Page 25
Now, as I was saying, things may be turning around, considering we’re now in what I would consider to be heaven, standing in an arcade. And not just any arcade, at that. Unlike the arcades in town now that cater more to VR gaming, this one looks like a millennial paradise, complete with the late 90s and early 00s games I grew up on and neon lights that give way to carpeted flooring riddled with glow-in-the-dark stars, like the ones I had on my bedroom ceiling growing up.
As if that wasn’t amazing enough, despite the continuous clatter of coins being distributed and the clusterfuck of machine audios mashing into one, we’re alone.
Nostalgia? Rennix? No people to socialize with?! Say. Less. I’m sold.
Gaming has and always will be a form of solace for me, and it all stemmed from a summer vacation I’ll never forget. The summer before I started middle school, my parents took me on vacation to the Jersey Shore, when we were traveling back to the East Coast to visit family.
We were only there for three, maybe four days, tops, but I distinctly remember them arguing for the entirety of that time. I realized years later, the vacation was actually a last-ditch effort to save their marriage that was beyond any possible repair. It would take me many more years and lots of therapy to realize that their divorce wasn’t my fault and that it was wrong of them to use their only child as a pawn to their arguments. But trauma dump aside, that trip was one of the defining moments and memories of my life because I was introduced to the world of gaming via the arcade on the boardwalk that became my second home while there.
Neither of my parents had the energy to entertain me or deal with me in between their constant bickering, so every day I would be given an allowance to entertain myself.
Was it reckless given my age at the time, with no cell phone or way to get ahold of them if need be? Probably. But if it wasn’t for their choice to leave me to fend for myself, I might have never discovered something I not only enjoyed, but would also shape my career path.
Alas it was a silver lining and now, standing in front of me, is a treasure trove of Y2K games and tech devices that I know I have somewhere in my childhood bedroom at my mom’s house in a Payless shoebox. In other words, I feel at home. Not the broken one I came from, but the one I relied on as a means to escape. A feeling that no matter where I am can comfort me and make me feel seen.
“This is new.” Rennix grabs a Tamagotchi off the top of the glass case he’s standing in front of.
“No, it’s not. They’ve been around forever.”
“Not this.” He dangles the metal keychain on his finger. “This,” he says, motioning to our surroundings. “I’ve never gotten to this part before.”
The excitement in his voice puts some sort of momentary spell on me, making me ignore the burning, What the fuck do you mean you’ve never gotten to this part before? Part of what? What the hell is going on Rennix? wanting to get out and bite my tongue…literally.
“You want to play?” he asks, all chipper.
“I’ll pass. Thanks.”
He stares at me with such bewilderment you’d think I stabbed him. “Oh, come on, they’re fun. You just have to…”
“I know. Let it hatch, feed it, entertain it, feed it again, clean up its digital shit, feed it some more, get it to sleep and so on. It’s like a full-time job except you don’t get paid.”
Rennix chuckles, pocketing the bane of my childhood existence. “I take it you weren’t a fan of these then?”
“I wanted to be, but sadly no. I had a difficult enough time trying to do all those things myself. The mental load of having to play mom to a toy that beeped—” I shake my head, bringing my hands to my ears for a moment, covering them. “Ah, all that beeping.” The absolute horror. “No, thank you.”
“Got it. No Tamagotchis for you…” His voice drifts as he scans the plethora of other options for us to play.
“What about this one?” He points to a Sega racing game. Tempting. Very fucking tempting. But no. Enough is enough. We can’t keep walking around in circles, avoiding the obvious. As cool as this all is, it’s undeniably bizarre.
If Rennix has been trapped here for the past twenty years, all the while growing into a fucking snack of a man…
Seriously, the glow-up he’s had should be illegal. I’ve never felt so unworthy of being in his presence. But I digress…
Him being here for as long as he has, whether he chose this or was sucked into it like I was—I’ll put money on the latter—means he must have at least some knowledge about what this place is.
I can’t help but feel he’s keeping whatever he knows from me, and I have questions that demand answers.
I trail behind him as he explores our surroundings. It’s hard not to feel like a kid in a candy store right now. Especially as we’re passing one of my favorites, Dance Dance Revolution. It’s taking everything in me not to hop up on the dance pad, power her up, and shake a little ass. Maybe later. Now, I need to get Rennix to catch me up on what’s going on.
A minute later, his fingers snap excitedly, pointing at a two-person racing game. “Look, it’s just like the one we used to play.” He jogs over to inspect the machine before sitting on the yellow chair. “What do you say? Want to see if you still got it or are you too busy designing games of your own to play them?”
Oh boy. Not only do I have to get him to focus for a change, but also break it to him that I’ve allowed my messy personal life to affect my professional one. Not wanting to get into that right away, I opt for a simple, “I’ll always kick your ass, don’t you worry,” and seat myself next to him on the opposing racer’s chair.
“I bet the graphics today have improved tenfold since this hunk of junk was made,” he says, glancing my way.
Hyperaware of how good his attention feels on me, I keep my gaze on the grainy screen ahead. The imagery is so flat compared to today’s graphics, but in all its fuzzy nostalgia it’s somehow better.
“You can tell me. I’m a big boy, I can handle hearing how much I’ve missed out on.” He clears his throat. “I mean, with games, that is.”
