Ah ha ha...I started playing Mystic Messenger a while ago and in my picture downloading, I found a photo that inspired this little piece by Kooriiko on tumblr.
You are not real…
That was the most difficult thing she had to accept as she gazed into her phone, her eyes glued to the screen at the image of the redheaded hacker. That damned app, damned eleven-day timeline, the amount of time she spent looking at her sleeping phone for a new chatroom to open. She loved them: protective, narcissistic musical actor Zen; LOLOL warrior by night, college student by day Yoosung; hardworking, kind Jaehee; timid, grieving V; nervous, healing Saeran; even cat-obsessed trust fund brat Jumin.
But Seven. Luciel. Saeyoung. Of everyone in the game, she loved him in a way that stole her breath, that sent her heart into overdrive, and that had her imagining their future. The sweet dreams she had from the chatrooms they were in, the texts they exchanged, and the phone calls had fueled her mind with lingering, longing thoughts of him. Then she would remember.
He wasn't real.
He was someone who existed within the game on her phone, not in her reality.
And it broke her heart into a thousand pieces.
Even now, as she had reset and redone Seven's route for the hundredth time from the comfort of her room, her heart ached at the fact that he could never be real, could never actually be beside her to joke around and eat Honey Buddha chips and drink Ph. D Pepper. She couldn't have that with him. The pad of her thumb hovered over the image from the visual novel, before he realized that the main character—her—was in danger. She almost wanted to put the game down right then, to pause in playing, to just leave it alone.
She couldn't. She already knew how their happily ever after ended. She could never, in her hundreds of other resets, bear to get the bad endings for Seven. She only wanted that happily ever after. He deserved that and more.
Her thumb pressed against the screen, over to where his heart should be and tears pricked at her eyes.
She loved him. Damn it all, she loved him so much that it hurt to breathe, that the tears burned down her cheeks, her chest heaving from sobs so full they scared her. She turned onto her side, laying the phone against soft, lilac comforter on her bed as she closed her eyes while her shattering heart stabbed her from within. All the while, all she could think of was…why? Why couldn't he exist and be here beside her?
It would just make everything so much easier…
You're not real…
Saeyoung Choi, known as Seven to the RFA, knew that sound even though she existed behind his screen. He knew she was crying and he knew why because his own heart was breaking into a million pieces for the same reason. He knew he didn't exist in her reality, just as she didn't exist over on his side. If he could, he would do everything in his power to stop her tears now.
She had left her phone face-up so he could see her ceiling. It was just like his, with glow-in-the-dark stars and planets; her own little galaxy after a long day. Tears blurred his vision behind his glasses and Saeyoung took them off to press a hand to his eyes. She was trying to keep her sobs quiet, but he could still hear them from her side of the screen.
Why was it so one-sided? Why could he see every expression she made on his phone screen, hear every little sound from her giggles up to her sobs, but she couldn't? Why did God have him see and hear all of this, but she could only hear what the game would convey to her? Those pre-recorded responses only scratched the surface of how much he loved her, of how much it killed him to see how hurt she was because he knew. He knew that every time she reset the game, she hoped to get him. She had done it hundreds of time and always chose him. He knew she loved the other RFA members; he knew she loved his brother too. But God, she really, really loved him as much as he loved her and regardless of how many times she'd reset to do his route all over again, he would always remember that. He would always remember every reset to not mourn her doing so for long because it meant she was coming back to him.
Her being behind his cell phone screen was not enough. That barrier separated their worlds and he never before hated the damned device in his hand. It kept him from her, this screen, this programming, this endless cycle, this fucking game. If he could shatter that goddamned barrier, he would in a heartbeat so that he could finally see her, touch her, tell her all the things those recordings only glimpsed into. He would show her how much he loved her, that he hadn't forgotten that with every reset like he was meant to, and make sure she'd never, ever in a thousand galaxies forget him.
"Saeyoung." Her voice was a whisper, strained by her tears. It was a call for him, a plea similar to one that ripped from his own throat in the form of her name during those hours in the dark where he wished for her warmth to be beside him during those times he did sleep. His thumb brushed over the sensitive screen of his own, back and forth, praying to God that he could call out to her and not be just some preprogrammed character behind her screen. Saeyoung wanted God to allow him happiness for once, as the fingers of his free hand clutched at the cross he wore around his neck, the metal cool to the touch. He could barely pick up her breathing; the sobbing had stopped, replaced by steadiness he could only perceive as her crying herself to sleep. Saeyoung shut his eyes, chewing on his lower lip so hard that he could taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.
Why did they have to suffer like this? Why couldn't they just…be together?
He brought his phone close to his chest, as though that alone would convey the frequency of his heartbeat over to hers. He whispered her name, a silent plea to the endless sea of stars that he hoped would travel in waves and reach her.
Please God. All I ask is that you let her hear me. Give me that at least…