The Game

feeling best: We have this idea that love is supposed to last forever. But love isn’t like that. It’s a free-flowing energy that comes and goes when it pleases. Sometimes it stays for life; other times it stays for a second, a day, a month, or a year. So don’t fear love when it comes simply because it makes you vulnerable. But don’t be surprised when it leaves, either. Just be glad you had the opportunity to experience it.
    I’m very loosely paraphrasing, but his ideas reverberated in my head as I spent yet another night in bed with Caroline. I had originally memorized the passage to use as a routine. I never thought it would actually apply to my own life. Love was supposed to be something women chased, not men.
    I spent the next day juggling airplane tickets and travel plans. I kept my flight to Eastern Europe, but instead of watching Mystery hunt for bisexual slave girls, I decided to meet a group of PUAs operating out of Croatia. I’d been corresponding with one of them, named Badboy, since the day I’d joined the community.
    One of the reasons I became a writer is that, unlike starting a band, directing movies, or acting in a theatrical production, you can do it alone. Your success and failure depend entirely on yourself. I’ve never trusted collaborations, because most people in this world are not closers. They don’t finish what they start; they don’t live what they dream; they sabotage their own progress because they’re afraid they won’t find what they seek. I had idolized Mystery. I had wanted to be him. But, like most everyone else—perhaps more than most—he was his own worst enemy.
    When I checked the seduction boards that day, there was one new message from Mystery. Its title: Mystery’s Last Post.
I won’t be posting here anymore. Just wanted to say thanks for the memories and good luck to you all.

    Your friend,
Mystery
    I went to Mystery’s website, and it had been taken down already. It’s impressive how quickly years of work and effort can be dismantled.
    An hour later, my cell phone rang. It was Papa.
    “I’m scared,” he said.
    “So am I,” I told him. “I don’t know whether this is just a cry for attention or the real thing.”
    “I feel the same way as Mystery.” His voice was distant and weak. “My life is going all the way down. All I am is game. I haven’t opened a book since school started. And I need to get accepted into law school.”
    Papa wasn’t an exception. There was something about the community that took over people’s lives. Especially now. Before Mystery started doing workshops, it was just an online addiction. Now everyone was flying around the country meeting and sarging together. It wasn’t just a lifestyle; it was a disease. The more time you devoted to it, the better you got. And the better you got, the more addictive it became. Guys who had never been to clubs could now walk in, be superstars, and leave with pockets full of phone numbers and girls on their arms. And then, as icing on the cake, they could write a field report and brag about it to everyone else in the community. There were people who were quitting their jobs and dropping out of school in order to master the game. Such was the power and lure of success with women.
    “One of the things that attracts a woman is lifestyle and success,” I told Papa. “Imagine how easy the game would be if you were a high-powered entertainment lawyer with celebrity clients. By getting into a good law school, you’ll be improving your game.”
    “Yeah,” he said. “I need to prioritize. I love the game, but it’s become too much of a drug for me now.”
    Mystery’s depression was affecting not just his own life, but the lives of the kids who looked up to him and modeled themselves after him. Some, like Papa, were still modeling him, even in his downward spiral.
    “Everyone who gets too absorbed in the game is depressed,” Papa said. “Ross Jeffries, Mystery, me. I want Mystery’s game, but not at the expense of life.”
    The problem was that this epiphany was coming too late for Papa. He’d already signed up for seminars with David X and David DeAngelo. All of it, of course, meant blowing off days of classes.
    “My dad called yesterday,” Papa continued. “He’s really worried about me. All I’ve been doing is game for half a year while ignoring my education, finances, and family.”
    “You have to learn balance, man. Pickup should just be a glorified hobby.”
    It was wise