Game hits you with a gut punch right in the menu. You’re this 25-year-old guy who already had his “happily ever after” and then it just gets ripped away from him. No heroic bullshit, no magical fix, he’s a wreck. First scenes are him looking like a zombie, barely functioning, and I liked that they don’t sugarcoat it. He’s numb, he’s angry, he drinks too much, he makes bad choices, sometimes you just click through like “yeah, I’ve seen this guy on Discord at 4% battery and 0% will to live.” And then, in the middle of all that, the game suddenly drops this tall blonde girl in a tight sport uniform with a ridiculous ass and you realize, okay, this is not just depression simulator, there is definitely some cock therapy incoming. Her tits look heavy in that jersey, jiggle a bit when she leans forward, and I swear the dev has a personal obsession with thighs, because the way those shorts ride up when she stretches before practice? That’s where 30% of my saves went. I kept quicksaving right before dialogue choices just to see how slutty or tender that same scene could go, like switching between two different timelines where you’re either a broken puppy or a horny asshole who still somehow gets rewarded.

Thing is, the sex doesn’t happen in a vacuum. You can feel the main guy still carrying all that grief into every scene. There’s a moment on the bleachers where she’s straddling him, sport top pushed up just enough to show those big tits bouncing while she jerks him off under the night lights, and he suddenly spaces out, thinking of his dead lover, and you get this ugly mix of hard-on and guilt. It’s hot and uncomfortable at the same time, which I kinda loved, even though at one point the pacing goes to shit because the game keeps stopping the dirty talk to drop another sad monologue. You get animated vaginal scenes where her ass fills the whole screen, cheeks slapping, sweat on her back, that little bounce in her ponytail while she rides him on the locker room bench, and then right after that they’re talking about addiction and suicide like you just didn’t have your dick in your hand twenty seconds earlier. The tonal whiplash is nuts. But the small stuff sticks with me: her fingers tightening on his shoulder when he finally thrusts up with some actual energy, her trying to hide how wet she is after “innocent” training, that one shot where the camera lingers too long on the curve of her hip as she walks away and you notice a tiny bruise from earlier practice. I hated how the text sometimes explains things I already get from the visuals, yet I kept playing, saving, loading, chasing slightly different ways to make this broken guy lose himself between her legs again, just to see if he looks a bit less dead inside when he finally comes.