Can you keep up?

By Cayla Celis

The following piece includes content that includes descriptions of implied sexual assault and violence.

I wouldn’t say I’m one of those people blinded by nostalgia. I’m not one of those people who says the original movie was better after buying tickets to see its reboot premiere day. Fuck that shit, honest to god. I was raised to be the type who moves on. I mean, that’s the only way to survive in this life—with the way things are going, AI getting better and better at stealing real humans’ jobs. I’m just grateful I have a job right now at the arcade. It’s not much, but it’s something and tonight, it will be something that will take her breath away.

Right now, we’re in my car outside the arcade; I just parked. Even in the dark of night, the arcade's storefront letters glow an artificially pure white—egg-shelly I'd call it. She can’t see its glow though, not just yet—or at least I hope she can’t see it through the blindfold.

My heart pounds. This is it. I get out of my car, open her door (because I'm quite the gentleman), and guide her towards the arcade, just a step from the sidewalk. She follows the pull of my hand and does her best to keep up until I stop.

At last, I untie the blindfold and pull it off. Her cinnamon eyes squint against the lights until they stop and let the cinnamon swallow the surrounding black coffee.

"What— No way! The whole arcade just to ourselves?” Charlie squeals and laughs like someone in shock after winning the lottery..

What can I say, my girl is such a dork. But she's my dork.

Then she turns to me, confused. "Wait, how are we going to play without—"

"Cards?" I take out our game cards from my pocket and hold them up, the flimsy plastic cards with neon branding glint in the streetlights. "I charged them with a shit ton of credits. Go crazy tonight baby."

After so many thank you's and a very cobra-tight hug, I unlock the door, and we go in.

Despite the arcade’s outside glow, it's dark when we get in. I use my phone flashlight to walk towards the switches that turn on each row of machines.

Flick,

flick,

flick and then they're on and as loud as the daytime, when the arcade is filled with fucking hyperactive kids, the confused parents following them, and the teens who think they can impress their dates with their mid gaming skills. Lame crowds for sure, but at least there’s none of that shit here.

We pass right by the many shooter games. Charlie doesn’t like them, especially the one with the creepy-ass head and red eyes that flash every other second. Instead, we play everything else—the untranslated fighter games imported from Japan with the busty anime girl characters, racing games with the bikini girl announcers, and that 80's arcade game where you help Mario save a ginger instead of a blonde. To be honest, she sucks at a lot of the games, but she’s having a good time playing, and that’s all that matters to me. Tonight is a good night—no, scratch that—tonight is the perfect night.

Then she gasps, pulling me along with her as she runs to the secluded corner of the arcade that I usually avoid.

I freeze. In front of me is a Jump Bump Fiesta machine, the old rhythm game that just got transferred here a month ago. I forget why it moved here in the first place—something to do with its old home wanting to attract less people that belong to a nursing home. Probably not the most corporate-friendly way to describe it, but I’d say it’s a pretty accurate description.

The thing is, why move it here? Why not anywhere else? It’s been fuck knows how long since I've played a machine like it, and I want to keep it that way. Seeing the machine in all its scratches and scuff marks reminds me too much of her, the way we were at least. Seeing it makes me want to curl up and hide and run far away. But it's okay, I'm okay. I’m different now.

I have to be different now.

“Alex, you ok?”

I snap out of it and nod, I'm making a big deal out of this stupid shit. Stop being scared, nervous, pussy, weird about this, just … don't play. “Yeah. You wanna play?”

“Of course! And you’ll play with me, right?” Charlie’s eyes twinkle with hope like stars in the night sky, her smile like a rotated crescent moon. For another game, I would easily give into her demands, but my nerves restrain me, keeping me on a leash.

“Well, I’m not really good at this game. Last time I played, I cut my hand somehow.”

Charlie giggles. “Alex, I wasn’t good at any of the other games. I sucked hard, and you don’t have to lie, because I know I did. But that’s okay because I’m spending time with you, and that’s enough.”

I sigh. The thing is, I actually agree with her on this. Her attitude is the reason why I love her so much (though it helps a bit that she sucks more at video games than me). But I can’t play. I can’t.

“Look, maybe another time? I mean, why do you want me to play so badly in the first place? So you can beat me and rub it in my face?”

“What—no! It’s just…you know how much I love this game, and with work getting busier, I won’t have as much time as before to be with you. I just want to enjoy something with you. Please, will you play it with me? We can just play one round and then go do something else. Please?”

Playing one round might be alright…maybe. “...okay, fine.”

We get on the dance platform, her on the right side and me on the left. I wince at the familiar bright screen, the annoyingly high-pitched voice of the anime girl mascot on the screen chanting over and over “Can you keep up with the beat?”.

Meanwhile, Charlie squeals at the screen. “Ooh! It doesn’t ask us for any credits!”

I find it odd and squint to take a closer look. Weird, it actually isn’t asking for payment. None of the games here are supposed to do that. There has to be a mistake.

Before I can stop her, Charlie presses the start button, and the screen begins displaying the tutorial. To my disappointment, Charlie doesn’t skip it.

The anime girl mascot Kita appears again with her visor pressed against her white blonde hair and bright green tennis outfit and her stupid bright blue eyes. Seeing her makes me sick. Why did I agree to play this? I wish I wasn’t here at all.

“Hey dancers! Glad you decided to join our fiesta! To dance with us, you’re allowed three songs…” She spouts the usual bullshit about choosing songs and difficulties, and pressing buttons to the beat.

“And remember to keep up with the beat!” God, she’s so damn annoying. I’ve never wanted to punch someone—I mean something—that much before.

Up.

Right,

Left,

Right,

Right,

Down.

Center.

Charlie quickly taps the buttons under her feet, navigating the screen to display the game's full song catalog. She picks one and then taps the down button a few times to pick the highest difficulty possible. She looks at me to choose my difficulty. “Trust me, Alex, you’re going to need to be on the lowest difficulty to survive on this song,” she says with a wink.

I scoff, “Whatever,” but I simply comply, so she won’t be suspicious. I’ve played this song a million times in all difficulties, but she doesn’t have to know that.

She can’t know that and she won’t.

We start the song differently: Charlie grips the metal bar behind her tight while I slouch in boredom. Well, at least for the first forty five seconds. Halfway into the song, Charlie is still doing decent enough, but I’m barely managing to survive this round, which has to be fucking impossible for this song on the easiest level. Anyone with a leg and a brain cell could do this level and get a perfect score, which is why I don’t understand why I’m getting only bad marks for every arrow I hit, even though I tap the buttons perfectly without a single delay.

Bad. Bad.

Bad.

Bad.

Bad.

Bad.

When we’re done, Charlie looks at me all amused. “Dang, didn’t think you sucked this hard.”

I barely keep my cool. I’m bad, huh? I’ll show you bad, you piece of shit machine.

Charlie lets me pick the next song out of pity.

I pick a song out, a song that I know I know. I pick medium difficulty, and although Charlie raises her eyebrows, she doesn’t say anything else. It’s a good choice, and once it plays, I nod my head to its la-la-la’s out of muscle memory. I do pretty well with perfect marks at first, until the screen suddenly goes black. We are left alone with just the sounds of the other loud arcade machines for a bit until Kita pops back up on the screen again. It’s then that the other arcade machines fall silent.

Kita speaks with a distorted voice, her eyes glowing red and her smile twisted like a Cheshire cat’s. “I see you. I see what you really are. And yet, you’d rather pretend that you’re something other than what you really are: absolute shit. But if you want to keep playing that game, we can play.”

Charlie looks all panicked. Serves her right for picking this stupid fucking game. “I don’t think this is normal,” she says.

It isn’t, but I can’t tell her the truth. “Maybe it’s just a glitch. Old games get messed up all the time.”

“I am no glitch. If you love your girlfriend, make her step off the game and no one gets hurt,” Kita bellows.

“W-why? Why are you doing this? Please let both of us go,” Charlie begs. I just want to curl up and die.

“I have something that I have to settle with him. It’s best if you don't get in the way.”

“Let him go! Alex is a good person!”

“Do not make me hurt you."

“I-I made us play the game! If you were to hurt someone, wouldn’t it make sense to hurt me instead?”

Kita’s eyes flash bright red. "Sorry, but I asked nicely."

The dance platform suddenly jolts, violently shaking Charlie off her balance and making her fall to the ground and curl up in pain. I try to reach for Charlie, but my feet suddenly feel cemented to the platform as if it was covered in superglue. I pull my foot hard—harder—until I’m suddenly released and I trip across the cold metal platform.

Kita continues. “So here’s how this is going to go. You have three tries to get a perfect score on this song in the highest difficulty possible. Each time you fail, I reveal something about you. If you fail all three times, I will tell her exactly what you are.”

“Who are you to say what I am?”

“I suppose that may be true. Well, perhaps you don’t have to play. You can walk away from here if and only if you tell her exactly what you are.”

“She knows exactly what I am, and if I need to play to prove that, I will.”

“So be it.”

The screen flashes to the starting screen of the song. The first notes come up. I hit them with a breeze. It’s easy, all too easy.

At least for the first thirty seconds. Soon the screen fills up with stacks of arrows, so crowded that I can’t even see what arrow is which. In less than five seconds, I hear the standard “You couldn’t keep up” dialogue as I automatically fail.

"You set me up! This isn’t fair!”

“Why should I be? You never kept your promises before. But I’ll be different from you and promise that the difficulty will be consistent. Unless you decide to tell her what you really are now.”

I wish to God this wasn’t real. “I’m not anything else but who I am to Charlie.”

“Horseshit. Absolute horseshit. God, the amount of shit you can spout in so little time is almost impressive if it wasn't so irritating." She growls and for a split second, her face is all I can see on the screen. I shiver.

She smirks as she returns to normal. "Where's your girlfriend, Alex?"

Oh shit, where did Charlie go? I look behind me as I grip the bar, but all I see is the dark. I check my phone, but it’s out of charge even though it was at 50% an hour ago. Kita probably had something to do with this, fuck me!

Suddenly all the arcade machines turn on at max power, screens so blindingly bright and then they flash off back to darkness. In a second, the Jump Bump Fiesta’s screen is …dark.

Charlie comes running by, phone flashlight on as well as big smile. "Oh my god, that worked! We should go and try to open the doors, come on."

She grabs my hand, but in a millisecond something electric passes from my arm holding the arm to the hand holding hers. Both of us fall and try to catch our breath. Charlie winces from the pain. Shit, are those burns? Fuck.

Kita comes back to the screen, half of her face now skinned and exposing all the flesh and bone underneath. “Nice try,” she says with a twitch.

Charlie gasps. "That's impossible. I unplugged every switch from everything! I destroyed the circuit breaker too! How - "

“Haven’t you realized by now that I’m no ordinary machine? I appreciate the attempt at being a hero, but it’s not worth being a hero to someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

"So? Sometimes the right thing is to be the hero to someone who isn't, even though Alex is a hero, to me at least."

"Hmm, I'd regret saying that." She pauses and looks at Charlie. "How about you get on the platform and put your hands on the bar? Alex, be a gentleman and help her out."

Charlie raises her eyebrow. "Why would I need to do that?"

Kita’s voice suddenly goes monstrously deep as it surpasses its usual volume. "Just do it." And so Charlie does, holding my hands for balance. My ears ring and ring.

Kita's voice turns back to normal. "Perfect! We can play another game!"

Of course I have to say something to the weird machin. "Another one?"

Her voice deepens again. "Yes!" Then it lightens. "All you do is to answer a few questions while Charlie watches. Here's a quick demonstration: Alex, do you remember June 6, 2006?"

There’s nothing but silence. I feel like my insides were dumped in a jar of honey, I’m unable to breathe.

Kita continues. “Is that date familiar to you at all?”

“No?” My heart pounds and pounds and pounds. How does she know about this?

Kita’s cheeks stretch like dough to the bottom of the screen, and then stretch back in a millisecond. "What an absolute fucking lie. Your clammy hands tell a much different story. And you know what happens to liars."

I brace myself for the incoming, but I hear Charlie's scream instead of mine. I look to see Charlie trembling, her legs threatening to give way as the skin from her hands starts to dissolve.

Kita laughs. "And that's the game! Every time you lie, Charlie will get hurt! Isn't that exciting?"

"Charlie's innocent! Don't bring her into this!"

“Don’t attempt to deflect away from this! What happened on that date!”

“Nothing! I swear! Please!” As soon as I finish talking, Charlie screams even louder than before.

Kita scoffs. “This is just pathetic, lying so much even though you know your girlfriend will get hurt. But if that’s the way you want to be, fine. I guess I’ll just be the one to tell her the truth. June 6, 2006? I’m surprised Alex doesn’t recall anything, not even that girl he pushed off the hill. You would think that even if everyone else forgot—his parents, his teachers, the school administration who covered the incident up—, he’d still remember the crack of her bones and her screams as her body met rock and the paralysis he left her with. Lucky boy, you didn’t think anyone would find out—did you?”

“How did y- It was a mistake. An accident. I was only nine.”

“Promises are promises, Alex. You promised that girl you’d never hurt her, that you’d try to protect her from anything. And yet you couldn’t protect her from your own wrath after she told you she likes someone else.” Kita shifts back to her normally perky voice. “Alright onward! Let’s see you fail this song again!” She turns her head towards Charlie. “Well? Make yourself comfortable! It’ll be awhile.” Charlie slowly crumbles to the metal pad with wide eyes, holding her scorched hands to her chest.

The song then restarts. Everything starts as normal, and I am able to keep up, even as the song’s usual la-la-la’s are muffled by Charlie’s groans. Until suddenly, something pops up on the screen. It’s a bit circular, all gray and dull and wrinkled with a deep crater of deep red and moving pink bits. I squint and realize too late that it’s what’s left of a face.

“You couldn’t keep up!” Fuck. I failed.

“Y-you put that shit on purpose! That-that creepy-ass face, I saw it! Did you see it too, Charlie!” Charlie softly shakes her head. Fuck. I can’t let her know.

“I was actually playing fair this time. Must be feeling guilty. But about what? Does it have to do with you and Charlie?” Kita lets out a distorted chuckle. “Charlie, did you know that arcade dates are Alex’s go-to move to make a girl feel special? Just him and a girl alone in the dark. Works like a charm, well, usually.”

I hear Charlie’s voice, now hoarse and tired. “Whatever he did, I’m sure it’s not bad enough to suffer over.” She turns to me. “Alex, it’s okay you can just tell me and then we can go home.”

Kita laughs, a laugh filled with bitterness. “Oh, but it is bad enough, isn’t that right Alex?”

I grit my teeth. Of course Charlie had to step in. Why does she make everything worse? "I’m not guilty of anything, and if I need to prove that, then it’s worth suffering for.”

There’s a sudden, bright flash and then I can’t see anything at all. I touch my eyes and cover them as my voice scrunches in agony.

I hear Kita’s annoying voice again. “Ugh, finally. His face was creeping me out.”

And then I hear Charlie. “What’s your problem with him? He made a mistake when he was a kid. We all do.”

“Well, why don’t you have a problem with him?”

I want to say something to make Kita stop, but the pain in my eyes is downright agonizing. I hear Charlie start to speak though.

“I mean, we both grew up in pretty strict Asian households, and I don’t know. He just gets me. Even though my parents talk my ear off constantly about my brothers and how much better they are than me in everything, Alex has been so supportive of me. He’s been there for me when no one else was and he’s always stuck by me. No one else has, and no one else will.”

“I will say, he is quite loyal. Like say, if one of his friends were to commit murder right in front of him, he would never tell a soul. Oh wait, he has done that. Well, just about. Alex, you remember what I’m talking about right? Jim and that girl at the party? Remember how you teased and taunted them as you helped him drag her barely conscious limp body into a private room just for the two of them? Remember how ruined she was after what he did to her? ”

“No, Alex was probably just trying to help. And if he hasn’t talked about it, then it’s not worth talking about. Just because he doesn’t talk about certain things doesn’t mean he’s not a good person.”

“Unbelievable. I try to tell you the truth, and you are in utter denial. Hell, he even lied to you about not being good at this game! I know I haven’t been the nicest to you, but trust me. I’m just looking out for you.”

Kita pauses, and then I feel a small zap on my arm. Miraculously my eyes aren’t in pain anymore, and I stand up slowly as she speaks.

“This is your last try. Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

I have to win. No distractions, no faces, no nothing.

The song starts as normal. Even though I'm breathing hard, I feel like I’ve finally caught my breath.. Normal in the middle. Normal in the end. No distractions. No faces. No nothing. As the song finally ends, I breathe hard, waiting for my score.

My heart sinks. Not a perfect score, not even close.

Kita cackles, her head popping out of her neck and zapping itself into random spots on the screen. Her red smile stays the same – it’s like it’s glued on.

"You lied to me! I had no chance! I didn’t even do anything!"

“You know what you did. I had no chance against you.”

I stop. "What do you mean? I didn't do shit."

"You don’t remember me?"

“What the fuck is there to remember? You’re a fucking machine.”

"Let me refresh your memory."

Her head and neck pop back together, and Kita transforms, her blue eyes push back into her eye sockets as blood pours out. Cinnamon eyes push out to replace her old blue eyes, and the peeled-off skin grows back on her face. A midnight colored dye oozes out of her scalp, staining her hair black, and her outfit flashes into jeans and a simple black t-shirt splattered with a mix of blood stains and white stains.

It’s her. It really is her. Rebecca.

"Who are you?" Charlie asks.

Her voice is different now, less distorted, less unstable, more like honey. "I guess if Alex doesn't want to tell you, I will. Film everything Charlie. I want everyone to know.”

I collapse to my knees on the platform and beg Charlie, “Please don’t. I’m a good person, I swear. Please, please, please, please. Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know me like you do.”

Charlie hesitates, but then slowly pulls out her phone from her pocket. The light from its camera turns on, exposing her tear-stained face. “I wish I could believe you, but I just can’t right now.

The screen flickers to some sort of camera feed.

There's giggling. Two people entering a different arcade. There’s me. And then there’s her, Rebecca. I try to turn my head to look away, but I can’t—there’s some sort of resistance that keeps my neck from turning. I try to get up to leave, but once again, I’m glued down, forced to watch everything on the screen.

There’s us at the photo booth, the vintage Pac-man games, the skeeball section.

Then there’s us at the Jump Bump Fiesta. My heart turns cold.

The video blinks as she utters her first no, as I’m on top of her, shoving, pushing, covering her mouth close, muffling her screams. And then a thunk,

a splatter,

a last blink,

and then silence.

I turn to Charlie in the low light of the arcade, her face is pale white, practically glowing like a flashlight.

“I- That wasn’t me, Charlie. You know me. I would never do that. Please, you have to believe me.” She stares at me, frozen in fear.

“But that was you, Alex,” Rebecca’s face flashes back on the screen. “I know you remember what you did. And Charlie deserves to know because I may have been the first, but I won’t be the last.”

Then as if a switch turns on, I start to remember everything after.

I remember the smell of her when she was alive—fresh strawberries and cream—and how it faded once the maggots started to weave and chew through her body.

I remember shoving in something heavy in that machine and all that metallic clanking after—all the screws falling to the ground, the grunting, the clanking and the rescrewing.

I remember all the noise after—the customer complaints of the smell, the missing person news reports, all the lack of noise after the night shift, and her bones rattling inside.

I remember the smell of her—it really—and the smell of the dumpster I threw it in and how vile its smell was compared to the piles of trash surrounding me.

I remember pretending everything was normal passing by the stupid Jump Bump Fiesta machine until I moved and until it followed me.

It’s too much, it’s too much. I break and start to sob. “I had no choice! It was a mistake.”

“You got me alone and then you— ”

"I— It was a misunderstand—”

"No it wasn’t. You…did what you did and then you had the nerve to hide me! You don't get to act like the victim!”

“I know I…you have no idea how much this has hurt me.”

“Hurt you? What about me? My parents? My sister?”

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you or them.”

“Stop lying. I know you don’t mean that shit. And I should have known that you didn’t mean anything you said back then, especially when you promised me you’d never hurt me. I should have known, I should have known.”

Suddenly there's fire, and I’m knocked down to the metal pad completely. I’m frozen—bound to the metal pad as it slowly heats up. It’s so, so hot. I can barely breathe against the smoke, the smell of my own salty skin as it burns away, and my own blood as it spreads around the metal pad and meets my mouth. Everything is so thick, and my body feels unnatural. I try to extend my fingers, grabbing for Charlie, but all I see is dark blood and flesh and bone—my blood, flesh and bone.

I hear snippets as I fade in and fade out, mostly in Rebecca’s voice.

“You have to live! You have to tell others my story. Please. At least tell my family.”

I hear rapid footsteps and the ding of the door as it opens and an explosive BOOM sealing the door behind her.

Then I wake up, standing. It's too bright here. It could be morning, but the light is too white and pixelated to be natural light.

Then I look down, and see my hands, all 8-bit, all pixels. I’m now wearing some sort of green tracksuit, blonde hair cascades down my shoulders.

I’m 8-bit. I'm her, I’m Kita.

A grin pins itself on my new face no matter how hard I try to frown. “Can you keep up?”