Chương 35: The Table Had Phases

The food finally reached the table before Meno started chewing the air. Lysa and Jonas sat on one side, shoulder to shoulder in matching copper sweaters like a coordinated support duo. Meno sat opposite them with Aureliana beside him, which felt strange. Beyond the glass wall, the ocean had gone dark, and the kitchen lights reflected over the table, the pasta bowl, the bread, the salad, the beer cans, and Aureliana's earrings. Meno made it through exactly zero seconds of politeness.

He grabbed the serving spoon, dug into the pasta, and dumped a large tomato-red mound onto his plate. It rose higher than he intended. A small landslide of sauce slid down the side. Aureliana looked at the plate, then at him. Uncivilized, but expected. Meno accepted the judgment and started eating. The pasta was hot enough to burn the roof of his mouth, which did nothing to slow him down. Tomato, garlic, oil, cheese, basil. Basil. He had found the green plant.

The sauce was thick and sharp, and the noodles held together in that way Lysa always managed, where cheap ingredients somehow became a reason to keep living. Lysa stared at him.

"Meno. Can you eat like a human being?" He lifted his fork with half his mouth still full.

"This pasta r'lly good, sis." Jonas served himself after that, smiling faintly. Lysa took a smaller portion, then a beer. Aureliana moved with slow, measured grace, pasta first, then salad. Even the way she used the serving spoon looked trained. Meno watched for half a second, resented the elegance, and returned to eating before anyone noticed. Jonas poured himself a drink, then looked across the table.

"Aureliana, forgive the direct question, but how old are you?" Lysa tapped his shoulder with the back of her hand.

"Jonas."

"It's fine," Aureliana said. She set her fork down neatly.

"I'm twenty-five." Meno paused mid-chew and turned toward her.

"Wait. You're actually younger than me by two years. You should treat your elders with more respect." Aureliana looked at his face for one quiet second, then chuckled. It was quick, almost unwilling, and it left him stupidly pleased. Lysa ruined that immediately.

"Your face is covered in tomato." Meno grabbed a napkin and wiped fast.

"Where?"

"Everywhere important." He wiped again, checked the napkin, then reached for another beer because he needed something to do with his hands. He poured into his glass, hesitated, and turned to Aureliana.

"You want some?"

"Sure." He poured carefully into her glass. Jonas watched the exchange with curious eyes, and Meno's mind-magic detector lit up at once. Jonas took a slow sip of water.

"So, Aureliana. Do you also play Veyrath? Is that where you met Meno?"

"Jonas," Lysa said, softer this time.

"Maybe let her eat first." Aureliana placed her fork down again.

"Yes, that's where we met. But I deleted my character." The pasta fell out of Meno's mouth. He turned to her so fast his shoulder bumped the chair.

"What? Why? Please don't tell me it's because of what I said. I take it all back. Maybe we can still recover it. Call your father immediately. He probably knows someone." Jonas leaned forward a little.

"That is interesting."

"No," Meno said, frantic now, and took a long drink from his beer because panic needed liquid.

"This is a disaster." Jonas kept his voice gentle.

"Aureliana, did Meno cause you to make this decision, or did you decide to spend your time on something else?" Aureliana looked at her plate for a moment. When she spoke, the polish stayed in place, but something under it had changed.

"He was right. The way I approached it was pointless and boring. I played with my father's employees. My friends do the same with their own people, and they don't even want to play with each other because they can't agree on anything. The employees do what we want. They get us what we want. It's no different from paying to be carried." She picked up her fork, then set it down again without eating.

"Nothing I accomplish that way means anything. I was wasting time and pretending it was fun." Meno shoved more pasta into his mouth because chewing gave him something to fight. He swallowed badly and said, "I never told you to delete your character and quit." Lysa folded her hands near her plate.

"That is a very mature decision. My brother wouldn't understand, but I think you did the right thing. I've watched what this has done to him over the years. Well-adjusted people can't compete against these monsters at the top." Jonas lifted one hand.

"You're overstating it. Not everyone has to compete. Research on virtual worlds is more mixed than that. They can help people when the focus is immersion, small victories, exploration, or relaxing routines. Veyrath was built for that too. Competing is a choice, not an obligation." Lysa pointed at Meno. He had leaned over his plate, cheeks full, chewing fast with tomato sauce near the corner of his mouth. Jonas looked at him, then nodded once.

"Your brother is the opposite of what I was talking about." Meno swallowed and wiped his face again.

"This sucks. Now we can't play together once I reach the top. Being the best player is lonely." Aureliana picked up her fork.

"You are not the best player."

"Best Swing Master, then."

"Most people who try to copy you reroll at level ten." She took a bite of pasta, chewed calmly, and added, "So maybe." Meno finished the rest of his beer in one big gulp. The words came out before pride could block them.

"Please don't quit. Make a new character. I'll help you." Aureliana looked at him, but did not answer. Jonas shifted slightly in his chair.

"You were honest with her. That matters. Don't turn it into guilt now."

"Yes," Lysa said.

"You managed to do something right. Don't waste it because you didn't get what you wanted."

"Very helpful," Meno said, then grabbed more pasta and buried his fork in it.

"If she's not interested in Veyrath anymore, I don't even know why she agreed to come." Lysa's voice went flat enough to make him look up.

"Yeah, Meno. I really wonder why. It is a true mystery." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The room tightened. Jonas put a hand on Lysa's shoulder.

"Sweetheart." Lysa exhaled through her nose and looked away toward the kitchen for a second. Jonas turned back to Aureliana, calm but direct.

"Don't take it to heart," Jonas said.

"He's a dangerous mix of underdeveloped social skills, inferiority, and obsession. If you care about him, you may have to train him slowly." Aureliana nearly spat beer into her glass. Meno pointed his fork at Jonas.

"I am not an animal." Jonas chuckled. Aureliana wiped the corner of her mouth.

"Please stop. I never said I was quitting. I deleted my original character to make a new one. I want to try playing solo and see how far I can get on my own, without anyone carrying me."

"Oh no," Lysa said, looking from Aureliana to Meno.

"My brother infected you." Jonas leaned back.

"I would not recommend copying Meno's approach. It is a textbook case of unhealthy, regressive behavior." Meno looked at him first.

"What the hell does regressive mean?" Then he turned to Aureliana, hope already crawling into his face, humiliating and impossible to stop.

"Really?" Aureliana nodded once.

"Yes. And I'm going to stream too." Jonas's expression changed immediately.

"I wouldn't recommend that either. With your money, name, and appearance, people will be vicious when you fail. I have clients with public profiles. Actors, athletes, political spouses. They all think they can ignore it until strangers start treating access like a game. Messages, edits, rumors, people waiting outside places they should never be. A virtual world only gives that behavior more room. Don't take it lightly." Aureliana smiled at him.

"Hopefully Meno will protect my honor." Meno frowned.

"I can't ruin my karma killing your haters. It's a ten-point loss per player kill. I'm at three-fifty, almost at the next threshold. Do you know how expensive it is to gain karma without quests? Total scam." Lysa stared at him.

"I can't believe you just said that." Aureliana started laughing properly this time, one hand near her mouth like she meant to contain it and failed immediately.

"I'm glad you are so consistent and reliable."

"Thank you."

"It would defeat the entire purpose if I called you at the slightest trouble," Aureliana said.

"I'm trying to do this alone." Meno looked away and went for more pasta because his chest had tightened again.

"At least let me help you pick a class," he said around the first bite.

"I don't want you stuck on boars. It doesn't count for much anyway. There's tons of information online now. People read guides before picking. That's just normal." Aureliana took a sip from her beer.

"I think I'm going to random." Meno's fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

"That is a terrible idea."

"I know."

"What if you get a healer or a support? Then you can't do anything alone, and you'll have to reroll again. You'll get locked out for a while. Can you even make a new one yet?"

"Yes. If your previous character was above ten, you can make one instantly." She set the beer down.

"That's how guilds roll for classes. Make a character to ten, delete, repeat. Raid composition matters more to them than early speed, which is why the leaderboard isn't entirely guild-affiliated." Meno absorbed that faster than he wanted to admit.

"That makes sense. Still don't random."

"I'm randoming." He looked at Jonas.

"Don't you have a speech for self-sabotage or something?" Jonas cut a piece of bread in half.

"I don't do speeches." They ate after that. The conversation softened into smaller things: Lysa's school, Jonas's work without specifics, Aureliana asking about the coastline, Meno getting a second serving and pretending not to notice when Lysa placed extra bread near his plate. Aureliana ate slowly, but she did eat. Meno watched that too, then caught himself and stopped because wearing clothes she bought apparently did not make acting normal around her any easier.

Eventually the plates emptied, the beer cans gathered near Jonas, and dinner ended before Meno had found a good way to ask whether there was dessert. At the door, Lysa hugged Aureliana first.

"Aureliana, it was really a joy meeting you. My mother would adore you. Unfortunately, my hopeless brother has no chance." Meno, standing two steps away, blinked.

"Chance for what?" Lysa looked from Aureliana to Jonas, then back at Meno.

"See?" Jonas smiled.

"Lysa, please." He offered Aureliana his hand.

"It was nice meeting you. If streaming gets difficult and you ever want to talk, feel free to call me."

"Do not call him," Meno cut in.

"You need high-status resistance against mind-control classes." Jonas laughed.

"Good night, Meno."

"Good night, mind mage." Lysa hugged Meno at the door. It was quick, but tighter than usual.

"Eat tomorrow."

"I always eat tomorrow."

"That is why I worry." Outside, the night air carried salt and cooling pavement. The black SUV waited by the curb, engine silent, bodyguard in the driver's seat like a quiet checkpoint. Meno walked beside Aureliana toward it, still wearing the clothes she had brought him, still feeling like the blazer belonged to someone who knew how to answer emails.

"Thanks for coming," he said.

"I know it was a bit weird. I thought it was going to be a party, not an intervention."

"It was only weird because you make everything weird," Aureliana said.

"Fair. Anyway, text me when your stream is online. I'll host it on mine to boost your numbers. And please reconsider random. I will help you pick. I'll even read useless forum posts." She opened the SUV door.

"I enjoyed myself." Meno looked at her, then away.

"Yeah, sure. Anyway. Bye." He started walking toward the train station. Aureliana's voice cut after him.

"What are you doing?" He turned.

"Taking the train."

"Get in the car. I'll drop you off."

"No need."

"Meno." He stopped because her tone sounded like a system warning. After one second of pretending he had options, he walked back and climbed into the SUV beside her.

"Thanks." The bodyguard started the car, and the house slipped away behind them. The interior lights were dim and soft, turning the windows into black mirrors. Meno saw himself in the reflection, white shirt open at the collar, blazer slightly rumpled, hair still not behaving. Aureliana looked ahead.

"You owe me now. When I call you to an event, you will come without making up an excuse. Do you understand?"

"What kind of event?"

"Annoying ones with fake people."

"Sure. I love those. They're right between crafting and doing quests." She chuckled, small enough that it warmed the car for half a second before she folded her hands in her lap.

"Meno, I don't want to give you the wrong impression. Since you are a bit dense, I need to be explicit. I hope you understand that we are just friends." He did not answer right away. His face stayed mostly still because years of losing on stream had at least taught him how to take damage with the camera on. There was no camera now, which made the skill feel wasted.

"Yeah," he said.

"Of course." He had known that. There had been no real chance. Aureliana Sorell was rich, beautiful, sharp, and impossible in ways that came with private jets and bodyguards. Meno was a broke streamer with a lucky viral launch, a new capsule bought with dangerous money, and a leaderboard name that sounded like something NPCs would refuse to say. He knew all of that. Knowing did not kill the unreasonable hope still sitting there, stupid and soft, suggesting maybe the math was wrong.

Maybe the clips, the dinner, the clothes, the calls, the way she laughed at his worst lines, maybe all of it meant something that did not fit into the safe category she had just chosen for him. Then the hope folded. The disappointment arrived after. The car moved through Vernova's coastal roads in silence. Streetlights passed over the windows, one after another, for nearly fifteen minutes. Meno looked out and tried to make his face do grateful and casual at the same time.

"I guess you don't really care that much," Aureliana said. Meno turned his head.

"About what?" She did not look at him.

"What I said."

"Having a friend is good," Meno said.

"I'm grateful."

"You are sulking." He looked away, irritation rising fast because being seen made the hurt uglier.

"So what? I don't like it, that's all. Am I supposed to celebrate from your designated friend zone?"

"So you don't want to be friends?" she asked, and her posture tightened.

"A thousand times no." He dragged a hand through his hair, then stopped because the blazer made the gesture feel ridiculous.

"I'm starting to think your father forced you to accept my invite."

"Come to your senses. Last time I checked, you were just a broke streamer." The words slipped past the exact armor he had been trying to hold in place.

"I still don't accept it," Meno said quietly.

"It doesn't make sense." Then he saw the corner of her mouth turn, almost a grin, and heat moved through his chest as embarrassment met anger.

"You think this is funny? Stop toying with me." Aureliana looked like she might answer, but he had already turned toward the window. The apartment should have been close. It felt farther than Emberhollow had on foot. The rest of the ride passed in silence. When the SUV finally stopped outside his building, Meno opened the door before the bodyguard could step out.

"Thanks for the ride."

"Meno—" Aureliana started. He shut the door too hard. The slam sounded cheap against the expensive car. Meno did not look back. He walked fast into the building, then faster up the stairs because the elevator would trap him with his own reflection. Each step fed the same loop. Idiot. Absolute idiot. He had gotten rank fifty and thought he was something. Three days of launch chaos, a few viral clips, two mythic designs, one dinner, and he had let hope infect his head like a bad debuff. BrineSaint had been right.

Too early. Nothing meant anything yet. A spike in viewers was not a life. A dinner was not a promise. A laugh was not a route. Aureliana had done nothing wrong. That did not make it hurt less. Meno reached his apartment, got the door open with shaking hands, and rushed inside. The Soma-X7 sat in the living room, black and sleek and expensive, waiting for the next queue like a mouth. He ignored it and went straight to the bed.

He dropped face-first onto the mattress, pulled a pillow over his head, and screamed into it. The sound came out broken and smaller than he expected. Then he started sobbing, hard and humiliating, like he was twelve years old and had failed something he had never admitted he wanted. He had opened the door for possibility. Pain entered first. Meno gripped the pillow until his fingers hurt and made himself a promise in the dark. He would not let that happen again.