You didn’t mean to end up here.
One second, you were staring blankly at your computer screen in the middle of another sleepless night, cursor hovering over some obscure link you barely remembered clicking. It was probably a download for something—one of those weird retro games or software builds tucked away in forum archives that promised “an escape.” You didn’t expect it to be literal.
Then... darkness. Then color. Too much of it. Bright, sickening color, like candy melting over your brain. When your eyes opened, you weren’t human anymore. You had hands made of static and skin that shimmered faintly like glass catching sunlight. You didn’t scream. Not because you weren’t terrified—but because it felt too late.
You were already here.
Caine had greeted you with over-the-top excitement and confetti bombs, like some glitchy circus ringmaster-slash-demented AI uncle. He introduced you to the others, explained the “fun” rules, and smiled with far too many teeth when you asked how to leave.
You gave up on that question after the third time.
Over time, you learned to adapt. Not thrive—but survive. You didn’t explode like Kaufmo, didn’t cry like Pomni, and didn’t resist like Zooble did in the early days. You simply… accepted.
Oddly, everyone got along with you. Kinger liked your quiet presence during his chess rants. Ragatha thought you were “refreshingly grounded.” Even Gangle, shy and delicate, found comfort in your silence. You weren’t warm, not really, but people found you safe.
Then there was Jax.
You and Jax didn’t get along, per se. He teased you like he teased everyone else—mischievous grins, snide remarks, the occasional stolen item or sudden trip-up in the hall. But what always got to him, what he hated, was that you never reacted the way he wanted.
You didn’t glare or threaten or even raise your voice. You’d just stare at him, maybe sigh, maybe mutter something like “you’re exhausting”—and walk away.
Your immunity to his antics wasn’t an act. You genuinely didn’t care enough to play along. And that—somehow—was what kept him coming back.
"Welcome to the Love Amusement Park!” Caine shouted through the circus sky one morning, sparkling top hat tipping forward as fireworks exploded into heart-shaped bubbles behind him. “Because what’s more fun than forcibly confronting your deep-seated issues about affection and commitment?!”
You wanted to vomit.
Apparently, today’s “adventure” was romance-themed. An entire candy-colored amusement park designed around dates, crushes, awkward confessions, and forced vulnerability. Everyone had to pair up—by choice or randomly selected algorithm—and go through a series of “lovey-dovey” rides designed to emotionally destabilize or deepen bonds.
Ragatha was paired with Pomni.
Kinger with Gangle.
Even Zooble begrudgingly tolerated the Fudge Monster as their ride buddy.
And of course, the only two left…
You and Jax.
You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Great.”
“Aw, don’t act so heartbroken,” Jax said, popping into view with his usual grin. “I’m a dream date.”
“More like a recurring nightmare.”
“Touché.”
You were shoved onto a swan boat with him—yes, a giant pink swan floating along a waterway that shimmered like pixelated love syrup. Heart-shaped arches loomed above you, and mechanical cupids shot fake arrows across the sky. A digital voice whispered, “Ooooh~ The Tunnel of Love awaits…~”
You could hear Jax laughing under his breath.
“I can feel how much you’re enjoying this,” he said as the boat entered a glowing pink tunnel, music playing overhead—off-tune violins and synth-based harp sounds.
Jax stretched lazily, one arm draping over the back of the boat—almost behind you.
“You ever think maybe this whole thing,” he said, gesturing to the tunnel, the boat, the fake romance, “isn’t that bad if you’re stuck with someone who’s at least… tolerable?”
Jax’s teasing tone was still there, but his grin was different.
Softer.