RCS Chats
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Summary
Someone had asked Ben — out loud, to the whole stream — why he used only Odyssey. Why he wouldn’t cross-post to the huge platforms with more reach, more clout, more money on the table.
Ben’s reply was short, measured: “Okay, there are other social media, but are they decentralized? No. So I won't use them.”
Series
- Part 1 of Modern Settings
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Summary
Then one day Ben’s messages changed tone. There was a short silence in the RCS thread and then a single line: I’m taking time off.
Series
- Part 2 of Modern Settings
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Summary
Ben thought Rey private. Rey thought Ben brave. Neither thought to mention the limp.
It was Ben who found out by accident.
Series
- Part 6 of Modern Settings
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Summary
Rey used to think love was a luxury for anyone but her.
Ones with tidy bank accounts, neat lives and the sort of confidence that made strangers trust them on sight. She had none of that. She was poor.
Ben didn’t seem to notice any of it.
Series
- Part 7 of Modern Settings
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Summary
They learned each other's languages without becoming bilingual overnight. They taught one another to soften where the other's life was hard, to sharpen where it needed shape.
Series
- Part 8 of Their Stories Were Pieced Together
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She would tap the back of her phone, the faded words catching the light, and feel the rightness of not spending that certain amount of life on something that offered only the illusion of connection.
Series
- Part 9 of Their Stories Were Pieced Together
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Summary
Jinx tapped the little blue send button and watched her RCS bubble hang for a breathless second before his reply popped up.
Series
- Part 10 of Their Stories Were Pieced Together
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She’d been sitting on the kerb outside a chip shop, legs swinging, gloves hanging off her hands, when she’d read the message — his name and a cheery:
“Hi.
Beautiful girl with blue hair, who caught my eye right away.
:)”
In her cluttered contacts.
Series
- Part 18 of Their Stories Were Pieced Together
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Summary
I thought of the RCS message blinking as read on their phones, the small bridge between our lives. That night, there was no performance, no filters — only three people at a small table with homemade pizza, and a quiet, fierce certainty that they had chosen one another.