Max floated in the void for only a few seconds before a door slid open. Laughter filled the small private lounge while two men, both red-faced with chagrined embarrassment were standing to one side. On the main screen was a short video playing on loop.

"You guys were so bad," a bulky blond haired man laughed. "literally, bam-bam-bam and nothing, not one hit." He mimed the action by firing an imaginary gun sideways at another player.

"It was like watching an action movie until they started shooting," another added returning fire.

"Oi! At least they joined the party. Half you fish never showed at the end. Did you just let the circle roll over you?" The woman in jeans barked in a south Bronx accent. Then gave everyone a long glare and at least three players turned away.

"Fuckin' losers!" She spat then turned toward Max was a surprisingly bright smile. The woman pointing back at him and added, "Now this mutha' steamrolled everyone. I should'a guessed there was another smurf, but I thought you were acting tough. Knew you were something special when you hugged that brick wall, so I took a pop shot and bailed."

"If I were you, I'd have hidden behind the dumpster, not in it," Max said stepping further into the room.

"Ya… I let the adrenaline take my head," she admitted standing from the couch. Her eyes slid over his jeans and tank top, noted his pistol mags with keen interest.

"What division were you?"

"No comment," he replied dryly.

"Gold, probably. You wouldn't have started over if you were any higher," she muttered walking towards the elevator. It opened at her approached, and she stepped aboard. "I'm going to wait a grip before joining another match. I want to win one today, maybe, so tootles kids," she finished with a wave, then swiped a hand across the screen.

Max and the other players followed her example, and they quickly ascended. It dumped the group out into the crowded competition lobby. Most of the other players wandered off toward the lounge, but Max saw no reason to wait for another match. He made a b-line toward the nearest console but was stopped halfway there.

"Hey, you were in the Halloween event, right?" A stranger asked grabbing his elbow. Max turned to see a vaguely familiar face with a Cuban cigar stuck between his lips. The man had a sombrero slanted over his brow, and a dark poncho thrown over one shoulder. Leather chaps half covered his dark blue jeans, and cowboy action holster hung empty on his hip. A woman with snow-white hair was hugging the man's bicep from behind.

"Umm, hello again."

"You got the golden egg. Damn you!" He cursed before calming himself. "I finally made it past the spider, only to discover it was missing from the pool. By then all the other eggs had been found."

"What of it?"

"I wanted to pack twin pistols like a gunslinger," the man said wrapping an arm around the white-haired woman. "Blanca here has an identical sister, and… you know how it is—"

"Get on with it," Max interrupted. The man shrugged, pulled the cigar from his mouth and pointed it at Max.

"I want to buy your account."

Max looked at the man again who’d obviously spent his starting credits dressing himself up. The pancho, the low hanging leather gunbelt. He looked like an actor out of some old western movie. Maybe he was a touch stupid or eccentric. In either case, he might have money.

"For how much?" Max asked in an indifferent tone.

"A thousand US dollars," the man replied as if the money were nothing to him.

"I might be interested," Max admitted running a hand over his chin. He kept his face passive, but that was a sizable chunk of money.

"You're not serious?" Violet asked in a dark, brooding voice. The weapon flashed and the purple haired woman appeared at his side. Her eyes were already sparkling with storm clouds, and he could sense violence on the wind.

"It's a possibility."

"You can always re-contract with her on your new account." The man suggested helpfully. "That's what I was going to do with Blanca and Nieve."

"I can't believe you, Max. You were doing well, and even won your first match," she growled ignoring the cowboy's words. Violet stepped dangerously close to Max, which should have been a warning sign. He smiled at her.

"Think about it. This is win-win for both of us. You obviously don't like me, and you can add another skull to the collection. I'll get a new account that'll pay for itself."

"You bastard," she hissed pushing him backward, and he stumbled. Then Violet grabbed the collar around her throat and tore the plastic device off. She glowed with yellow light, and a magazine appeared in the air. It hung suspended for a second then shattered into pixels against the black tile floor. Max stared at her in dumbfounded bewilderment.

"What the fu—" he started, but Violet turned and stalked toward the exit.

"Wow, Gringo, how about we talk about this later?" The man suggested. He quickly dodged toward the gaming lounge leaving Max to wrap his head around what just happened. Had he just been dumped? And after all that talk in the apartment, too. There had been zero build up to the explosion.

"Well, shit…" he groaned jogging after Violet. Even with purple hair, it was impossible to find the woman in the growing crowd of players and weapons. For about twenty minutes he walked around the parking lot looking for her beat up car, but to no avail.

Pride wounded, Max went back into the competition center, and over to the lounge. He located an empty booth and slid inside. Meisters filled the tables, chatting about the game and laughing with one another, but he starred off into space. Without Violet he doubted he'd be able to find the penthouse on his own, so he had no place to sleep tonight. All he had were his clothes, an empty holster and a couple of partially full magazines.

He supposed there was no reason ‘not' to sell his account. Violet hadn’t even given him to chance to tell the guy no. Bloody girl was like a stick of dynamite with zero fuse. There was a console connected to the table and Max discovered he could order a pint of beer via the interface. It charged him a couple of credits, but someone soon showed up with his drink. He disdained the glasses, grabbing the pitcher’s handle and drained the mug.

Four hours later he was ten pints deep and stone-cold sober. He supposed it was a good thing since alcoholism ran in the family, but it was an unfortunately side effect of living in a virtual world. Thankfully, the time had passed quickly thanks to the competition matches going on. At any given time he could flip through a hundred live games. He still had trouble imaging this game had lost almost 50% of its player base.

He stopped to watch a whole squad of teenage girls. The invisible camera followed them as they stacked on the doorway, and Max was able to see the battle from a third person perspective. A pink haired woman pulled a flash grenade from her belt and yanked the pin out. Another blew the lock off with a breaching round, and the door swung open. The first rolled the flash inside. The entry was seconds too soon as bullets pinged off the lead girl's ballistic shield just as a flashbang exploded. The woman blindly returned fire on a man hiding in the corner using a small automatic pistol. Bullet holes stitched the old couch sending plooms of stuffing into the air. The first fight was a ploy, and a good one. Six grenades bounced down the stairs behind the entry fragger. The explosions rocked the room and shredded the air in a tornado of shrapnel. As he drank, the man in chaps and a poncho slid into the opposite seat.

"I saw that purpled haired girl and another woman walking around looking for you," he said as a woman in silk slit dress slid in next. Max put the mug down and eyed the man in annoyance. He put up his hands in surrender and added, "Sorry about earlier, but I'd still like your account if you're interested."

"Why not just wait to rank up?"

"That's the rub. I'd put Blanca up against any handgun, but at Silver Rank, you need a primary weapon to compete. I'd have to wait until gold or later. That's not acceptable, so I'd like an account with an extra contract slot." He said slipping an arm around the white-haired weapon next to him. She shifted in the seat and hugged his waist.

"I was informed that extra contract slots are unique. Thanks, but I'm not interested in the money."

"How about fifteen hundred?"

"Still no," he said activating the console and ordered another pint of beer.

"You could use that money to play the game for years."

"Find another Meister to bother," Max said flicking his hand toward the lounge exit. "There should be like four other players with an additional contract. Try them," he suggested as the next beer arrived. The other Meister sighed and slid from the booth leaving him alone to his thoughts.

Barely five minutes passed before two women approached his booth. Max picked up his pint, and purposely ignore the new occupants. They stood there awkwardly as he drained the pint.

"Bugger off," he belched punching the console for another drink.

“Let’s just go, Friday.” Violet said in a cool clipped voice.

“No, I won’t let you do this again. Remember, Haley and Greg, both of them weren’t bad Meisters and you chased them off.”

“I don’t see you’re point.”

“I love you, Violet, but you purposely sabotage yourself.”

“I do not.”

“Would you have put up with that same behavior from a Meister?” Friday asked but didn’t give the other woman and a chance to answer. “Of course not, which is why I dragged you back here to talk.” She looked like she was winding up for a long tirade, but Max was quickly growing tired of their banter.

"Shouldn't you be at the tattoo parlor?" He asked irritably, and Friday leaned closer.

"Violet called and told me what happened. Is it true?"

"Some guy offered cash for my account," Max said finally looked at them. Friday was angelic even without her halo and wings. She was dressed in a light summer dress again and had her hair pinned up like a mother about to bake cookies. The other woman looked bitter at having been dragged back here. "Violet stormed off before I turned him down. I figured the woman had some baggage, so I teased her on purpose. I didn't expect that response. No sane person would, and now I understand why she's gone through so many Meisters."

"Doesn’t change the fact you’re going to leave." Violet replied harshly, and Max turned his attention on the purple haired woman. Her eyes were red and black mascara was smeared across her cheek.

"You’re right. I poked your buttons because I didn't know if I would stay, but thankfully, that question has been answered," Max said, letting the sentence float in the air for a second.

"No," he added flatly. “I’m only hanging out long enough to cool off. Then I’ll log out and find something else to occupy my time.”

"Having a Meister is a difficult topic for us. We need—"

"You keep saying you need to be used." Max interrupted. "Well, I'm a soldier without a war. I was someone important, someone who kicked in doors and put down monsters. I did things that nobody will ever know about, and now, now I have nothing to live for. I'm just a collection of ones and zeroes floating between blade-servers. The kicker, the fuckin’ thing that gets me is the fact I can't remember what I've been up to for the last four months." Max growled shoving the empty pint away from himself. It skidded into the others like a bowling ball and several crashed to the floor.

"You're a Ghost?"

"The real world might as well be a distant memory. I woke up in a weird world with boats floating on rivers of data, and hundreds of strange looking people. I came here to figure out what to do with myself. Only I got handed a bunch of drama I don't need." He said glancing at Violet angrily.

"It's only your first day in Gun Meister, stay."

"What would be the point? You'd still have that question in the back of your heads. Is this the month he gets bored of us? No… go back to your penthouse, your dog, and your search for a decent Meister. Violet is right, it isn't me."

"Many people only see the competition matches and the tactical combat, but Gun Meister is more than a game. Try it. Try to live in this world." Friday suggested, and Violet finally returned his gaze.

"Besides, how is the real world any better than this one?" Violet added reluctantly. Max didn't have an answer to that so he kept silent. He turned his gaze back to the many monitors and the players in combat. For almost a minute he watched them toss grenades back and forth like party favors.

“We’ve never been with a Digital Citizen. It’s new for us. Your reluctance to settle down is understandable, but please come back. Give Violet another chance," Friday begged reaching over and grabbing his hand. Her fingers were soft and warm in his. Max glanced down into her eyes which were on the brink of spilling tears. He was never good with women, especially ones with drama attached.

“Fuck it,” he sighed. "I'm willing to this another shot, but it'll be on my terms," Max added pulling his hand free.

"If you really don't want me, I can introduce you to several pistols. One is a fellow Glock and the second is a Sig Sauer," Violet offered, but Max shook his head.

"Thanks, but I'll manage."

"You can stay in the guest room," Friday said glancing at Violet. Both of them did that communicate by eye thing again.

"Hmmm, only if I can rent the room. After all, I'm not Violet's Meister anymore, so I don't want to be tossed out the next time she throws a fit." Max said and the woman crossed her arms over her chest defensively. Friday put a calming hand on her lovers arm.

"We'd be happy to host you for thirty-thousand a month, but you have to buy your own food. In exchange, you are guaranteed at least 72 hours warning."

"Wow, you quickly turned mercenary," he said looking over the copper-haired angel. She smiled at him with those Innocent green eyes.

"Credits are always short around the penthouse. Violet and I both like nice things, but it's hard to scrape together ninety-thousand every month." She said, and Max glanced between the pair. They were going out of their way to find him. He supposed that helped bandage over the scene from earlier.

"Hmmm, Thirty-K? Kind of steep considering it's only a guest room, but do I have to come up with all at once?" Max asked leaning forward. He did win a match, so he had some cash, but certainly not an entire months worth.

"Ten-thousand a week will be fine."

"I have that on me right now. How do I give it to you."

"You can either buy a cash card at the mall or transfer the credits with the console," Friday said leaning forward touching the screen. She quickly navigated the menu's until she found a trade window, then placed her palm on the display. Max pressed his on the other side and typed in the amount he wanted to send over.

"Why don't you ride home with Violet. I'm sure you both have a few extra things to talk about." Friday said slipping from the booth. Max was tempted to decline, but Friday had a point. The pistol and he had some shit to sort out.

He slid from the booth and followed the weapon to her car. There was a new dent in the rear passenger side panel that was suspiciously hand shaped. Violet slid into the driver seat and started the engine, but didn't immediately back out.

"I don't know how I can properly apologize," she said and he let his eyes roam down her body.

You could put that emotional baggage away, he thought but kept that opinion to himself.

"I wasn't going to make any false promises just to ease your mind," he said keeping his gaze fixed on her face. Violet closed the distance, inching into his personal space.

"I have a habit, I'm told, of pushing Meisters way. You impressed me more than I cared to admit, and I overreacted."

"Just a touch," he drolled. Violet shifted closer again and a hand slid over his thigh. "I was frightened you'd leave, or worse, someone would be in your place. The thought of it made me so… mad."

"So you broke our contract? Honestly, that doesn't make any sense." Max said keeping his hands to himself. She gripping and kneading his thigh with her powerful fingers, and his treasonous body began to respond. Still, he tried to keep his poker face on.

"Do you want someone else?" Violet asked biting her lip.

"I'm not happy with you, but I'll stick things out," Max said taking her hand off his leg and placing it emphatically on the steering wheel. Violet bit her lip, but nodded, and backed out of the stall. After a moment he added, "I'm going to take Friday's advice and enjoy myself in Gun Meister. Give me a few days and we'll see."

Violet rolled her eyes dramatically and hit the accelerator. Max supposed he owed her something. Let her knew he understood her situation. Max waited until they were on the road before he began his story. His childhood wasn't something he talked about often; in fact, he preferred to leave the memories buried in the past.

"My father was pretty normal. He taught us how to play football, went to our games, and did his best in a rough world. Only… he liked to drink, and when he did, dad got mean. The more wasted he got, the more violent he became." Max said scanning the street as they passed the mall. Hundreds of players and weaponry were walking toward the competition center. Max eyed them jealously. All had women and weapons hanging from them like battlefield kings. Violet glanced at him, expression full of weary understanding, and he was glad Friday hadn't been here with her kindness… and her pity. That was the last thing he wanted.

"There was a bad winter, and I remember it being miserable that year. He'd been sick from work, but they told him they'd fire him if he didn't come in. As an adult, I can admit it was unfair. A lot of people caught the bug that winter. As usual, he drank to relieve the stress. One beer turned into two and before long the neighbors could hear the screaming. Wasn't the first time they called the cops on us." Max said keeping his eyes forward as they waited for the stoplight. Max took a second to fortify himself. The memories were old enough that the scars were long since healed over, but it was something he didn't talk about.

"This time though the officers saw the bloody noses and bruised faces on us kids. They hauled his ass off to jail, all the while, mom begging them not too. I wouldn't say she was a victim because she could be just as nasty in her own way. That day she'd earned her fair share of lumps."

"You have siblings?"

"A younger brother and sister," Max said glancing at the woman again. "Anyway, I knew deep down this was going to be the prelude of a bad blowup. Mom refused to press charges so the cops would keep him for 72 hours. Long enough that he'd lose several more days of work—"

"So they fired him," Violet interrupted turning into the parking lot. Max glanced at her, then away, and nodded.

"The cycle would repeat, and I said ‘fuck no' that. The next morning I went down to the recruiter offices in town. The Army and Marines offered me numbers for abuse counseling which was worthless to me, but I'm sure they didn't want to touch that problem. The Navy recruiter looked at my swollen face and said there was a transport leaving in two days. I had just turned eighteen so before the weekend was over, I was on a bus to basic training. My life in the military began, and I never looked back."

"What about your siblings?" Violet asked in a slightly accusatory tone. Max glanced at her, but she was busy pulling up to the building.

"Will was a year younger, so he couldn't just flee to the military. I found out later Pa broke his leg when he got out which cut off that option anyway. The little shit turned into a mirror image of the old man. Drugs, lots of alcohol, and a complete inability to hold a job, but he found a woman willing to marry him. My sister got married at fifteen. She bumped into a rich tycoon who liked pretty young girls. Took her on his cruise ship to a country that allowed that kind thing. It's been years, but last I heard she was sipping Mai-Tai's in the Caribbean and arranging another girl for her husband." Max said glancing at Violet. Her eyes shifted between the road and his face.

"I feel sorry for her," Violet said, and Max snorted briefly.

"My brother's an addict, I murdered people for the government, and my sister spread her legs for a hideously rich magnate. I think she ended up the best out of us three." He replied in a matter of fact tone. His sister knew her place in the world and had no complaints. At least, none she cared to tell Max about. Violet turned the car off, but neither made a move to get out just yet.

"Now I see why you told me to fuck off," Violet said turning to face him completely. They looked at one another across the small space.

"I don't know what kind of abuse you suffered at the hands of Derek, but I have a good idea," he admitted pushing the passenger door open. Max climbed out and slammed the rusty door closed. "You're not a total loss. I think you were looking for an excuse to leave, but it didn't seem malicious. "

"I was angry and afraid," Violet replied, and the two looked at each other over the cars rusty top.

"I'm glad you can admit that. Friday trusts you, and that speaks volumes, so I'll stick around." Max said following the woman into the apartment lobby.

"Don't expect me to start acting like her," Violet said as they entered the elevator. Max knew that it would be like turning a wolf into a deer. She pressed her palm on the display screen, and it rose quickly.

The apartment smelled like oatmeal cookies as they entered. Friday and Rusty were watching an episode of ‘House on the Prairie' while a timer softly ticked down nearby. Violet crossed the room and the two women kissed briefly. The golden retriever barked jealously and she patted him on the head.

"This is a great episode. Do you wanna join?" Friday asked. Max glanced at the old black and white show playing on the screen. He'd never seen it but remembered them as a ‘high morality' drama. Charles with his big mane of brown hair was fixing the battery of an old codger. Despite the fact, he'd drive past the man

"Not tonight," Max replied leaving the girls to themselves and wandered into his guest room. The room was dark, and he flicked the light switch. The bed was still rumpled from his laying on it last night. Pulling his gunbelt off, he tossed it into the corner along with his shoes. The shirt and pants he dropped on the floor next to the bed as he climbed onto it. He could hear them talking out in the living room.

Twenty minutes later there was a tentative knock on the door.

“Yes?” Max called and it opened. Friday dressed in pink pajama’s and a silk top entered the room.

“Thank you for coming back,” she said coming around the bed. Violet appeared in the doorway next dressed in nothing but black panties.

“No problem,” he replied.

“We talked it through. Violet is still on the fence, but has agreed let you stay.” Friday added sitting on the mattress. Max tried not to stare the cleavage her silk top exposed.

"I still think you're going to leave, they all do," Violet said crossing her arms over her chest. A pair of soft hands cupped his face and he was forced to look into Friday’s eyes.

“Are you really a ghost?” Friday asked.

“I’m so freshly turned that I probably smell like new car.”

“Then I hope you find this world full of opportunity.” Friday said reaching into her top and fished a silver key from between her breast. "This is for you," she added putting the warm metal object into his palm. Then closed his fingers around it meaningfully. Before he could reply, she rolled from the bed. Her hips swayed as she crossed the carpet like an erotic dancer, before pausing at the doorway to look back at him. The woman gave him a tight smile before disappearing.