Daniel let Craig know he wouldn't be in action on the testing front for three whole days as a result of the reboot. His console being out of commission meant he was by default also on the sidelines. As the past couple of nights had been taken up with Immersion nonsense, he decided to take a night off the games altogether. Instead, he settled in for a quiet, solo movie night. For once, it genuinely thrilled him not to be playing anything. All of the action was pre-written, pre-filmed. He only had to sit and enjoy.

He enjoyed one movie so much that another followed. Feeling that it was pretty much unhinged to watch three movies in one night, he retired to bed at about half past ten. 

Dan didn't usually dream. He also never thought much of it. The odd one would have him questioning certain things, but he wasn't superstitious about that. His dream on this night was especially odd though.

He found his dream self a reflection of his avatar from earlier that day. He concluded as much. He saw his hair flowing past shoulder-length rather than in its tidy bun. Already, he tried subconscious disassociation. He tried to tell himself that this wasn't him. It was a way of keeping the most sane.

No, he was sat on the bed again like his 'Student Life' character was before. He looked down to see the little black dress on his body. Further down, his heels shone and glimmered in the light of the blue dorm room. He saw those purple nails again. It was clear that he was dreaming about 'Student Life'. 

If this was how he had to find out what happened next, he took it as a sign that he was supposed to know. If his brain was going this far to remind him of 'K', despite the recency of it all, he knew it wasn't for no reason. He also hoped his conscious self would remember enough of the dream to write it down somewhere.

"Aw, boo! You're stunning! Ready to go show 'em who's boss?"

"Let's do it!" He didn't think he had any control over saying that. It felt like an already generated reply. 

He stood up on wobbly legs. The heels felt like stilts to him. He tried to shuffle himself over to the door, but the stylist was there to coach him.

"Big strides! Confidence, girl! Don't be afraid to flaunt those puppies!"

And just like that, he found himself walking in the strappy silver sandals as though he had been doing it all his life. The power of perception, even in dreams, is greatly underestimated by human consciousness and sub-consciousness.

He strutted down the hall confidently, the stylist being his hype-woman the whole time. The quips were honestly a little much, but none of them repeated directly. He reached a door which glowed with a blue spotlight on the floor, like an objective marker. It stuck out more prominently thanks to the beige carpets of the halls building. He approached and the stylist wished him good luck.

'Own the room, own the night, K! Have a blast!'

The door threatened to open, but it didn't beat his fluttering eyes.

"What the f*** was all of that?" 

I'm sure we can all agree that this was a justified response. Unfortunately, that post-dream haze had already swirled around his brain to cleanse his mind of any fragments of the dream. You're lucky I'm here to share it with you all!

He lost pretty much every note of the dream within his mind. He couldn't recall the specifics. All he knew was 'K', 'Kimberley Swann' and... that was honestly it. But he figured he wouldn't forget that name in a hurry. It was flashed in front of him in some post-apocalyptic warning screen after all. 

He readied himself for work and got on with it. Thursdays were good. Claudia returned to the shop for the full day, meaning a lot of work got done. Sam and Craig were good, but Claudia always had the attitude that was perfect for dispatching things that needed to be done. Daniel preferred to work with her, not in a creepy way either. He saw himself as one of three big brothers to her in the shop. She was in need of protection - more in a supervisional sense. She was plenty strong enough. None of the guys wanted her to be in trouble, so they took on responsibilities she couldn't. The testing, for example.

Claudia waited at the till for Daniel. 

"The boys are doing more testing through there. They didn't tell me everything, obviously, but they did say you were on a timeout from the project." Her eyes then widened, accompanying a growing grin, "so, what did you do? Did you kill someone?"

"Quit it, you!" He replied in the tone one would expect from an older brother. "It's just a system issue. I wouldn't kill anyone."

"I know! Just bamming you up, dude! So, what's the scoop?"

"I had a movie night last night instead of testing."

"Ooh! Anything gory? A slasher? I love those!"

"Relax, murderer-in-the-making!" Always with the blood and guts, that kid! Dan wondered if he was as psychotically entertained as Claudia appeared to be.

Dan returned to his regular gaming that night. After a few nights of just VR experiences, it was tough to adjust to seeing more than just the screen. He felt like he had to relearn how to drink and game at the same time. He realised that he could eat and play simultaneously rather than booking himself into some kind of prison for a night with neither basic necessity sated. He wished he could play longer, but his eyes closed over on his couch at about 10 o'clock. He awoke a few hours later and retreated to bed. 

Before leaving, Dan observed the headset. The light was still green - still booting up for sure. He considered reading it but chose ultimately not to bother. 'Let it do its thing. You do yours, boo.' Then he was almost sick in his own mouth. Boo? Since when has he used that word, even internally?

He looked in the mirror and tried to regain his sense of self-being. Short hair, facial hair, male. Male. Male. He felt he had to drill it into his head physically with a jackhammer. 'I. Am. A. Man.'

His brain still didn't get the message. He dreamed that night of another football match where he watched from the stands. He didn't even have to wait long this time before he knew what was going on. He looked down to see he was wearing light blue jeans adorned with large orange floral designs and patches, and this was enough to confirm that he was a girl again. As his head lowered, his hair was tossed around in the air behind him like pasta in a colander. He couldn't see much more, but he could feel extra weight on his chest.

The dream played like the experience at first. He walked down the stairs, this time unaccompanied, to meet with a player. Rather than just a kiss, Dan found his dream avatar scooped up into the player's arms. Turning his head only made it worse, distorting the pitch into a grassy meadow laden with linen-cloaked chairs. It was like the ones you see at weddings. Dan could only assume that's where this was going. He turned back around to see the man change from claret-and-blue football kit into a tuxedo with a tie to match the club colours. Dan didn't want to look at what he was wearing in this one, subconsciously or not. His eyes shot open as soon as he caught the first glimpse of a lacy white gown.

He wouldn't forget that one so quickly. He knew it, too. He could only conclude it was linked to that headset. He knew he had to write down the psychological effects, but no one would believe the juicy details of it all. That's why he decided to keep it to just key notes. He then tried to move on, knowing that he would never be able to. He'd been a bride (sort of) and that's the sort of thing a guy doesn't forget.

Social media was the usual distraction in the mornings while YouTube played its podcasts. He scrolled through to see who was doing what and came across Claudia's recent post from last weekend. He would sometimes just leave a like to show support for whatever she was doing. He didn't make it a habit of creeping on his younger colleague. It just wasn't his style. I don't want to know anyone with that as their style, in all truth.

He left a like on the picture but paused his scrolling. Claudia stood in the photo posing with a couple of friends. One of them was a few inches taller than her and the other girl, all with very vibrant hair. Claudia's was the trademark light-blue while the other girls had orange and pink hair respectively. 

He also found himself reading the caption - something he practically never did.

'Chilling with my favourite special girlies @Molly Clarke and @Jazz Bear before we go to comic-con! How do we look?! Nvm, I know we kick ass lol x'

Usual cringey post from a teenager. Why did it pique his curiosity this morning? He couldn't answer. He was also at least 90% sure that Jazz Bear wasn't the third girl's name. Where did they come from? Their stories are for another time.

Daniel felt he needed to wash himself with something a lot stronger than soap following this weird blip in his behaviour. He was just glad he intervened quickly enough to stop a comment or worse. 

He managed to keep himself in a solid enough state to get to work on time for the last day of his week. Craig had decided to close for Saturday and Sunday to maximise the capabilities of the test team for the 'IXV.' They only had 2 weeks to test it. Every minute was money.

Daniel kept up with what occurred with the 'IXV' but with an extra layer of frustration. There was no way that he would ever get away with putting reports of the strange dreams on his testing file. They would only have read that as a pure pisstake. He just had to keep wrongly convincing himself that it had nothing to do with it - it was all coincidental. He'd gone from superstition-free to tin-foil-hat crazy in about 48 hours. And no, he couldn't blame the machine. Even if it was its fault, he couldn't actually blame it. That would potentially cost the shop the project. He always had one eye on his bonus.

Midway through his shift, after eating his lunch, Daniel went to the bathroom. While sat there, he heard something concerning.

"Help! Let me out!"

Dan finished as quick as he could and rushed out the door. He wondered if Claudia was trapped under something, but Claudia doesn't work Fridays. It was a perplexing problem.

"Huh? Who was yelling?" 

Sam looked at him mockingly, "no one. Did you hear anything, Craig?"

"Can't say I did. Dan, you doing alright?"

Sam cut him off. "He's just on a college-girl withdrawal."

Again, Dan wasn't biting. Team chemistry was vital. It always is. 

"Stop that. Seriously, bud, you good? You've not been yourself."

"I'm...yeah, didn't sleep great." He left it at that. He couldn't be talking about the hallucinations his dream-self generated for him.

"Almost the end of the working week. Lie-in tomorrow, eh? Get your head back on its shoulders." Craig was absolutely worried about Daniel. He didn't know what the reset function involved. He thought about asking Daniel about it. He decided not to. The project was most important. As he said, he probably just suffered from a lack of sleep. 

"I'll definitely do that. The headset will be ready to go again, but like hell will I be."

With that sort of conversation-ending laughter, Dan returned to his post at the front of the shop. He wanted to see customers. They became his focus while they were in his presence. He couldn't be thinking about himself if someone else needed him instead.

At around 2:30pm, a group of school kids walked in to browse the stock of figures. Daniel looked right ahead or down at the desk. He knew the protocol. He knew the standards. 

A girl with black hair and blue eyes approached him, her Russian lashes dancing elegantly on her lash lines. 

"Got any new 'Disney FUNKOs' back there? I have all the ones you have on the shelves."

Dan activated work mode in a flash.

"I believe a new Aladdin one just came in - it's Jafar with Iago - really cool one!"

Classic sales team work here. If you have to sell a product, make it sound as amazing as possible. Dan was an expert and a natural. At this point, he was selling water to the thirsty.

"Ooh! I love Aladdin! Can I see it?"

"Of course."

Dan called through to the guys and was handed a box at the door. The box was branded 'FUNKO', and Dan sifted through for the Disney ones. 

"Yeah, so all this stock is what we have on the shelves. Except for...this one!" The pause was necessary as he rummaged through the awkwardly blocky boxes one-by-one for the right figurine. "That one will be £25 if you're wanting it."

"Oh, absolutely. Please."

Not all the teens were so polite. Dan was impressed but remained professional. He carried out the card transaction and watched as the girl scanned her bank card against the contactless card reader. His eyes paused on the bright blue purse in the girl's hand. The back of it seemed to have a genie's lamp on it.

"Fan of Aladdin, are you?"

"Haha, how could you tell, eh? Thanks, I think that worked."

"Yep. Would you like the receipt?"

"Nah. No way I'll be bringing him back!" 

"Fair enough. By the way, those lashes are cool."

He waited for the police to come and instantly take him away for that comment. Neither Craig nor Sam heard it, and he wondered if the girl had.

"Thanks! Do you know how great it feels to have someone notice what a hefty chunk of my pay goes on? You're the best server I've had in a long time!"

"Just doing my job! You all have fun now."

"Thanks again, man." 

No 'To Catch A Predator' music played. Daniel felt like he had got away with a huge sin. He thought nothing of it until Craig brought it up with him. Sam was already gone and the shop was closed.

"Can we talk about earlier today, Daniel?"

"Sure. What is it?"

Craig gave him a stern look. "Did you sell a Jafar figure to a girl earlier today?"

"Yep. Have they complained about me?"

Craig's eyebrows then unfurrowed.

"Quite the opposite. You have a glowing review! The girl even liked that you mentioned her new eyelashes, and that you knew your stuff. Not about the lashes - the stock, of course."

"Just doing my job, pal."

"This is one of the many reasons why...don't tell Sam... you are my favourite. 100% committed, that's you! I want to see more of this from you - really speak to the customers' interests."

"You can count on me, bud." A mountain was just lifted from his back, washing a river of calm over him. He wasn't in trouble. Sometimes, it was OK to talk to people like that. He was still glad he didn't comment on Claudia's post though. Context is everything. He was just doing his job in the shop.