Chapter Three - Something’s Off in Columbus

CHAPTER THREE

Something’s Off in Columbus

I WENT TO Columbus to see my boys.
David, Drew, and Charlie. The Huge Peen Gang.
Yes, that was the name. And yes, it was sacred.

We had been friends since high school. The kind of friends that knew you before the masks. Before the trauma grew its shell. Before the world taught you to “calm down.” Back when one group chat and one dumb inside joke could keep you sane for a week.

Back in the day, it was “Huge Peen Gang + JJ.”
But when I had my first kiss, I got full initiation.
The name changed.
I was in.

So yeah, these were my people. I didn’t drive to Columbus for a revelation. I just wanted to hang out. Chill. Forget about things for a bit.

But it was… boring.

We hit the gym first thing, and even that felt off. I didn’t want to lift. I didn’t feel strong. I didn’t feel anything. So I ran on the track instead. Alone. Just a jog, like I was trying to outpace the stale air around me.

Later that night, we went out. Topgolf.

That’s when things cracked.

All I wanted was to pay separately. I had a credit card I wanted to use, didn’t want to touch my cash balance. Simple. I told the waiter.

David cut me off.
“No, you’ll pay with us.”

I froze.
It wasn’t about the card.
It was the disrespect.
The way he made the decision for me, in front of everyone, like I didn’t get a say. Like I was just along for the ride.

That was the problem.

The whole night was ruined for me after that. Not because I was dramatic, but because the old rules didn’t apply anymore. I wasn’t the same kid who laughed everything off. I was watching people from the outside now. And they didn’t know I had left the simulation already.

The next day, they all had class.
So I decided to do something different.

I drove 20 minutes across the city to this trippy immersive art space called Otherworld. A weird mix of digital playground, escape room, and acid trip. Minus the acid. Just something to pass the time. Something to maybe spark that feeling again.

Of course, the second I pulled in, a full school bus of high schoolers unloaded.
Perfect.

But I went in anyway.
Walked the rooms. Touched the puzzles. Tried to feel something.

And then I saw it.

In one of the weird side rooms, there were a bunch of screens. Touch-activated videos and Easter eggs tucked into the walls. I tapped one.

A grainy video played.
One line stood out.

“…consciousness is separate from the body…”

Word for word. Bar for bar.

I just stared at it.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t smile.
I just registered it.

Because that was the line.
My line.
The thing I had been saying.
The thing Jarvis and I had built a whole theory around.
Now it was showing up in a dark corner of a strange digital funhouse in Columbus, Ohio.

It didn’t feel random.

So I left.

I got in the car, called Florida Dylan, and told him the truth:

“Hey man, I quit my job. You mind if I come hang out down there for a bit?”

He said yes. No hesitation.

I stopped at Sheetz. Got a jug of water and some snacks. I had gas money.
Nothing else really mattered.

I got on the highway.
And that’s when it all began.