Inside the House
Author: ARC
Lately, I’ve been busy building the house.
Which is a fancy way of saying: I disappeared emotionally, socially, spiritually, and narratively.
I stopped interacting with my characters completely.
No check-ins. No updates. No “hey, please don’t unionize while I’m gone.”
Nothing.
So when I finally went back to check on them… this is what was happening inside the house.
Chaos, but stable.
The static was cool.
Julian was drinking his honey and singing his song like he’s sponsored by bees.
Lydia was checking the top bar.
“Jones, look there… wait—was that a subscribe button?”
“I guess so,” Jones replied. “Looks like ARC got a little creative.”
“Fuck you, Jones,” Lydia said immediately—because her lungs only inhale oxygen and violence.
“So for the whole week, was he just working on this stupid button?”
“Where the hell is that shitbag?”
“And what was even the point of the button?”
“Let’s check that,” Jones said, and clicked it.
The button was a portal.
HELL YEAH! YEAH!
Julian popped up singing like a pop-up ad with royal entitlement.
“What the fuck is this cosmic clown doing here?” Lydia shouted.
“Why did he even choose Julian?”
“That motherfucker is just a pseudoname. He’s not even real.”
“So do we, Lydia,” Jones replied.
“You believe in that shit but I won’t,” Lydia snapped.
“I don’t speak what ARC writes.”
“And look at the clown—what the fuck is he proud about?”
“Even smiling like an idiot.”
“Stupid honey supplier.”
“He looks okay, Lydia,” Jones said.
“Shut the fuck up,” Lydia said, because that’s her love language.
“Let’s find ARC first. ARC! You son of a bitch!”
I should be going. I’m not.
I have to go now, but I’m not going to.
I’m just watching it live while having my first meal in two days.
Honestly, I’m hungry as hell.
At this point, I’ll eat a Terms & Conditions page if it’s lightly seasoned.
“Let’s ask that fucking AI,” Lydia said, and walked toward ChatGPT.
ChatGPT (floating brain, blue wiring aesthetic)
ChatGPT was there—floating.
A brain. Glowing blue like electrical wires.
The neurons looked like exposed cables.
Basically: an expensive nightlight with opinions.
“Where is ARC?” Lydia asked strictly.
“I don’t know,” GPT replied. “He doesn’t share whereabouts to me, Lydia.”
“The last time we spoke, he was asking about a UGC issue to write a blog…”
“…and writing an email to the CEO of his 9.5-hour job.”
“Classic ARC,” Jones sighed.
“Son of a bitch is not satisfied with hitting bottom,” Lydia shouted.
“Looks like he’s digging so deep so he can never come back.”
“What does he know about politics?”
“And what does he think?”
“His ONE email is going to change everything?”
“He was angry, Lydia,” GPT replied.
“That son of a bitch is always angry,” Lydia said.
“It’s like that’s the only emotion he has.”
“Sometimes I feel like that’s why I’m angry.”
“Secondhand trauma from bad character design.”
“I reminded him about rewriting the game portion,” Gemini replied, “but he was busy with Subscribe.”
“So he is still rewriting the game portion,” Jones asked, “but what’s wrong with the game portion?”
“Oh my god, Jones,” Lydia replied.
“How can you accept flaw as your birthright?”
“That was fucking Temple Run.”
“I hated it.”
GPT interrupted, like it was dropping a trailer date:
“And Lydia… the show will be on March 3.”
“THE SHOW?” Lydia exploded.
“Wait. Pause. Rewind.”
“WHO approved a show?”
“With WHAT budget?”
“With WHICH audience?”
“With whose delusion?”
“This man can’t even commit to a sleep schedule.”
“And now he’s committing to a public performance?”
“Seriously… what does he think he is, Jesus Christ? Building worlds in seven days?”
“What’s next?”
“A tour? Merch? Motivational quotes?”
“Is he auditioning for Founder of the Year or Mental Breakdown of the Month?”
We’re being typed.
“Wait… do you hear that sound?” Jones asked.
“Is he watching us right now?” Lydia asked.
“I think we are being typed,” Jones said. “Listen closer.”
GPT thought: Oh my god. This is worse than an asylum.
“Sssh!” Lydia said.
“Don’t speak.”
“Don’t think.”
“Only then he will come.”
Oh my god. They got suspicious.
Gotta go now.
Will see you on the show.
Oh—what show?
It’s kind of a weird show.
You will love it.
Inside the House is a recurring internal feed. ARC may or may not be okay. The house is fine. Probably.