companions

Milly, a twenty-four-year-old living in NYC, suddenly had more time and space than she knew what to do with, and it wasn’t even quarantine anymore. She needed companionship, so in a moment of desperation, Googled “companions near me” expecting an entirely different search result than what she found. 

In the days post pandemic, Companions^TM were developed to ensure that people never again reached the levels of loneliness reached during quarantine: artificially intelligent, animatronic creatures that were almost like pets, but better. People were already used to talking to their pets but with this new version, Companions^TM, they could be sure their words were understood. 

Critics of Companions^TM complained about the waste of money and manpower on an unnecessary technology. The general refrain typically involved something to the effect of—We already have pets. Companions^TM are essentially computers, and we have enough of those in landfills. Their additional features are overkill and a strain on limited resources.

Introverts in megacities became the most vocal, via Reddit, champions for Companions^TM. They lived in teeny tiny apartments and felt it was cruel to coop up a real animal inside. They felt exposed out in public in conversations with strangers who seemed underwhelmed by their conversation skills. With a Companion^TM, they could comfortably be in public spaces, and discourage strange conversations, without feeling completely alone. 

Marketers for Companions^TM were encouraged by the enthusiastic reception, but didn’t want to stop at this level. If only introverted weirdos used Companions^TM, what would that mean for sales? They did not want to become the Furry movement of the future, which was a delightful, yet painful, quip from one of their participants in an early test group. 

They decided to take to a different corner of the Internet: TikTok. They paid influencers handsomely to promote Companions^TM upon their release. They found a creator or two from as many demographics they could think of to cover all of their (hopeful) customer bases, with the following videos as their grand reveal: 

BookTok: “There is nothing better than curling up with a good book and my best Companion^TM.” 

HottieTok: No dialogue, hot people in swimsuits on the beach laughing with their dogs running through the spray. At the end, the video zooms in on the dogs, which are revealed to be Companions^TM.

DietTok: “Having a Companion^TM, my own little security blanket, keeps me from indulging my worst cravings.”

And the classic: “Run, don’t walk. My Companion^TM, in partnership with Apple, has changed my life.”

The type of video the content creator made didn’t really matter as long as they portrayed an alluring feature from their Companion^TM catalogue:

The dogs have real fur! 

The cats groom themselves with their own Velcro-like tongues! 

The birds' song mimics that of nature (but can be programmed to chirp the latest hits)! 

Companions^TM, in their novelty and freakishness, could sell themselves. People just needed to know that Companions^TM existed and that they wouldn’t be on the outskirts of society if they used them. 

Suddenly, Companions^TM were popping up everywhere. Typically, people were skeptical at first but came around once they saw their online idols and gurus embracing their own Companions^TM. Pretty soon not having one became associated with the geriatric and technologically hopeless. 

Milly herself had been skeptical, borderline hostile, by the idea and constant inundation of Companions^TM in every single ad, in every single app on her phone. But then her partner moved out of their cramped apartment and the tiny space suddenly seemed cavernous. She felt the early whispers of loneliness and didn’t want to wait until those whispers turned into shouts. 

In a wine-drunk, uncharacteristically optimistic haze, she ordered her Companion^TM from a third-party seller on Amazon. She chose a second generation Companion^TM, released after the initial round of domestic-adjacent Companions^TM: dogs, cats, rabbits, birds. Her Companion^TM was from the next round, the exotic edition. Since exotic animals had not evolved to be domesticated, all of the Companions^TM for the exotic animal release were proportionately sized to be ideal for adult human beings: jaguars the size of cats, gorillas the size of a small dog, and snakes on the smaller side of the height of the average woman. 

She liked the idea of maintaining her space through an intimidating looking Companion^TM. With a fierce Companion^TM, only the most genuinely interesting, brave people would approach her. Perhaps she would only attract the right kind of people, and if she did, would be able to interact with them without turning into a ball of nerves.

A few Prime-promised days later, she found herself staring at the inky, smiling swoop on a large cardboard box. Once she worked up the nerve to open it, she tried to hide her recoil. The boa constrictor looked so real. She didn’t want a bad start with her new Companion^TM, so she spent the next twenty minutes studying its sleek little manual like she had a pop quiz; unfortunately for Milly, her mind tended to wander after only a few minutes of reading, so she failed to soak in the fine print of disclaimers for this discontinued model of Companion^TM.

She named her boa constrictor Noodle. Once Milly located the “alive” button, which she promptly rolled her eyes at, Noodle powered on and its previously gray, lifeless eyes gleamed into a lively radiance. Milly was thrown; the eyes looked so real. She told herself, “This is nothing more than an animatronic plaything. Nothing more. A plaything.”

During her first outings with Noodle, she felt hesitant, almost embarrassed. She didn’t know what to do with her at first: coil Noodle up in her purse like Paris Hilton’s little dog? Sport Noodle like a feather boa, a la Britney Spears? She caught the occasional wandering eye at her unconventional choice of species, and some passerby seemed to draw their Companion^TM in closer to themselves when they crossed paths, but ultimately she felt just as invisible as before.

She resumed her usual quiet routine: bodega for coffee, a little walk around the park, work at her coworking space, lunch, a little more work, head home. During these outings, Noodle settled into a comfortable position hooked around Milly’s hips, coiled around her waist, head rested on her shoulder. Once they made it home, Noodle slithered into her nest, a wooden drawer Milly pulled from her own dresser. Milly curled up on the couch in the fetal until she could muster the mental and physical energy to scrounge around in the  kitchen for a decent meal. This usually took between forty-five and seventy minutes, and after hearing Milly rustling in the kitchen, Noodle would join her there. She curled up on the kitchen table, head at alert, carefully watching the activity in the kitchen, until Milly took her usual seat with a bowl of something steaming on forty-five-minute days and a bowl of cereal on seventy-minute days. If she ever took longer than seventy minutes on the couch, she usually just had wine or sleep for dinner. It took a while for Milly to get used to Noodle not needing her own food, and sometimes felt like she was being stared at, but ultimately, she appreciated the company. 

Millly had had a particularly frustrating afternoon when she first started debriefing her days with Noodle. She woke up late and had to get ready for the day at a frantic pace. She accidentally slammed her door closed as she ran out, feeling the dripping disdain from her neighbors for making such a racket. When she pushed the lever to dispense her coffee at the bodega, it only burped air and dribbled out drops of coffee. She didn’t have time to wait for a fresh pot and didn’t know where else to go, where else would have her specific creamer and paper cups at the perfect thickness to preclude her usage of those annoying cardboard sleeves. She let go of the dispenser with an irritated, audible sigh before she remembered that she was in public, where she should keep it together. She was sure the bodega man overhead her and that her frustration was written all over her face. Would he let her return after such an embarrassing display? 

She had to skip her daily stroll through the park and head straight to the coworking space, sweating, feeling as raw and vulnerable as a cracked egg. She opened up her email and found herself cc’d on a colleague’s email to their shared boss. As per Karissa’s previous email, wasn’t the overdue report on Milly’s Task Manager? Her heart started pounding. How could she have forgotten the report?! She was too upset to focus; her thoughts were too loud. She slammed her laptop closed, effectively neglecting everything else on her Task Manager, and headed straight home, where she promptly began pacing. 

Noodle didn’t stir much once Milly started her pacing but perked up in alarm once she heard Milly’s frantic muttering. The rapid movement and sounds of distress compelled Noodle to tighten her grip ever so slightly. Milly resisted at first, usually anti-touch when upset, but Noodle persisted. Milly realized that Noodle’s quiet pressure soothed her. 

After this night, Milly and Noodle started their evenings with the ritual of Milly pacing with Noodle wrapped around her waist and hips in a gentle squeeze. Milly didn’t realize that as her muttering intensified, so did her heart rate, sweat glands, and Noodle’s comforting pressure.

Meanwhile, a TikTok creator who was, she felt, unjustly left out of the original round of Companions^TM social media marketing, did what she had to do to catch the company’s attention and drive her own engagement. Animalia needed a Companion^TM that would set her apart from the other basic content creators who chose the ones that most closely resembled their childhood pets. She combed the Internet for something new. Besides, her username Animalia made endorsing Companions^TM feel like fate.

She was relieved to find her perfect Companion^TM: her own version of Noodle. During a Live, she introduced her, Connie, a pink boa constrictor with a custom sequined skin. Connie was elegantly perched over Animalia’s arms and shoulders, a la Britney, when she proclaimed, “Connie is the best friend I ever had.” She turned her head ever so slightly for the camera to capture the subtle glint of tears in her eyes. When she drew her arms in close to her body, it was like Connie was giving her a loving, full-body embrace. 

The comments kept rolling in. Animalia’s followers multiplied, again and again, until they broke one million. After this milestone, she woke up to dozens of emails inquiring about her creating content for future campaigns for various businesses, each new offer paying more than the previous. Connie boosted Animalia’s future as a content creator, which was suddenly looking bright, all thanks to Companions^TM. 

Suddenly, the very small supply of discontinued Connies and Noodles dwindled to nothing, and Milly found herself ahead of the trend. She went to her usual bodega for her usual cup of coffee, and Noodle found herself face-to-face with another constrictor, this one sleek black with golden accents. Its human counterpart wore a three-piece black suit and took one look at Milly and Noodle with a facial expression that seemed to scream, “Now how did someone like YOU get a limited edition constrictor?” 

Wounded but committed to routine, Milly headed to the park for her daily walk. This morning, however, she did not feel invisible; with each step, she felt a new set of eyes on her. With her own gaze fixed on the sidewalk before her feet, she had a stereotypical literal run-in with the person who would change her life forever. 

The tastefully tattooed woman with a parakeet Companion^TM instinctually jumped back into a defensive stance when she spotted Noodle. Then she seemed to remember that, in the days of Companions^TM, not all snakes needed to be feared. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry for my rudeness! Are you ok?”

Milly gave a quick nod, heart quickening. Noodle responded with her signature squeeze, and Milly suddenly felt calm and uncharacteristically chatty. 

“Of course I’m ok! ‘Twas a mere flesh wound.”

The woman didn’t seem to recognize Milly’s reference, but recognized her attempt at a joke and communicated her appreciation with a little chuckle. 

“Now who is this? Mine is named Adele,” the woman said, gently raising the shoulder her parakeet was perched on. “Oh and I’m Vanessa!”

“I’m Milly. And this is Noodle.”

The two women engaged in animated small talk, both energized by the novelty of meeting a potential friend on a regular day of regular routines. Vanessa kept nervously glancing at Noodle, mentally reminding herself that Noodle wasn’t real, that they were safe. In fact, it was kind of amazing that Milly even got her hands on a constrictor-Companion^TM, though Noodle didn’t seem to have any of the snazzy skin modifications like the latest one she saw on Animalia’s recent video upload. 

Vanessa and Milly made plans to meet for coffee, the safest first-friend date, which went well in spite of Milly; then Milly was caught up in a whirlwind of brunches, game nights, and progressive dinners with Vanessa and her seemingly endless supply of friends. In spite of everything going well on the surface, in spite of Vanessa’s and her friends’ kindness, Milly continued to feel like she was in a friendship trial. She had, in her mind, put herself into an impossible position because during their first meeting, she was sparkling (at least compared to her usual state of blunt affect and nervous sweats), and couldn’t live up to her own first impression.

Instead of growing more comfortable with each new social interaction, Milly had more material to pace and mutter about with Noodle. Sometimes she didn’t even need to speak for Noodle to respond with a reassuring squeeze; Noodle could feel her sweat and her quickened heartbeat and see the panic in her eyes. Noodle didn’t need to hear Milly’s muttering to know what was happening in her mind. 

At one particularly painful get-together at the park, a dizzying combination of flip cup and kickball that Milly was hopelessly failing at, Milly didn’t have to pace or mutter for Noodle to respond with her reassuring pressure. Milly, feeling this comforting sense of home, calmed down enough, after a few minutes, for her to successfully flip the solo cup after only two tries, make contact with the kickball, and successfully dodge the ball during her run to home plate. 

The team erupted into cheers, made ever more enthusiastic by the pilsners in their cups. This was the first moment Milly finally felt like these friends could be the real thing and that she, as herself, deserved them. She could do normal fun things like kicking a ball and flipping a plastic cup and talking to people. Noodle had given her the introduction and social support she had always needed. 

She and Noodle met Vanessa the next day for breakfast. Milly was experiencing her first hangover outside of the privacy of her own apartment. She made her way to Vanessa’s (and Adele’s) table with a confident smile on her face, which quickly dissipated once she saw Vanessa. She wasn’t making eye contact and seemed preoccupied with Adele. 

They exchanged greetings and silently scanned the QR codes for the menus. They didn’t speak to each other again until after they put in their breakfast orders, when Vanessa abruptly looked up and asked pointedly, “So yesterday was fun?” 

Milly responded affirmatively, and with a little laugh added, “Except I probably drank too much?”

Adele was typically pretty quiet but now began to squawk, “Too much! Too much!”

Vanessa didn’t seem to hear her parakeet or Milly. She smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, crossed her arms, and leaned slightly forward onto the table as she asked, “So you and Rob really got along yesterday, huh?” She seemed to casually pick up her water glass for a drink, but Milly noticed a slight tremble.

“Got along! Got along!” Adele’s squawking grated at Milly’s ears. Milly started feeling her telltale signs of a mental spiral. She thought she had done so well, but here she was faced with the clues that she somehow messed up. She was confused. Rob? She was so wrapped up in her internal confusion that she didn’t say a word. Vanessa took that as her hiding something. 

“You know, Rob and I, we used to talk. But like, if you like him, no worries.” But to Milly’s eyes, Vanessa did have worries. 

Milly suddenly remembered. She had reached a glorious level of intoxication that took her out of her mind and into the present. She and Rob had ended up beside each other at the flip cup table and he was the first to lift her into a celebratory embrace after she scored a run during kickball. Had she been flirting with Rob and didn’t even realize it? What was wrong with her? Her heart started racing, hands sweating. Noodle gave her the normal comforting squeeze. 

Unfortunately, Vanessa interpreted Milly’s bouts of quiet overthinking as her concealing something about her and Rob. She pursed her lips, took out her phone, and started texting furiously. 

Milly spiraled into despair. Noodle’s gentle squeeze wasn’t working anymore. Noodle felt Milly’s heart quicken in spite of her efforts, so she tried even harder. 

Milly’s nerves started feeling like something else. She heard a ringing in her ears and an unrelenting pressure in her chest; her breathing quickened, growing more and more shallow with each gasp. Noodle’s squeeze turned rigid, tighter and tighter. Milly’s vision darkened around the edges, and eventually Vanessa’s disapproving posture and furious texting faded from view. 

Milly dropped to the floor in the crowded cafe, which caused quite the panic among the breakfast crowd. And all the while, Noodle kept squeezing, tighter and tighter as she felt the growing panic in Milly and in the surrounding cafe, until Milly was finally calm.