The problem cannot be solved with outside assistance

this one i wrote at like... 2am and never proofread. I have no desire to. it stays awful :3

Infected hadn’t gone outside for a bit. Despite enjoying skating and generally having fresh air, his terrible allergies in the spring made this a good thing. The reactions had gotten really bad for him. His days consisted of sleeping on his couch and talking to his friends on the computer. They seemed concerned for his health. He didn’t really see the issue, though.

Especially Lampert (fun fact! He had met him in real life a few times! They met each other on winter break! His parents were difficult but Infected would rather not dwell on that.) Who had been IMing him a lot. Infected really liked the company and was craving some interaction after waking up at 13:00.

He got up, stumbling and coughing his way to his desk. It felt like a long walk, even if it was maybe six steps. He didn’t count.

But there was a problem with that schedule today. Last night his computer must have refreshed or updated and it was prompting him to log in.

That’s no issue. It wouldn’t have been an issue for anyone else. As an 3p1c safety measure he had his password on a sticky note on the edge of his monitor.

His username was even just his name with some flair. He could never forget that!

“Xx1nf3c73dw4ffl3xX”Is what It should have been. But, (due to a security error that you definitely shouldn’t make when making a website ever. Never reveal if it’s the username or password thats wrong!!! thank me for saving your job later,) The website returned a “This User Does Not Exist :(“ error.

Which confused Infected greatly. He’d been using that username for several years and definitely didn’t make a typo. It was just his name that gave him a bit of a weird feeling. A pit in his stomach that wasn’t just the normal nausea of the last two weeks. Something didn’t feel right but the neurons in his brain weren’t being allowed to connect what3vr that was.

Useful thing about meeting with Lampert, Infected had his cell! While his credits were pretty low, he could probably sneak in a minute or two and ask if it’s a problem on his end. Infected was also really craving that human interaction. His roommate, and hell, his cat, had disappeared a few days ago. (This worried him but he didn’t have much he could do.)

Infected grabbed his trusty nokia whatever-number-model. Even with the twenty little things hanging off it, he keyed in the number in a few seconds flat. The phone rang. (specifically at an E3 tone.)

“Hey,”

Lampert picked up. His phone always had a fuzzy tinge to it.

“What’s up?”

Infected had to take a moment to speak

“y0, are you h4ving trouble with ROAIM?”

“Uh, no,” He said this, adding a pause,

“Why, are you?”

“It’s s4ying my us3rn4m3 is incorrect” he replied.

Infected added “1t’s r3ally botherin9 me. Was I hax?”

“Dunno. Let me check”

Lampert got up from what was either the waiting or living room and made his way to his room. (Probably just standing there being a lamp, lmao) From what infected had been told, his house was pretty cluttered. They also had a (hand)built in house bar. He was jealous of that.

“Nope. Looks normal. Same nyancat profile picture and kasperwaffle as always”

“That’s n0t my name?” Infected.. inquired? Or perhaps stated.

“What… do you mean that’s not your name? Kasper, that’s literally your name.” Lampert said in a tone that was indistinguishable.

it was Infected’s turn to say “What?” as an uncomfortable silence fell.

“I d0n’t know 4nyon3 named K4sp3r.” Infected insisted, being really worried he had been hacked. Infected didn’t know what to think about what Lampert was saying, though.

“Not sure how to prove to you what your name is.” Lampert stated plainly. And he thought for a bit.

“Wait.. Go check your ID”

Why would Infected not know his own name? But begrudgingly, he did pull it out from his desk drawer. He usually had it in his wallet, but he hadn’t had any use for it in weeks.

But infected’s eyes couldn’t really register what they were looking at. It was them in the Id photo, albeit a little bit younger. And all the information was correct, but.

No matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t read “kasper.”

“I7 doe$n’t haVe a n4m3 4t 411.”

“…”

Lampert was probably at a loss for words, according to that silence. It was also getting really hard to understand what Kasper was saying.

“I think you need some sleep, you sound out of it.” He stammered a bit saying that, but..

“0|<. l473rz”

Infected pressed the end key. He didn’t know how to feel but it didn’t really concern him anyways, did it? He noticed he didn’t really feel worried anymore, even if his problem was not solved. That was nice.

Infected returned to surfing the web, just saving messaging for another day.