How I built my own world without losing friends

How I built my own world without losing friends

Porn · 312 pages · Published 2024-04-23 · Avg 2.3★ (6 reviews)

When indie cartographer and VR world‑builder Talia Mendez walks into the mirrored lobby of Torre Arboleda in Mexico City to interview reclusive simulation tycoon Cassian Rook about a grant for community-built worlds, she meets a man as dazzling as the skyline above Chapultepec. Brilliant, methodical, and intimidating, Rook commands rooms and servers with the same unblinking intensity. Talia, armed with a cobalt sketchbook, a battered field recorder, and a laugh that loosens knots, is startled by how quickly she wants his attention—and how fiercely she wants to keep her friends, her crew of testers and artists, close. Against his own habits, Rook is drawn to her stubborn curiosity and independent streak, but he insists on collaborating on his terms: quiet hours, nonnegotiable versioning, strict boundaries, and a design covenant that dictates every flicker of light in their shared simulation.

Shocked yet intrigued by his exacting protocols and the glass-walled studio that hums over Paseo de la Reforma, Talia hesitates. For all the trappings of success—multinational servers in Toluca, a private observatory in Valle de Bravo, an obsidian chess set that never gathers dust—Cassian Rook is a man marked by early failures and a ruinous beta that taught him to control everything he can. When they embark on a daring, intensely intimate creative alliance, their late-night builds become a map of trust and power, code and confession. As the world they are crafting blooms with salt flats, paper pigeons, and star wells, Talia uncovers the secrets that shadow Cassian's brilliance and tests the edges of her own boundaries, choosing where to surrender and where to stand her ground.

Lyrical, slyly funny, and deeply moving, How I built my own world without losing friends is a story of attraction, authorship, and the fragile architectures between people. It will draw you in, challenge you, and leave you with the strange ache of having walked through a place that should not exist. Themes, situations, and language are intended for mature audiences.

Gonzalez, Spector (b. 1986) is a Mexican American writer and narrative designer from Laredo, Texas. After studying interactive media at the University of Texas at Austin, Gonzalez worked in Mexico City building story systems for indie game studios and teaching workshops on collaborative world-building. Their fiction and essays have appeared in small magazines and festival zines, often exploring power, consent, and technology through layered cityscapes. In 2019 they relocated to Los Angeles while continuing to spend long stretches in Mexico City; when not writing, Gonzalez volunteers with community makerspaces, catalogs mid-century electronics, and leads night rides along the LA River.

Ratings & Reviews

Marta Quiroz
2025-08-16

Recommend to readers interested in creative-process intimacy, tech-adjacent romance, and Mexico City atmosphere, who prefer negotiation scenes to banter.

Mature content, explicit language, and recurring control dynamics; includes boundary setting, consent frameworks, and emotional withholding. Not for readers seeking a warm friend-group subplot.

Kofi Mensah
2025-04-29

As a romance inside a VR build, it left me ambivalent.

  • Precise workflow details give texture
  • Scenes loop instead of escalate
  • Friends and testers feel sidelined
Jonas McRae
2025-01-14

Talia starts bright and stubborn, but her arc narrows into compliance so often that I stopped believing in her independent streak.

Cassian is rendered with competent chill, yet the book confuses opacity with depth. His past is hinted like a redacted file, which keeps him distant rather than complicated.

Dialogue becomes a series of permissions and timestamps. Real people laugh, fumble, call friends; here, the crew hovers around the glass like fog, rarely cutting through.

I kept hoping for one unruly choice to crack the veneer. It never arrives, and the chemistry cools to a checklist.

Lucía Armenta
2024-10-03

El estudio de vidrio sobre Reforma, los salares, las palomas de papel y los pozos de estrellas funcionan como una tesis sobre el control; las reglas de la simulación fascinan más que las escenas entre las personas, que quedan frías.

Priya Banerjee
2024-07-22

The prose toggles between lyrical city haze and practical dev-speak, and that mix mostly lands. Chapters stack like commits, each build adding texture without overexplaining the tools.

Still, the structure stalls when scenes repeat the rules of the covenant; momentum dips, and some late confessions feel slotted in rather than earned. Solid craft, uneasy rhythm.

Evan Leong
2024-05-11

I came for the promise of attraction colliding with authorship, but the book keeps circling the same power loop until the thread frays.

The design covenant is not just a metaphor, it is a leash. Every time Talia yields another hour, another boundary, the story tells me it is testing limits, yet the test feels pre-graded.

By the time their late-night builds are "a map of trust and control," I was no longer mapping anything; I was counting how many times the narrative insisted on obedience.

The mirrored lobby, the tower over Reforma, the servers humming in Toluca are sleek set pieces, but they often eclipse the community the grant supposedly champions.

I wanted mess, contradiction, the crew stepping in with real friction. Instead I got immaculate surfaces and a romance so tightly throttled it squeaks.

Generated on 2025-09-02 10:57 UTC