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4.28% Synchronicity: We and Her / Chapter 11: Chapter 11: No One Else But Me… a Robot, Part 2

Bab 11: Chapter 11: No One Else But Me… a Robot, Part 2

Oh, that reminds me of yet another shameful past of mine.

Sure, I didn't ogle at girls, but going after a girl… and dissing her supposed boyfriend right in front of his face… was the epitome of shamelessness.

It all started back in middle school.

I… was pretty delusional when it came to crushes and girlfriends.

I just nominated a girl whom I was smitten with, like she was nominated for the Oscars, and declared it loudly to my immediate class.

That was it.

No further actions of courtship needed.

I didn't care if other classmates would laugh at me for my delusional decisions.

What I cared about at that time was that I would want to stay in love, for if I didn't, no inspirations would help my studies.

Other girls didn't mind if they were nominated by me as my "crushes" or "girlfriends".

They would just laugh it all off, anyway.

But a girl named Tamara… she was a cut above the rest.

She had above-average grades, she was a standout in extracurricular activities…

...and she was engaged to a guy named Dylan.

Of course, jealousy prevailed within me, so I had to do something to besmirch his name… without him knowing it… and have Tamara land into my arms in no time.

My plan to take down Dylan would involve the 12th letter of the alphabet.

I would hand him a cardboard cutout of the letter "L" whenever he did a goof-up, no matter how big or small it was.

Whenever he tripped on something, I gave him an L.

Whenever he failed an oral quiz, I gave him an L.

Whenever he missed that shot in basketball, I gave him an L.

Great! Tamara was noticing that her BF was taking so many Ls, courtesy of yours truly.

But what I didn't know…

...is that she saw through my devious plans to snatch her from him, and thus she stopped playing games.

She decided to fight fire with fire.

Meaning, every time I screwed up, I would receive a cardboard cutout L.

Whenever I made a typo in typing a document, she would give me an L.

Whenever I mispronounced a foreign word or a scientific term, she would give me an L.

Whenever I committed a foul in basketball, especially if the target of my intentional foul was none other than Dylan himself… she would give me an L.

Great… now my plan backfired.

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

And thus, one day, after school, I angrily confronted Tamara, as she was holding hands with Dylan at that time.

"Tamara! After going through all the lengths to notice me, you still have the gall to cling onto your useless boyfriend?!"

"And what of it? He's the one for me, not you!"

"Mark my words! Someday, you'll dump him or he'll dump you… and you will then realize… you're taking a big, big L yourself! And now, you must receive one right now. This is a very special L. I saved it specifically for you. Go on. Take it. Take the L. It's yours. It was always yours. Figure out what you'll do with it later."

"I'll never take that L… YOU CERTIFIED LOSER!"

"NO, NO, NO! You're not doing it right!!!!! You don't get one anymore. You took the L a long time ago when your mom gave birth. Now go! Receive that newly-minted L. It's not just your L from your mom a long time ago. You deserve it. It's all yours."

Her blood boiled to an incendiary degree, and thus she did what she had to do.

Angrily connect her palm to my cheek before leaving.

Man, that left quite a mark, didn't it?

That was when I realized… my shamelessness in approaching girls was never gonna get me a fully-committed partner for life.

Tamara… I hope you're happy now, wherever you are.

***

With my soliloquy over, I then ask him, "Know anything that might have caused his chronic ogling in the first place?"

"Ah, that? Laurent and I actually hired a private investigator. We just pooled our prior knowledge of him with the investigator's findings, and…"

A girl suddenly enters the picture.

And it's the same girl we saw outside the Japanese restaurant earlier!

And she's weeping, prompting Vic the bouncer to console her.

Once she's had enough crying, Vic then turns her over to Laurent and Dax.

While Dax consoles her, Laurent is ready to give his side of the story.

"Alright. I believe it's time to divulge everything I know about Mr. Otto Sarthou to you. You're a trustworthy man, after all."

***

Otto Sarthou. Born June 1, 1984 here in Atlanta.

He has a long way to go before he could reach retirement age, as he's still developing mobile apps as a freelance developer nowadays, but his drive… wow. Just wow. That drive of his can never retire ever.

His virility is infamous here in this little corner of Atlanta.

There are rumors he can last for hours and he will still be as strong as a tree.

And that is why he posted discreet advertisements to women who are… thirsty, if you know what I mean – because he can satisfy them without losing too much of that virility of his.

But over time, he wasn't satisfied with just one-shot encounters.

He wanted something more.

And thus, in recent days, after he is done satisfying his clients, he then proposes women to be his girlfriend, simply because he's desperate for love.

The women usually say no, but Otto here still persists, and even threatens them to delete their own contact lists, except for his own contact info.

Thus, they had no choice but to run away.

From what I've read on online forums, it seems Otto mistook "casual encounters" for "friends with benefits", most likely due to his prior history of ogling girls and having hidden desires aimed at them and getting himself drowned in delusions related to these.

And many of those women fall for the friends-with-benefits setup because he always chats with them, and those "encounters" only happen on weekends.

I personally believe it's a red flag if he wants to delete their contacts; it's just too obvious that he wants to control them.

In the end, he isn't looking for a long-term committed relationship, period. All those setups he did prove that he's being so possessive, and it's the culmination of the delusions I've mentioned earlier.

***

In simple terms, Otto Sarthou wants women to fall for no one else but him… a robot.

A robot whose programming consists of nothing but basal desires, without the integration of the constant of love whatsoever.

If I was that delusional in terms of love, he is a million times worse.

Because he never learned from his own mistakes ever.

Right when Dax has consoled the girl enough, Laurent instructs us.

"Better call 911 right now. Dax has just said to me that the girl definitely needs to be debriefed and counseled. And once the results of the debriefing and counseling are out, then we can all take action. We can't just let love get tainted by the actions of one man, after all."

We three agree in unison… "Right!"

"But for now… go get some rest. We know justice mustn't be hurried, but it mustn't be delayed, either."

Following the bartender and barback's words, we three go home earlier than usual, as we need some rest before we can restore law and order to the overall landscape of love here in Atlanta.

And to de-stress ourselves while we are all sleep.

Once we all change into our sleepwear, we all agree to sleep in one bed.

This king-sized bed normally is more than enough for two, but three wouldn't hurt.

Aurora insists on trying to sleep alongside us.

And what's strange about her proposal…

...is that she wants to be sandwiched by the two of us, while we're all holding one another's hands.

This may seem like a tall order, but we just can't let this girl down.

After all, once we all formally slouch our bodies onto the bed, and Leigh and I sandwich Aurora's body as recommended, we two can feel relatively strong heartbeats that are being felt via the pulses of our linked hands.

Could it be that… we're both attracted to her?

Well, who wouldn't be…

With the silk negligee Leigh once wore but still fits like a glove on innocent little Aurora?

With the peaceful, content face Aurora emanates as she makes those slight breathing noises?

With the moonlight illuminated from the sky direct onto her face, as if she were the star of the night?

In the five years Leigh and I have been together, we haven't experienced this exact thing.

But we are willing to change given circumstances like this, and the changes we must enact must be for the betterment of our relationship.

Or maybe… she requested this special sleeping position in the first place… because we are all willing to solve a matter of the heart together, and we need to gather our own strengths.

Alright, enough philosophical mumbles.

Good night.


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