The Relationship Game

"There it is," Scott said, leaning in a little closer to his phone. "I knew I remembered it."

Scott wasn't sure where he found the app originally. A forum? Some popup? A tweet? Whatever it was, no combination of search strings dug it up again. All he remembered for sure was he'd been on his phone late at night, and his eyes stopping on the title:

The Relationship Game: Your Relationships, Gamified.

Now, a part of him knew there was at least an 80% chance of this being spam, a scam, or shovelware. But he was tired and bored, and something about the name of it caught his attention. So he tapped it, ignored the warning his phone gave for apps with an unknown source, downloaded and installed it.

But he had never ran the game—something had distracted him, if he remembered right. It was probably a call from his mom. She was the one paying for the phone, so he always dropped whatever he was doing and answered. She'd shut his account off before for letting it go to voicemail.

And then... hell, it had been a crazy week. Two research papers, 15 credits worth of classes, that time the whole apartment complex had gotten together for night games... and well, he might have spent a night or two (or three) unleashing his fury on the living dead with buddies online. He'd barely eaten anything that didn't come out of the microwave or a plastic seal. And he had to sleep sometime.

So with the whirlwind over, and the mindless hoards of homework and zombies both beaten back, Scott had been laying on his bed, counting the holes in the drop-down ceiling in his room when the memory of the Relationship Game flickered in his mind.

"Well, here goes," he muttered. "Please don't brick my phone."

He pressed the icon, a simple "RG" in black against a grey circle. As it fired up, the usual permissions screen appeared. Use your phone camera, yeah yeah, save pictures on your drive, sure, and...

Scott made a face. "'Access and edit your relationships?' Really?"

He tilted his head. Did it mean his contacts maybe? If so, he wasn't cool with that. It'd probably send them eight years of spam from him. Or maybe it was just a joke—part of the atmosphere of the game. He hesitated on it for a solid minute.

What the hell? He had like, fifteen people in his phone anyway. They'd get over it.

Acceptance given, the Relationship Game finally loaded.

"Wow," Scott muttered. "They need to fire whoever was in charge of the layout."

The presentation left something to be desired. It was mostly a cream color, or maybe very light gray. The center of the screen was dominated by what looked like a little gradient button-looking thing with the word "You" floating over it in bold, black letters. Several translucent lines radiated out from the button to the edge of the screen. In the upper left, there was a gray button that had a '?' in it, and in the upper right one that simply said 'Filter'.

Scott made a face. "Guess they had to save all their budget on hacking you." For the hell of it, he tapped the question mark. A little popup appeared.

Make interactions to earn experience and level up!

Status moves left today—

Points: 5 (permanent)

Exchanges: 2 (24 hours)

Randoms: 3 (long term)

Scott stared at it. Out of curiosity, he tapped the word "Randoms". It cleared the pop up, but nothing else happened. He tried again, and got the same result.

"The hell—" he started, ready to uninstall with extreme prejudice, but then there was a loud banging at his door. He rolled his eyes.

"It's open," Scott called.

His roommate Brad jerked the door open somewhere around the word "it's". Brad had the classic look of a guy who spent a good amount of time in the weight room, but had never quite brought himself to set foot on the treadmill. He was big, thick necked, and had his blond hair spiked up at a jaunty angle. His t-shirt looked uncomfortably small.

"Yo Scott," he rumbled, glowering down at him, "any way you could make yourself scarce tonight?"

Scott frowned. "Why?"

Brad shrugged. "Nothing, I just got my girlfriend coming over, and wanted a little space. Don't you have something to get you out of the house for the night?"

Scott sat up and gave him an incredulous look. "Brad, it's Tuesday, and I'm broke. What the hell exactly do you think I'd have going on on a night like tonight?"

"I dunno, a life maybe? Fine, whatever, look... just stay out of the living room for the next few hours, okay?"

Scott stared at him a moment, tight lipped. He blew out a short breath. "Fine, how long exactly? Until what time?"

Brad growled. "At least midnight."

"That's over five hours from now, Brad. You have to go through the living room to get to the kitchen, remember? You know, where the food is?"

"So? You've got plenty of shit in here, I've seen you taking it straight from the grocery store."

"That's only because *some*body thinks anything open in the cupboards is public property. I still have to keep most of my food out there, because it kinda needs to be in the fridge. How about 10? That's plenty of time for you to suck face for a while, and then take her back to your room for 'coffee.'"

"That's Kyle, and you know it," Brad said, face growing darker, "and I need at least—"

The doorbell rang, and Brad threw a quick glance to the right. "Fuck, fine, until 10. But you better keep your ass in this room, okay?"

Scott saluted him. "Yessir."

"Good," he said. "And I'll be using the TV." Brad slammed the door shut, and his footsteps faded down the hallway. A moment later, Scott heard the front door open.

Scott gritted his teeth. Using *my* TV, you mean, he thought. Thanks for asking.

He let out a growl in the back of his throat, and flopped down flat on the bed again. He lay there a moment, seething, reminding himself that roommates prepared you for life, because if you managed to not murder them, it was a landmark on the way to becoming a well-balanced adult. He glanced at his phone, and did a double take.

The name "Brad Sandy" had appeared above "You" on the screen, connected by one of those translucent lines. Slowly, Scott moved his hand over, and tapped the little round button underneath the name. It expanded out into a single line of text that read, "Roommate/thinks you're a douchebag." Then, appearing for just an instant, a line of text flashed in the upper right that read: "Settled differences without a fight. +1XP."

Scott stared. And then he sat up really fast. Now, it could have pulled Brad's name from his contacts, but the entry didn't have anything but the first name, a phone number, and a note that read "roommate" in case he forgot. He specifically remembered not putting Brad's last name, because after the first two weeks he had already been certain that once one of them moved out, he would never speak to him again.

A sudden laugh made Scott jump a little. It was Brad's girlfriend, he was pretty sure. She had a light, flirty laugh that carried through the thin walls. Scott glanced back at his phone, and noticed he'd accidentally pinched the middle area a little. Now the word "You" and "Brad Sandy" was a little smaller, and right next to Brad, connected to him by a thin dotted line, was the name Mariah Knight. He blinked, and then tapped on that, too. Again, a short line of text appeared:

"Roommate's girlfriend/doesn't remember your name"

After a moment, another dialog box appeared: "Use 'Random' on status? Yes/No/Cancel"

Scott's finger hovered. Had this appeared for Brad, and he just missed it? What did it mean to "use a Random" on a person's status? And, you know, how the hell did it know people's names and relationship to him?

"Maybe it's listening," he muttered. "Uses AI. But... Brad never said his girlfriends name. I... I'm not sure I even knew her last name. Can... can it tap his contacts, too?"

That didn't seem that likely to Scott, but weirder things had happened. But as he kept frowning, he suddenly shrugged. At this point, what the hell? Why not just see what happens? So he tapped "Yes" in reply to "Use 'Random' on status" and watched expectantly.

The text of Mariah's status suddenly started to spin with other phrases, like a tumbler from a slot machine, too fast for Scott to make them out. And then with a very quiet but clear 'ding', it stopped.

Under Mariah Knight it now read: "Secret sex friend/so hot for you right now"

Scott smiled indulgently. "Cute," he muttered, "but that's obviously too good to be—"

A girl's voice nearby cut him off. "—just down here, right?"

"Yeah, second door on the right," Brad called. "You want me to pause?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," she replied. "Just wait there for me for a bit. Thanks, babe!" Scott briefly heard a couple footsteps, and then a pause.

Then, quickly and quietly, his door jerked open, and a girl rushed inside, closing it silently behind her. Scott felt his mouth go open just a bit.

Mariah Knight glanced back at him, half turning his way, and smiled, putting a finger to her lips. She was a little over average height, had haystack blond hair that went just passed her shoulders, and a small, pointed chin and nose. She wore a "Monster's University" ball cap in royal blue that was slightly ripped on the bill, a pair of small horn-rimmed glasses, and a white t-shirt with words "Deathly Hallows" across it in black. Both the shirt and the bleached skinny jeans she wore hugged her well-established curves pretty tightly, enough so he could see the outline of her bra and the crack of her ass. Especially the ass, since she was was still bent over holding the door knob.

"Quick, before he gets suspicious," she whispered, grinning. She rushed over to him, and without hesitation, reached for Scott's basketball shorts, tugged down elastic waist along with his boxers, and pulled out his dick. It was already getting a semi. Before he could do more than say, "What—", she gave him a wicked smile and stuffed the head in her mouth.

Circumstances being what they were, Scott was rock hard by the time she'd bobbed up and down three times.

Her lips popped off. "Yes," she whispered, standing. "Oh, I need this so fucking bad." She unbutton her jeans and yanked them down, followed by her pink bikini panties. Scott let out a brief "I—" and caught a flash of her pussy, a line of pink under a bush trimmed down to a triangle of dirty blond, before she turned, and with her jeans still around her ankles, lined up his cock with a hand between her legs, and plunged down onto him.

"Oh, god," she groaned, and had to put a muffling hand over her mouth. "Oh, yes..."

Her ass was every bit as well shaped as they'd looked in those jeans, and she had two tiny freckles on her right buttcheak. Scott couldn't help but touch the spot with his fingers. The smoothness of the skin there seemed so hot it actually made him jerk his dick involuntarily.

Then Mariah started to work her hips. Her twat rose off his member smoothly, hovered with just an inch or so of it still inside her, and sank back down to take the full length. She took a deep breath. Then without warning, she started to flap her ass up and down, working his cock in and out in a frenzy. She arched her back, one hand reaching up inside her shirt to work a tit, and then other clamped on his thigh just above the knee in a death grip.

By now, Scott had both hands on her hips, enthusiastically thrusting into her from below so that her moans got harder and harder to muffle. The skin of her ass bounced off of him in her frenzy. Then she abruptly slammed down onto him hard and held it there, grinding on his dick.

"Oh god," she panted, her chest heaving, "so good."

"Tired?" he whispered. "I could take over."

She grinned at him. "Yeah, let's doggy fuck! Just slam that cock in me as hard and fast as you can!"

She slid off him, and started to get on the bed, but it was on risers, and the height made it difficult with her jeans still around her ankles. She let out a grow, kicked off her sandals, and bent over to tug the pants off the rest of the way. Then she grinned at him again and bounded up on the bed, lower half naked, and shoved her ass at him.

Scott didn't need more encouragement than that. He lifted her by the hips, lined her up, grabbed those sweet, smooth asscheaks and started to hammer inside.

Her breathing got faster and faster. She let out the tiniest squeak when he burrowed an inch or so of his thumb up her anus, and started thrusting back against him even harder. She reached back and grabbed his wrist, and their sex pounded together hard enough that a distinctly audible slapping noise filled the room. Her moans started to get louder and more frequent. She had to bend down and press her face into his pillow, pointing her ass a little higher.

Scott felt her pussy and her grip tighten, and he could see her ears going bright red. It was then that Scott realized he was mere seconds away from blowing his load inside her.

Flailing, he managed to yank his cock out of Mariah, and stroking with his free hand, shot four solid spurts and a dribble over her ass and back.

Mariah managed to pull herself away from the pillow, letting in a gasp of air. After a minute of panting, she flashed him a smile.

"Oh," she cooed, head arching back, eyes fluttering. "That was niiiice."

"I'll say," Scott said, and hesitated. "But why—"

"M?" Brad's voice called. "Everything okay?"

Mariah stiffened. "Oh god, gotta hurry," she muttered, and scrambled off of Scott's bed. She snatched up her jeans, hopping back and forth to get her feet in the right holes. She yanked them up, bouncing and straining a little to get those tiny skinny jeans all the way on, and then smoothly did up her buttons. The process had to have smeared Scott's fresh jizz all over her ass.

"K," she whispered, slipping into her sandals, "I've gotta quick sneak to the bathroom. It'd be weird if he didn't hear a flush, and besides, I have to wash up, maybe add a little extra perfume to mask someone shooting their spunk all over my backside." She gave him a cheeky smile. "Thanks for not getting it on my shirt, though."

With that, she turned and scooted quickly to the door, putting a hand on the knob. Scott opened his mouth to say something, but something on the floor caught his eye.

"Uh," he whispered, pointing. "I think you forgot something."

Mariah glanced back at him, and then followed his finger. Her damp, unceremoniously dropped panties lay there in crumpled wad. Her eyes widened. "Oh, shit... Well, no time for it now." She gave him a wide smile, and ran her tongue over her teeth. "I'll just grab them from you next time. Or you can just keep them as a souvenir, if you want."

With that she winked at him, opened the door a crack, and after peering through it a bit, slipped out. She left it just the slightest bit open. Scott just sat there, his cock still hanging out, listening as the sound of the toilet flushing came a minute or so later, and he heard Mariah walking loudly by, apologising to Brad for taking so long. His eyes wandered back to her wet, pink panties near the edge of his bed.

"Well," he said, trying to take it in. "That was... that was..."

Scott looked back at his phone. At some point during their piping hot fucking, it had been knocked a bit to one side, and the screen had turned off. He reached down, held it up to his face, and unlocked it.

After a moment, the Relationship Game clicked into focus. The line connecting him and Mariah looked a lot more solid, he thought, and when he tapped on her button, her status read: "Secret sex friend/riding the high, planning for next time."

Then, a series of popup messages rolled down the screen:

Cheated with a cheater. +1XP

Did the deed, quickie. +2XP

Granted orgasmic bliss, +3XP

Established first new relationship! +5XP

Level up!

Scott stared at that, and then tilted his head. "You know," he muttered, "I might have gone fucking crazy, but I think there might be something to this."

***

Scott got back to his room and shut the door. The quick trip to the restroom worked to relieve himself, but also gave a chance to splash his face in some cold water. His shirt collar was still damp with it. He paused, pressing his ear against the wall and listening to the sound of Mariah and Brad vigorously not watching the movie. Come to think of it, she hadn't even kissed him, had she? Frowning a little at that, he fished his phone out of his pocket.

The Relationship Game was still there. Definitely not a dream.

"Well," he said quietly, "then I better sure as hell figure this shit out."

Closing his door carefully behind, he marched over to his desk, and planted himself in his wobbly office chair. Then he got to work.

Just to cover his bases, he tapped on the question mark again. Sure enough, his 'Randoms' had gone down to two. He still had 5 'Points' and 2 'Exchanges' to try out. He x'd out of that—he wasn't quite sure to try another one of those yet. Especially because he only had the slightest idea what they were.

Instead, he next tapped on the little button under "You". The button rippled outward like a drop disturbing water, expanding out into a thick-lined, mostly-empty circle that filled the center of the screen. Scott had to admit that the animation was pretty cool. In the middle of the circle was the following information:

Scott Montgomery Wahlen

Lvl. 2

XP: 12

Next: 25

Titles: "Lucky Roller"

"Wham Bam Man"

Scott couldn't help but wince. Well, that settled it: this app was magical. He'd done his best to erase the existence of his middle name for years: he'd even had it legally removed. That's what happens when the cheery uncle you were named after turns out to be a pedofile.

Other than that, it didn't much clue what the object of this game was, or how to go about it. Tapping the screen anywhere only sucked the circle back to the center of again.

So, he tapped on the only other thing left: Filter. The produced a small drop-down menu with the following options: Proximity, Level, New, and Favorites. It had defaulted to Proximity, so he chose the next one on the list, Level.

The display jumped back to the main screen, and his "You" at the center shrank quickly. All around him, connected by thick black lines, were a lot of familiar names. His mother and father were top-center, his brother Rick and sister Chelsey just to the side of them, followed by some cousins and other relatives. At the bottom of the screen was his friend since 2nd grade, Charlie Rogers, who he had a gaming appointment with this weekend, a couple cool guys from his high school basketball team, and, bleh, two ex girlfriends. Their lines were the thinnest. After a moment, though, they shifted, and just slightly thicker, Mariah Knight appeared.

Scanning over them, he shrugged and tapped on his mother's button. Eleanor Langley Wahlen's status simply read: "Mother/worried about your life progress". But immediately under it was something a small note in parentheses: "(primary status cannot be altered)".

He frowned at that. He immediately tapped on his dad ("Father/hopes you start paying for more of your tuition soon") and he had the same message underneath. The same was true for Rick ("Brother/likes you, but thinks you're a slacker") and Chelsey ("sister/ thinks you'd probably figure things out if you just got laid a lot more often").

This told him a lot of things, actually. One was that, along with the list of his "status moves," the object and ability of the game was to alter his relationships. It sounded obvious now that he looked at it, but just assuming an app you downloaded has the power to change some facet of reality was too much of a leap for him to make without sitting down and doing a bit of math.

Also, most likely the part before the slash couldn't be changed for certain people—like his father couldn't be changed to not be his father, or anything, but maybe the second half could be improved. Someone like Mariah, with a thin relationship, however, had no problem going from "roommate's girlfriend" to "secret sex friend".