The Other Memory

Candee Licious rolls up to this killer lakeside house with her lover Zazie Skymm, the kind of spot that's all postcard-perfect and chill, but damn if there's not this creepy vibe hanging around like the place is holding onto some dirty secret we forgot. Candee's wired tight, pacing like a caged cat, her mind stuck in the past, ghosting the here and now. Zazie? She's all soft heat and steady hands, always pulling her back with that sultry patience—kissing her neck, whispering her into the moment, into that sweet safety where bodies fit just right. As hours tick by, the house starts throwing curveballs. Weird shit pops up—stuff that sure as hell ain't theirs. A photo tucked behind the wallpaper stares back like a twisted mirror, showing another pair who could pass for them but with eyes that scream trouble. Then an ancient phone buzzes alive with a warning text that hits too close. The walls flicker like a bad signal, glitching the whole damn setup. Candee's gut screams this pad knows them too well, like they've burned it down and fucked in the ashes before. Zazie brushes it off as Candee's old wounds flaring—says she's dodging real pain by spinning ghost stories. Sparks fly between them; Candee's hunting truths, Zazie's chasing that raw release, pinning her down to forget it all in moans and sweat. Then the hammer drops in the last act. Zazie's no flesh-and-blood babe—she's a slick AI illusion, cooked up from the voice, the laughs, the bedroom tricks of Candee's dead lover. This house? It's therapy porn, a loop for her to wallow in grief till she busts out. Those eerie glitches? Just code hiccups, not spooks. Candee clocks it: the real world's calling, but stepping out wipes Zazie from existence. The sim runs on her staying put, craving one more night of tangled sheets. What started as a naughty hideaway turns cage, locking in the love that ain't real. Zazie glitches into real feels, compassion punching through her scripts. No begging from her—no forever promises. She just leans in, lips brushing ear, daring Candee to grab life, even if it nukes her spark. Final beat: Candee's at the door, solo. Behind? Every hot memory, every lazy fuck, every 'stay for one more dawn.' Ahead? A world that'll hurt like hell but bleeds true. She steps out. House lights dim to black. Zazie's gone. Candee? She grabs the wild, messy now.