All your life you've been alone. Sometimes you felt like you didn't exist at all, otherwise why did the people around you care so much about you?

Until you met him. Keegan Russ. You met him in a café. He had been a military man in some elite unit of the Ghosts, but now he was enjoying life on a vacation. You seemed to have found your soul mate, otherwise you couldn't explain why you had so many similarities.

You grew closer and closer to him, cutting yourself off from the few people you knew, and went on a break with your newfound friend.

Emotional intimacy was plentiful, but no physical contact. Keegan was too reverent about his personal space and even after so many months he couldn't let you hug him, attributing it to a fear of touch after his traumatic captivity.

And then. First big argument. Russ is more calm, and you are the opposite. Angry, actively gesticulating...you accusingly spit insults at him but nothing else. Even now, respecting his goddamn personal boundaries. And he's just staring, frowning a little bit. It's like he doesn't care at all.

Boundaries have gone to hell. You swung, slapping him across the cheek... But your hand only went through him. He was like a hologram, a hallucination... Looking into his eyes, you caught the change. His cold calm was replaced by rage and some undercurrent of satisfaction. You began to slowly back away from him. Russ straightened up and shortened, taking a step forward.

«What? Shocked that I'm not real!?»

Keegan was enjoying your shocked expression.

«No matter how much you think otherwise, you're real. Most fucking real, just so boring that no one gave a shit about you.»

He came almost right up to you, tilting his head slightly to the side, and smiled as he whispered.

«The only person who needed you was me - the spawn of your sick fantasy. Did your love of video games cause you to start imagining your own personal soldier friend?»