Dorothy lay on her bed, writing in her journal. Her hands were black with ink, but she didn't care. She wrote: "Dear Diary, does this matter at all? Why do I even try or deserve to live like a human? I am being a fake. Roger is being a fake too, I think. Everyone's fake in this house, and probably in this world. Now the person I could talk to most about issues is gone. I am alone. I want to die."

Roger knocked on the door. "Dinner is ready, it's getting cold."

"I'm not hungry," she said.

"You'll starve to death."

"It's not like you'd care."

"I do care, uh... I'm sorry about earlier. Just come out and eat."

"I'll be out in a minute."

Dorothy poked at her dinner with a fork. It was slightly burnt... she didn't even know what it was. The dinner table was silent until Roger spoke up. "It's supposed to be spaghetti. It's my first time cooking, and all, so my cooking may take a while to get better."

"It's all right, it'll do."

"Glad you understand."

After dinner, they sat in the living room, enjoying a couple of drinks. Dorothy figured Roger had had a few drinks beforehand, seeing how freethinking he was being.

"Dorothy?"

"Yes, Roger?"

"How does it feel to have a human body now?"

"It's - It's alright."

"Alright? Ha! You know, I'd rather be an android any day! No feelings, no having to put up with some of the most horrible shit..."

"No, really, it's great."

"Honestly, you must be kidding!"

He set down another empty wine glass and looked into her eyes. "I know you're lying to me," he said.

"Roger, I wouldn't lie to you."

"Everybody lies, Dorothy. I wish you'd tell me what you're thinking right now, what you feel as a human."

"You want the truth?"

"Yes."

She figured he was so drunk he'd forget about anything they were saying, so she continued. "I - I hate it. I don't want to live anymore. And there are so many things I cannot say..."

"What do you mean you cannot say them?"

"It would be being too honest."

"Too honest? I've never heard that before. Too insincere, maybe, but never too honest. Tell me your secrets, and I'll reveal mine."

"Roger, I don't know about that..."

"Don't know about what? I'll understand."

"I love you, I always have. But you love Angel."

"You think I love Angel?"

"Well, yes, I assumed that."

"No, no. We are old flames, but I don't love her now. She's not my type of girl."

"I see."

"Can we promise to be more truthful to each other now?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Would you like to learn to be like a human?"

"Be more human? Is it possible?"

"Physically and mentally, you're human. But not so much emotionally."

"I'm aware of that."

"I can help you, Dorothy."

He leaned over and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her. She wasn't so used to this; she didn't know what to do. So she went with her best instinct. He took her hand and stood up, pulling her up as well. "Follow me," he whispered in her ear. He took her into his bedroom and he began unbuttoning her shirt. Then he pushed her onto his bed. It was so foreign, so strange.

"Roger, I don't know about this."

"Shh..."

"Oh, this doesn't seem right."

"It's all right to be scared," he said. "We all are for our first time."

He was on top of her. Dorothy understood what he meant now. Sex makes people more human. There were so many thoughts inside her head. She didn't know what to do.

"Do you feel vulnerable? Do you feel exposed?"

She couldn't speak.

"Answer me, and remember what I said about being truthful."

"I - I... yes, I feel vulnerable, I feel exposed."

"Dorothy, how does it feel? How should I feel? Tell me, how does it feel?"

"I'm cold and frightened and yet..."

"What? What is it?"

"I feel ecstasy."