Don took a seat beside Donald as the latter began setting up the gaming system.
The setup was more than just a simple console; it was a sleek, high-tech piece of equipnt that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie. The central unit was larger than a typical console, with various blinking lights, cooling fans, and holographic displays that projected different ga stats and system updates.
The controllers, though wireless, had a sophisticated design, with customizable buttons and adaptive triggers that adjusted to the ga being played.
Don watched as Donald turned on the setup, paying close attention to every move he made. Not because he was particularly interested in the process, but because he knew it would be strange for soone his age to be completely ignorant about gaming in this world.
At least, if he ca off as ignorant, it was better that it happened in front of Donald, who seed more forgiving and less judgntal. Plus, Don recognized the potential in keeping Donald close—he was easy to convince, didn't have many other friends, and lived right next door. In Don's mind, Donald was the perfect ally, soone who could be easily manipulated if necessary.
As he calculated the various ways he could use Donald to his advantage, a bit of guilt crept in. After all, Donald was kind and eager for friendship. But then Don reminded himself that he had died because of misplaced trust in his forr life. He knew better now; he wouldn't be the one getting used. If anything, should the need ever arise, Donald could be the one to take the fall.
While Don was deep in thought, Donald was having an entirely different internal struggle. He wondered if he should offer Don so snacks, but then rembered his mom only stocked the house with gluten-free options.
He briefly considered cooking sothing, but worried that might co off as weird, especially since Don hadn't said he'd be staying long. Finally, he thought about ordering a pizza, but the weather made him concerned about how long it would take to arrive. Realizing he was overthinking it, Donald quickly turned on the setup and grabbed two controllers.
"Sorry about that," Donald said, handing Don a controller. "My setup was disconnected. Don't you just hate it when your mom's cleaning and unplugs everything?"
Don didn't miss a beat, replying, "Can't relate. I didn't really grow up gaming much, aside from Call Of Responsibility."
Donald laughed nervously, kicking himself for making assumptions. He thought he'd made things awkward, but Don added, "I'm really interested in starting, though. I hope it's not an inconvenience showing the ropes."
Donald's face lit up with excitent. "No problem at all!" he said, perhaps a bit too eagerly. Realizing this, he coughed to play it cool. "I an, it's no problem at all. I'll definitely help you get up to speed before the school league opens."
Once the gaming setup humd to life, with the holographic interface displaying a variety of options, Donald navigated through the nus, explaining each step to Don, who nodded along and took ntal notes.
They then started the process of creating Don's VR-FPS avatar and account. As Donald typed in the necessary information, a browser window suddenly popped up, displaying a rather questionable site filled with muscular naked won.
Donald's face turned beet red as he scrambled to close the window. "That's, uh... not supposed to be there," he stamred.
Don simply smirked, trying not to laugh. "I won't judge. Everyone has their tastes."
"Yeah, well, let's just forget that happened," Donald muttered, focusing back on the ga.
They went through the customization options for Don's avatar. Don chose a simple but intimidating look: a black balaclava with a skull imprint on it and a basic special ops attire.
"Why the skull mask?" Donald asked curiously.
"It's from a character I liked in an old ga I used to play," Don replied nonchalantly.
Once they finished creating the avatar, Donald handed over the credentials to Don. "You can log in with these whenever you want. Since you don't have a VR-Pod of your own, you can use mine. The ones at school will likely be packed most of the ti, and the only way to get one of your own is to rank in the top 100 after the sester ends."
Don nodded, appreciating the information. "Thanks, Donald. I'll definitely take you up on that."
With the account setup done, Donald hesitated before asking. "You want to try out a few gas or sothing?" he finally asked.
Don considered it for a mont. It would look bad if he left imdiately after creating the account, and he could sense that Donald wanted to spend more ti together. "Sure," Don agreed, picking up the controller. "Let's see what you've got."
They played for just over thirty minutes, the sound of gunfire and explosions filling the room. Don found himself genuinely enjoying the experience. For a brief mont, he felt like a normal guy again, free from the constant calculations and life-or-death situations that had been plaguing him recently. He even began to wonder if this was what life could be like—simple, straightforward, and fun.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, his phone buzzed, pulling him back to reality. He paused the ga, and then checked his phone. It was a text from Amanda: *Food's ready Doonie, get your ass ho.*
Donald noticed Don checking his phone and asked, "Is it sothing important?"
Don stood up, putting his phone away. "No, just my aunt. She's done with lunch, so I've got to head back."
Donald seed a bit disappointed, but he forced a smile. "Sure, man. I'll walk you out. Don't want Rex getting any ideas."
Don chuckled. "Yeah, that might be a good idea. Thanks for helping set up the account."
They made their way to the front door, with Rex eyeing Don warily as they passed by. Donald walked him to the gate, offering a quick goodbye before Rex could start growling again.
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