One, a long time ago, you posted a picture you made, reading “please rate my Sonic OC”, something you posted once after a few hours of work ten years ago to Deviant Art. But that picture, it meant something more, but you had no idea. Day after day, you could only think of a better world, a world free from ridicule, where- unlike in the real world- you could move as fast as Sonic. The more you thought about it, the more you realized this wasn’t hope. This was love. You could only do one thing, and you began to write. You put your heart and soul into every work of fiction you could, how your OC would adventure with Sonic and his crew, saving lives, going on amazing adventures, and building friendships, things you could never do here on this world. You wrote how you would treat him and his friends. The more time you spent crafting these stories, the more you couldn’t help but think of how they could love you back. You started off simple, a few pics of your OC and Amy kissing, but it quickly developed into a harem of women, all sorts of animal hybrids pining for your character. You wished, every night, crying your damn eyes out, that you could trade places with him, and for once, be happy. Eventually, you gave up, realizing you have to live in this word, as sad as it may be. And you let the characters go, no woman would accept you for the things you have made. And, if you’re being honest with yourself, no woman could measure up to the loves you had made. It’s been years since you’ve made a piece of work, but to this day, you can never get hard without thinking of your lost loves, and what could have- nay, should have- been. You smile knowing out there, somewhere, your alternate reality self is happy, while you put on this mask, and hope for the day where it all will end, and you can join your true friends in the next world, and adventure with them, forever.