It’s dark in the study. The only light comes from a portable television. The low hum of a Playstation can be heard as it fires up. Gene sits on the floor and waits for the menu screen. He inserts an old memory card he found while cleaning behind the sofa. What happens next surprises the thirty-two year old. He cries.

The sight of the Dino Crisis save file brings tears to Gene’s eyes. The memories just come flooding in; he can’t help it. He wistfully recalls all the hours he and his soon-to-be-former-roommate Yamir spent trying to get the special ‘third ending’ in which Rick drops a bomb from a helicopter onto a Tyrannosaurus rex. They were ultimately successful, but the damage they did to their eyes was irreversible.

It seems like it was yesterday that the two spent a long weekend traversing the totality of Ivalice in Final Fantasy Tactics. They took turns leveling up Ramza so that he was strong enough to withstand the mighty power of Altima. They brought each other Dr. Pepper floats and tater tots from Sonic. They talked about women they were too shy to ask out. They gave each other backrubs that they promised never to speak of.

He’d totally forgotten that they’d played through Parasite Eve. Neither was a big fan of the game – the obvious use of FMV in static environments annoyed them for some reason – but that didn’t stop them from playing through the Chrysler Building and defeating the true boss of the game, Maya.

Ah, Cool Boarders 3. That was the semester that Yamir flunked out of college. He took it in stride. He doubled his shifts at Quiznos. That’s why always came home smelling like bacon. Gene didn’t mind at all.

Of course, Twisted Metal 3! That came out around the time Gene caught his girlfriend messing around with the guy from her Chemistry study group. Gene was crushed. And while Yamir may not have had much wisdom to impart on Gene, he played a mean Mr. Grimm. That was good enough.

Gran Turismo. That was the game. The one that took two down-on-their-luck roommates and turned them into best friends. That game was so intense, so addictive, that Gene and Yamir breathed, ate, and drank nothing but it for the entire summer of 1998.

They became a single entity devoted to the perfection of virtual driving. They both got really into the Chemical Brothers. They began to show interest in real cars where there once was none. Countless pizza dinners were eaten on the very floor Gene now sat. They carted another television on so they could watch reruns of MASH and Saturday Night Live. In their dreams they heard the revving on engines.

Yamir cracks open the door. “Jerkin’ it?” he asks. He is surprised to see Gene sitting cross-legged on the floor, bawling his eyes out. “What’s wrong, dude?”

Gene can only point at the television screen. Yamir steps in and looks at the screen. It takes him a moment to understand what’s going on. His eyes well up too.

There’s the Metal Gear they saved with the unlimited ammo bandanna. There’s the Rayman that never got past level four. There’s the PaRappa the Rapper with the unbeatable high score on Cheap Cheap the Cooking Chicken. There’s the Tony Hawk Pro Skater with all of their goofy characters. There’s the Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver that they stopped playing when the Blockbuster disc got scratched. There’s a dozen other games. A dozen other memories. All saved on this little grey card.

Gene wipes his eyes with his Meatbun shirt and sniffles. “You can’t go, bro.”

Yamir smiles. He opens his mouth to speak but pauses. He puts his hand on Gene’s shoulder and says, “I think I have to.”