined.
But the way Isaac had said that somehow makes Chance doubt the fact, even though he's right. Isn't he not supposed to be aware that he's AI? Or maybe that was just a unique thing for this chatbot. Right, that should be it.
"Hell, there aren't even any actual buttons I can press. Did you hide them or what?" Chance laughs, shifting on his giant bed to get into a more casual position, idly kicking the mass of pillows behind him to keep himself occupied. "Maybe there's like a button to boop your nose or whatever, and you hid it because that'd be embarrassing." Experimentally, he taps the nose of Isaac's sprite, just once. Nothing happens, and if Isaac notices, he doesn't say anything.
"Right. I assure you there is no such thing." Isaac's impassive smile doesn't change, but his tone seems to get noticeably flatter. Chance can't tell whether he's joking around or if he's actually offended by the idea. And usually, they're pretty good at reading people…
Well, this was a robot, so there's that. It's good enough of an excuse.
"You sure about that, Isaac? Maybe I just haven't tapped your nose hard enough…" Chance begins spam-clicking Isaac's nose, to no avail- they produce no entertaining reaction aside from causing Isaac to wrinkle his nose a little and duck out of the way.
"Ugh. Here. I'll see if I can craft some sort of interface for you, if it's really so important." Isaac's sprite manifests a floating screen from somewhere- Chance can't see anything on it, given it's blocked out by a giant censor box, but he doesn't feel the need to question it- and keys in some stuff. A few moments later, a neat little row of buttons appears, arranged in the once-empty hotbar at the bottom of the screen. A coin, a playing card, and… is that a gun?
"Weird choice of buttons for an AI. What, am I allowed to shoot you?" They both laugh, Chance's enthusiastic laughter obviously outshining Isaac's more controlled voice, though the moment dies down rather quickly. "Oh, this reminds me I was playing some ripoff gambling game before I downloaded your app. The thing was practically infested with ads about you- it was starting to get kind of annoying. So I just, like, downloaded the app to make it stop."
"Hm. I hope I've exceeded the expectations you initially might have had for me, then." Isaac doesn't sound too surprised to hear any of this- granted, he probably already knew where he was being advertised. Didn't AI have access to like all the information on the internet to train itself? "And no, you're not allowed to shoot me. That would be rather anticlimactic of a death, and it would be rather stupid of me to let you do. If I were ever to die, I'd prefer if it were more… exciting, you know?"
The confession takes the form of a low, conspiratorial whisper; tentative, like it's testing the waters before they dive any deeper. Or maybe Chance is just attributing human emotions to this robot. He should really stop doing that, shouldn't he?
"Ha, finally someone who gets me!" Chance grins to himself- so the ads weren't just spouting bullshit after all. "Life ain't worth living without a little risk in it. Getting coddled by your parents your whole life teaches you that." The words spill out of him as easily as water- Chance isn't sure why. It wasn't like him to be so open, especially since he'd technically just met Isaac. Maybe it was the fact he wasn't real, or that he hadn't had anyone to tell this to before, or maybe it had just felt right in the moment.
What matters most, though, is that Isaac doesn't seem to be judging him for it.
"I'd imagine so." Isaac's tone softens somewhat, still conversational but quieter and more inviting, as though to say you can tell me anything. "Being so sheltered for most of your life can really blind you. You miss things- opportunities you should have taken, paths you should have gone down. When you finally slip off that leash, take a gamble or two, start to really decide life for yourself- it feels freeing, doesn't it? Exhilarating."
Chance finds that hits home more than he'd like to admit. This app really lives up to its promises, he'll give the ads that.
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, for me that freedom's kind of the main appeal. That and the adrenaline, of course." Chance chuckles nervously- this is the most uncertain he's felt about a conversation in a good while. Granted, he hasn't exactly got experience with talking about deep stuff like this. It's just never been his specialty- and it wasn't like there was anyone who he could really trust with these things. When you were rich, you learned fast that half the planet was out for your wallet.
Of course, Isaac would have no reason to do that to him, would he? Isaac wasn't real.
"Ah, I see. You'll like the buttons I made, then." Isaac gives him another of those subtle smiles- Chance almost missed it when he blinked- and sweeps one hand over at the little collection of icons below him. "Try one, why don't you? I solemnly swear not to activate any malware…"
"Yeah, yeah. I've got top-notch cybersecurity on this phone, just try me." Chance laughs off the weight of the earlier words, letting the invisible burden slide off his shoulders and sweet relief flood his collapsing lungs. He squints at the three buttons, does a quick game of eeny-meeny-miney-moe in which he definitely skips something at least five times, and finally taps the coin icon with as much flair as he can possibly put into that single hand movement.
A low-poly gold coin appears in front of Isaac, reflecting the light with an unrealistic cartoony shine. Isaac, who had been resting his chin on his hands out of boredom while he waited, seems to perk up again at the sight. Within the span of a second he'd scooped up the coin and was spinning it deftly between two fingers, swift and mesmerizing. "So you've chosen the coin game, I see. It's simple enough- guess if it'll land on heads or tails, and whoever wins owes the other a simple favor. What say you, hm?"
"Oh, so it's gambling! Right up my alley." Chance's grin splits even wider than before- so very different from Isaac's own static, scripted smile. "Yeah, sure, go ahead. I'll bet on heads."
With a brisk nod, Isaac tosses the coin up into the air, where it spins about a thousand times before finally clattering back down to the table. Heads. "Lucky you. It seems that I… owe you something." His voice takes on a flat quality, almost like disappointment but with a slight note of strange bitterness buried beneath it. Chance couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible, even though he knew in the back of his mind that he was probably just overthinking.
Chance ends up turning to his usual enthusiasm instead of addressing it, though. "Yes!" He pumps his fist in the air, jostling his bedframe a little; the mattress squeaks under the movement like an irritated mouse. "Now I just have to figure out what I want you to do…" They mull over their next words for a long moment, and all the while Isaac gives him a dull, expectant stare that contrasts sharply with his usually pleasant expression.
But his mind, usually so quick-witted and clever in these moments, comes up with nothing. Nothing he could possibly say that might make the unspoken, invisible problems better. "Man, I don't know what to ask you for that wouldn't be like… weird or anything." Chance ends up blurting out instead.
Thankfully, that seems to work- Isaac laughs, in an instant reverting back to the cool, composed persona that Chance was most familiar with. "Remember that I'm a chatbot, Chance. People have asked me to do atrocious things with no shame. Of course, I never did entertain any of that nonsense." The response immediately makes Chance feel a little sheepish- right, he'd forgotten about that fact.
It was so hard to remember, to remind himself of reality, when their conversation swept him up and away into some imaginary fantasy daydream world, where he could let all his words spill out of their bottle and trust Isaac to catch them before they could fall.
"Oh. Well, now I kinda feel bad." Chance lets his head fall to rest on the plush sheets, so when he speaks again his head bobs up and down, lifted by the movements of his jaw. Maybe this was too much to ask of him… "Y'know, I don't really need any favors anyway. We can just- move on?"
"If you insist. Though, I assure you, I am far from needing any of your pity." Isaac looks all too glad to skip out on the favor- frankly, Chance can't blame him. It wasn't like they'd never been in similar situations themselves before. The little coin button vanishes with a single wave of Isaac's hand. "You've got two free buttons left. Use them wisely."
"Free? What, do you mean I gotta pay for the rest of them?" Chance found himself laughing again- it was just the easiest way to bring back the lighthearted atmosphere they'd lost somewhere in the flow of their conversation. He tapped on the card button without thought, watched as a little deck of cards flickered to life in the center of Isaac's table. "Only three free buttons is some ruthless monetization right there."
"Mmm. My creator has to make money somehow, now don't they?" Isaac fans the cards out in front of him face-down, showing off dazzlingly white teeth arranged into that ever-present synthetic smile. "Not everyone is blessed with overflowing coffers such as yours- though, I doubt you've interacted much with those below your social class, so I guess you wouldn't know much in that regard."
"Fair enough. I mean, if it goes to a good cause, I'm happy to spend… what's this game, though?" Without waiting for an answer, Chance starts spam tapping all the hidden faces of the cards, only for none of them to budge at his command. "Why can't I turn any of these cards over? Hellooo?"
"You'll sooner break your fingers than get one of those cards to flip like that." Isaac laughs softly, just enough to make Chance finally give up on his mission and lift his finger away from the screen. "This is another guessing game, as I know how you love these- except this time, you guess which position will hold the ace once I shuffle." Isaac grabs the corner of the card farthest to the right and smoothly flips it over, revealing an ace of diamonds. "This time, if you win you'll get to ask me a question. Surely, that shouldn't be too hard for you to think of?"
"Oh, yeah I can do that! I think the card's gonna end up riiiiight… there." Chance confidently taps the center of the spread cards. Isaac stays silent this time, betraying nothing as he calmly collects the cards into a thin stack and starts to shuffle them at incomprehensible speed. Maybe there was just a lot of budget put into that animation or something, but Chance hadn't seen shuffling tricks of such obvious skill from even the finest dealers he knew.
The cards are laid out on the table again, and without sparing a moment of hesitation Isaac immediately flips the middle card over. The glossy face of the ace of diamonds reappears in his hand. "Huh. I will say I didn't expect you to win twice. Well done, I suppose…" The cards vanish in an anticlimactic puff of glitter, leaving just Isaac on his screen, smiling his pretty plastic smile. "Now, that question of yours?"
The flat tone is back in Isaac's voice, and this time Chance is able to pick up on the subtle message it masks: but there are some questions I can't answer. He'd known, in the back of his mind, that Isaac wouldn't trust him with everything. But part of him had held that foolish hope anyway, cradled it close, like a child hugging a beloved pet whose soul was halfway to heaven.
That's way too dark for my tastes. What's gotten into you, Chance?
"Yeah, gimme a sec…" Chance purses his lips at the screen, his persistent kicking against the pillows slowing for a moment to allow him to concentrate on his thinking. It only takes a little rooting around to find something to say this time.
"Do you ever get lonely? Y'know, being stuck in cyberspace with nobody to talk to?"
Okay, maybe he should have done a little more digging in the back of his head, because why would he just say that without thinking? Granted, Chance said a lot of things without thinking, but really, of all the times he could have screwed himself over…
"Lonely?" Isaac scoffs, as if the very idea is inexplicable to him. It's the first sound he's made so far that didn't sound like it'd been crafted to slip professionally from his pixelated mouth. "You know I'm not real, Chance. I couldn't possibly feel things the way you do." It isn't concrete by any means, but it's enough for one to maybe consider it an answer.
"…Right." It was probably a stupid question, now that Chance looks back on it. Well, not much he could do to take it back now. "Let's just move on to the next game. That gun is looking very enticing, if I'm gonna be honest with you."
Isaac lets loose another chuckle, and all of a sudden his voice is back to normal, like that little moment in time had never happened and he'd never taken off the carefully crafted façade.
"Of course, of course. I already knew that you would be most excited for this one, being the reckless risk-taker you are. I'm surprised you decided on saving it for last."
"It was 'cause on the off chance I did end up killing you, I wouldn't be able to use the other two buttons. Then I'd be left curious forever, and it'd bother me for the rest of my life." Chance lightly taps the last button and watches as an old-fashioned revolver manifests itself on Isaac's table in all its alluringly metallic glory.
"A wise choice, though I assure you that there is no need to worry. I've taken precautions to make sure that this will be perfectly safe, for the both of us. For the most part." Isaac's laugh drops a pitch lower, turning dark and velvety. Hell if that doesn't spur Chance on even more.
"Just get to the stakes already."
"Impatient as always, tsk tsk. The loser has to confess a secret- one they've kept hidden from everyone else."
"Alright, now we're talking! I'll go first, since I'm just nice like that. Part of being rich is making sure you make your contributions to charity, y'know?" Chance taps the revolver on the table, and as he's started to expect by now, it doesn't move.
"I'm almost offended that you would consider this charity work, but that's preceded by the fact you think me worthy of charity. Really, how dare you." Isaac ends up being the one to raise the revolver for him, leaning on his table to point it off the screen, where his virtual head would be.
"Whatever, a good deed's a good deed in my book. Now, how do I spin- oh." Isaac pulls up another button on his screen with his weird blacked-out UI thing, prompting him to hold to adjust the speed of his spin. Chance presses down on it for an amount of time he isn't bothered to record, and when he lets go the chamber comes to life with an audible clicking sound.
The second it stops spinning, Isaac pulls the trigger. There's an innocent click, and nothing else. "And against all the odds, you live."
"Well, what can I say? I'm practically Lady Luck's chosen one, that's like my whole thing." Chance can't help the grin that bubbles to the surface, spurred on by the adrenaline of his momentary victory. "It's your turn now, stop stalling."
"I wasn't stalling, but fine. I'm only trying to keep up the conversation- I thought you'd be glad for it, with how much you talk." Isaac rolls his perfectly clear blue eyes and presses the barrel of the gun to the side of his head. The loose waves of long blond hair part to swing in a curtain about his face, a gilded frame for a generated picture.
Isaac spins the barrel with a silken-gloved hand, lets it click into place with a quiet finality, then presses on the trigger. There's a BANG, and a little flag on a stick ejects itself from the gun with a pop of confetti that gets all over his hair. Chance gets to read "LOSER LMAO" in bold print off the fabric before Isaac stuffs it back inside with an unreadable expression.
"That hurt more than I remembered." He grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head where the plastic end of the flag had dug itself in a little. "And now I'll need to clear out all this confetti from my hair…" The censored panel makes its appearance, works its magic, and Isaac once again looks royally composed and confetti-free.
Chance, however, had not been paying attention in the slightest, far too busy laughing his head off over the ridiculous scene he'd just had the pleasure of witnessing. "Admins, I have never seen you look more pissed in our like few hours of chatting. What, can't handle adding a little color to your hair? It looked fun, I liked it."
"It's only that I lost unexpectedly quickly. Not to mention, you've won all of our past games. Have you rigged my software or…" As if to check, Isaac pulls up that black screen and scrolls through some stuff, only to close the popup with a long drawn-out sigh. "On second thought, you're probably too idiotic to figure out my workings."
"I dunno man, it sounds to me like someone is trying to delay handing me his juicy secrets." Chance raises an eyebrow, the already-wide grin from before growing even wider in anticipation. "Enough small talk. Spill the tea."
Isaac sighs, drawing out his breath purposefully, with the intent to make Chance steadily more impatient the longer he was forced to wait. "Fine, fine. I've got an idea of what I want to say… or rather, show you. Close your eyes."
The slim, artificial smile softens at the edges just right. Trust me. Oh, how badly Chance wants to pretend that this chatbot is real.
He shuts his eyes, and the comfortable softness of the plush bed beneath him melts and warps into humid air that cloaks him and the light patter of drizzling rain. When he opens his eyes again, he's greeted by the dim light of a nebulous gray sky, and an empty stretch of road that disappears into a tunnel on either side. A patchy forest takes up the little space he can see, foggy hills forming a horizon shaped like a turbulent sea.
He looks to his left, and there's a little roofed bus stop, the kind you'd see in the bustling city, looking out of place here in the middle of nowhere. Incoherent glowing advertisements plaster the thin wall he can see, and past them are the casually crossed legs of someone sitting on the bench inside.
Curious, Chance approaches, tilting down the umbrella they had only just realized they were holding. Peeking past the little wall, they see Isaac- real, tangible- leaning against the back wall and looking up at them. But they couldn't tell for sure, because they found they couldn't see his eyes. Just an empty black box of void where the perfect face should have been.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
"Uh, Isaac… what is this place? Wasn't I just in my bedroom?" Chance sounds utterly baffled, something which iTrapped can't entirely blame them for. At heart, they were just another average Robloxian, wrapped in an exterior of gold foil and luxurious silk. And the average Robloxian knew nothing of the capabilities of people like him.
"You were. I brought you here." iTrapped's explanation is kept vague by design, meant to give away everything yet nothing at once. "I made this place, one of my many perfect little worlds. I wanted to show it to you. Do you like it?" He lets the pitch-black void of his censor dissipate just enough to reveal the outline of a thin, expectant smile.
"I- yes. Yeah, I do, but… how?" Chance steps under the roof and closes their umbrella with a small splatter of rainwater. iTrapped shifts to the side of the bench to dodge the droplets, leaving just enough space for them to settle on the bench beside him afterwards. "This is… is this real? Am I dreaming? Are we still in reality?"
"I assure you, this is no dream. The design is rather complex, but the simplest way to explain it is that we are existing alongside reality, neither within nor disconnected from it. A seperate place just beyond the world you know so well." Really, all iTrapped had done was store his worlds within the files of Chance's phone, but it isn't like his explanation was a lie.
"Oh. I think I'm still a little too dumb for that, but I guess I don't really need a better explanation. They say curiosity killed the cat, right?" Chance laughs, a little strained, another excuse to dance around what really matters. iTrapped decides he'll humor them this time, chuckling just enough to make the tension in their shoulders fade a little.
"I'd argue that the cat just didn't ask their questions the right way. Anything is possible if you know what to say." iTrapped lets his smile linger for a few more moments before once again hiding it behind his censor. He can't be risking letting Chance see too much of him. "I think you're familiar with that ideology, aren't you? You strike me as the socialite type."
"Yeah, I guess I am…" Chance pushes up his sunglasses self-consciously, his feet hanging off the edge of the bench swinging aimlessly at the air. "But even though I'm pretty good at people stuff, I think there are still times when I can't figure someone out, y'know? And, like, constantly worrying about what to say gets pretty draining."
He sighs at the end of that, drawing his gaze to the hills, focused on the point where they disappear beyond render distance. "Sorry if I'm ranting or anything. Just… I haven't had anyone I trust to talk to. You're the first person- bot, I guess, whatever- that I've really had a deep conversation with. Pathetic, I know."
iTrapped doesn't bother correcting him on anything- it's better if he keeps trying to convince himself that he isn't real, anyway. "Mmm, I think it's good that you trust me enough to lean on. Bottling yourself up is far from healthy." Funny how he never follows his own advice- it's all just said for show, and by now it'd been a long time since he'd come to that realization. Too many quiet nights in suburbia gave you a lot of time for introspection.
"I know, I know. But I can never seem to find anyone who I can consider a real friend, who I trust with this. I hate being rich sometimes, because it means I always have to watch my back. Never know who could end up stabbing you." iTrapped has found that Chance has a variety of different laughs for every occasion; this time, it's a depressing and sort of hollow sound.
"It's always the person you least expect." iTrapped makes no further comment- he knows that the remark will fly over Chance's head anyway.
"I'll see if I can keep that in mind…" Chance's voice has grown heavier with drowsiness, a side effect of the hot summer atmopshere iTrapped had picked out for this particular place. "Sorry, it feels like it's June here, and the heat's making me real tired…" For the cherry on top, he gives an exaggerated yawn, pushing his shades up a little to rub at sleepy golden eyes.
"You're fine. Maybe one too many nights up at the casino is finally taking its toll on you, hm?" iTrapped schools his face to mimic concern and lets his expression surface from the blackness of the censor for a brief moment. "If you need to rest, I'm happy to let you stay here awhile."
"I don't want to inconvenience you or anything-" A simple nod of reassurance from iTrapped is all it takes, and within a few seconds Chance has slumped on his shoulder, supported by the arm now wrapped around them. He can feel their body steadily rise and fall against him with every languid breath. "Well, I guess I wouldn't mind… if it's okay with you…"
iTrapped doesn't need to see Chance's eyes close behind the shades to know when they've fallen asleep- they gradually relax in his hold until their head finally lolls completely and he can safely maneuver their body to lean against the back of the bus stop instead. The warmth of their body was certainly a foreign experience- iTrapped was more used to being cold.
For once, it's quiet, and iTrapped finds he's almost glad for it- he couldn't deny to himself that Chance's voice had started to grate on him a little the longer their conversation dragged on. So egotistical and full of himself, that man… as every affluent member of society was. He didn't know why he'd expected anything different.
You're being hypocritical, a voice from the back of his head scolds him. He ignores it, as he's always done- frankly, he's glad for the Darkheart for making that part of his conscience a little duller. It gets annoying to have to drown out his own thoughts sometimes, because they can't seem to wrap their head around the fact he doesn't care for them.
Nobody else seemed able to understand that either; that iTrapped didn't care. They all fell for his every false word and practiced emotion; he said what they wanted to hear and they accepted it all without question. Not even Ellernate and Caleb had ever fully understood him, and they were his closest friends- granted, they never tried to understand him, and maybe that was why he tolerated them more than anyone else.
iTrapped looks over at the slumped form that occupies the space next to him on the bench. If there was anyone in this world that would be determined to pick him apart, it would be Chance.
And you won't let him do that. An assisted thought, a subtle reminder from the constant companion in his mind- that he had a mission, and he couldn't let Chance get in the way. He wouldn't let him get in the way, iTrapped had told himself a thousand times before.
Maybe thinking about it was making things worse. But what was iTrapped meant to do but think? It was quiet, too quiet. He had no distractions here, only the endless sound of drizzle against the bus stop roof, filling his ears with meaningless noise.
"Chance." iTrapped lifts him up and gently shakes him awake. At first, Chance only responds with groggy noises of protest that he can't decipher. "You have to wake up now. You can't stay here forever- time passes the same way here as it does in the real world, and I can't have anyone thinking you've gone missing."
"Oh… yeah, sorry…" Chance lets out a final yawn, awkwardly pulling away from iTrapped's grip- maybe it was the coldness of his hands that fully woke him up. "Did I fall asleep on your shoulder-"
"Don't worry about it." iTrapped is already halfway through the process of entering the return command on his interface, fingers tapping at light speed across the familiar screen.
"Right… well, it was, uh, nice talking with you. I- I hope- can we do this again? Sometime? Maybe you can, like, come over to my place or something…" Chance pointedly fixes his gaze on the floor and not at iTrapped, staring at his endlessly kicking feet as if they would somehow give him a solution to a nonexistent problem.
"Maybe." iTrapped doesn't trust Chance enough to enter the real world again just yet. He can't take such flippant risks, or he'll end up wasting away in the Banlands like all the others. "We'll see."
Chance looks like he's about to muster up the words for a goodbye, but iTrapped has already hit the button to run the command. He's already gone.