“What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
I can hear the smile in her voice. Now, whether that smile is directed at me or the prick in her bed, I’d rather not know. It’s never a good thing when Romily smiles. She’s either bruising egos or knuckles…
“What is it?” I ask again. “And don’t say nothing.”
She huffs loudly into the speaker. “An AI boyfriend to keep your skills fresh and ready for the next real man.”
“Nope.”
“Fuck off. He’s hot, responsive, and he won’t send you unsolicited pics of his ego,” Roo explains. “What more do you want?”
I scoff. “How do you know he’s hot? Didn’t you just say?—”
“Yes,” she hisses. “I know what I said. It’s an AI boyfriend, Eris. Not an actual man. He is what you make him. Low risk. High fantasy.”
“You’re a menace. The actual bane of my existence,” I complain as I click on the link she sent me and begin downloading the app.
“Gotta go. Love you. Bye,” she screeches into the phone before she starts giggling.
I groan as I watch the app appear on my otherwise empty screen. I keep everything tucked away in neat folders… And then there’s this.
The icon is a discreet pixelated heart in a red to purple gradient. I don’t hate it… But the name makes me quirk a brow.
HimLock.
Someone certainly has a sense of humor.
I tap on the app and brace for the worst. If I have to fill out a personality test or sexual preference form, I might hunt Roo down and interrupt her one-night stand in dirty sheets to start a fight with her.
The home-screen of the app is sleek, a simple charcoal background with a slow-pulsing red heart and one clickable word.
Stay.
It’s clingy… But I’ll overlook it since there are no cartoon avatars or empty promises in curly pink fonts.
I tap on that overoptimistic word, frowning at myself. If anyone other than Roo had asked me to download this app, I would have told them no. Hell, I told her no too, and look where that got me.
Too fucking curious.
A purple bar crawls across my screen, a line of text appearing under it.You won’t regret this.
I snort as I settle deeper into the corner of my sofa. “Sure, I won’t.”
The signup window opens, and to my surprise, it only wants a username. That’s it. No prompt for a picture. No scale asking if I prefer love-bombing or slow burn pain…
Just a name.
A fake one at that.
I contemplate for a moment, but ultimately, I choose my real name and click save. The screen goes completely black, then my keyboard pops up. A text appears in real time, each word slow and measured, as if the AI is thinking.
Locke:
Welcome, Eris, Goddess of Discord. We’ve been waiting for you.
I almost laugh.
