How to make it in the metaverse

Going for a coffee is the best part of the day. She leaves her tiny apartment with its grumpy roommates and goes to a café two streets away. Each order is customized by her. Today, there are cookies with cream and almond and vanilla bean foam, with a dash of green pistachio for a little something extra. There's coffee in there, too, but that's kind of beside the point. She orders the largest portion, always with ice cream.

"That'll be $32.85," the barista says.

Sure, the coffees add up, but it doesn't matter. What else is she going to buy? New York City was expensive before inflation got out of control, but now it's unlivable. She's a designer with a decent income, but buying a house or a car is impossible. Even an adult piece of furniture is prohibitively expensive for her. Not that she even has a place for it. Her landlord plans to raise the rent in two months, and she will probably have to move, though she has no idea where.

This fictional piece is part of CoinDesk's Metaverse week

"What's the news?" the barista asks. She's told him about her impending move, mostly because he's one of the only people she deals with regularly in real life. His housing situation is even worse than hers. He lives in an equally small apartment, but it's a 90-minute drive away. She knows his work schedule and plans her visits around it, which sometimes seems a little ridiculous to her, but he always seems genuinely happy to see her, sometimes even a little nervous. He's tall, has expressive eyes, and has the best sneaker collection she's ever seen.

"Right now, my two best options are to move back in with my parents or leave town. But I have no idea where to go. So yeah, it's not looking good."

"Have you thought about buying land in the Iroverse?"

"Where?"

"It's a world that came out last month, one of my good friends from college is a co-founder," he says.

"What do you mean a world?"

"A virtual world. Like a game."

"I see."

She's already lost interest in this conversation. She tried this whole Metaverse thing a few years ago and didn't understand what the hype was about. Back then, VR was awful, and she had to awkwardly move her avatar back and forth on a computer screen using her laptop's keyboard. She wandered alone through pixelated, largely industrial landscapes. Where were the others? She would be relieved to log off and return to her apartment, which was boring and alienating in a more familiar way.

She knows, of course, that a lot has changed since then. For one thing, VR doesn't suck anymore. No more clunky headsets, the hardware is now as light as reading glasses. She's spent a lot of time in her small room hiking lush trails, playing tennis with strangers, or floating over mountains and rivers in China, just because that's the kind of thing you can do. She's heard of buying and selling virtual properties, but it all sounds complicated and unnecessary. She has enough problems in the real world.

She doesn't really want to hear about the Iroverse, but she wants even less to go home to her roommates, whom she barely knows, and her passive-aggressive gray cat.

So she asks, "Can you buy land there?"

"I just bought my first piece of land," he says. "It's not very big, but the location is fantastic, and there's enough to build on. I've already started on the designs. My friend said he would help me. I'll be a homeowner," he says with a laugh, but she can tell he's really excited.

"But ... Why?"

"Because I'm tired of commuting. And I want my own space."

"But you can't really live there, can you?"

"It's an investment property. If Iro does as well as we think it will, I'll sell it and buy a house in New York."

"Wow," she says, not knowing what else to say. She notices a line has formed outside the café. A woman behind her sighs dramatically.

"I should probably go."

There's a pause. Then he says, "I'll be there tonight. Why don't you come and check it out?

Now he has her full attention. It's the first time he's suggested a meeting outside the café.

"Sure," she says, "I'll be there."

***

It's immediately clear that Iro is different. First, it's easy to use. She puts on her glasses and she's surrounded. Second, the designers are top-notch. The world is majestic, shimmering. She is in a green meadow with infinite space. There is dew on the grass, and delicate wildflowers are blooming. Above her is a soft blue sky with a pale crescent moon. As the evening progresses, the blue deepens and the moon becomes brighter.

She creates an avatar. She chooses a face shape, hairstyle, and eye color very similar to her own. She dresses as carefully as she would for an appointment. After changing her clothes many times, she decides on a white dress with clean, simple lines. The game suggests she wear an oversized orange bag with it, although she doesn't know what she needs a bag for or what to put in it. She considers wearing sunglasses with it, but then remembers it's nighttime.

She thinks she looks pretty good, at least until the barista pulls up next to her. His jeans are just the right cut yet somehow original, and his red sweatshirt matches his digital physique perfectly. He's wearing high-top sneakers made of gold light bars.

She feels like a loser.

"Those shoes ..." she says, "I didn't see anything like that when I picked my avatar."

"Yeah," he says. "The shoes are a giveaway for the contestants in the first round of Iro." His body language and facial expressions are remarkably similar to real life. She looks down at her sad white shoes.

"Check your bag," he says.

Inside her large orange bag is now the same pair of sneakers, only in silver.

"Are you serious!"

"Welcome to the first round. She was oversubscribed, but I got my friend to let you in."

***

The first round of Iro includes only a few thousand people, namely friends and acquaintances of the founding team and those who signed up the fastest. Soon, the game will be open to everyone. Since the world is new and sparsely populated, land is affordable. After exploring Iro for a few days, she decides to just go for it. A huge map lies in front of her. Some patches have already been filled in where people have already claimed land. The land in the middle of the map is the most expensive, and prices go down the further you get to the edge.

Barista has a small parcel near the center. She wonders if he got a discount from his friend. She doesn't understand why location even matters - she can just teleport anywhere she wants to go. She exchanges a few dollars for IVRS, the platform's digital currency, and buys a small plot of land in about the upper right corner of the map.

Once the purchase is made, to her surprise, she feels a violent thrill. She has always been a renter, putting her fate in the hands of landlords in New York. She never thought she would own her own property. The deed is stored on a blockchain, forever. She can do whatever she wants with it. No one can ever take it away from her.

She starts building it immediately. She wants it to be the total opposite of her apartment in New York. She opts for light wood, high ceilings and minimalist furnishings. Bright white walls. Iro offers some of the materials for free, but she uses her IVRS to buy some extras, such as a huge bay window. Through it, she can see a small body of water in the distance. She throws herself fully into the task. She finds an online forum about building in Iro and buys software to help her with the architecture.

Every minute she's not working or sleeping, she's building her house. She doesn't even go to the coffee shop anymore because she can now see the barista in Iro. His own house is rudimentary, basically just a small, empty brown box with a bar and a record player - a virtual bachelor pad.

Finally, it's finished. The structure is sturdy, if not spectacular, and the roof is a little crooked. But she doesn't care. She has a small, two-story house. In her New York apartment, she has a view of another small apartment just a few feet away. She constantly hears the man walking up and down the upper floor, and her ceiling vibrates from the impact. Now she stands barefoot in her brand-new large bedroom, looking out the huge window at a vast digital nothingness. She can't remember the last time she felt this happy.

She leaves Iro to make herself a sandwich. One of her roommates is working on his laptop at the kitchen table, his papers and empty coffee cups covering the entire surface. He barely looks up when she walks in, giving her a weak nod. She's not even sure what kind of work he does. His gray cat on the counter looks at her in a vaguely confrontational way. She just smiles back. She's already in the process of making a life for herself elsewhere.

***

She spends as much time as possible in her new home, walking barefoot up and down the stairs (there are stairs!) and planting a small rose garden in the front yard. The barista visits less often now because he has started DJing on the porch of his house. When she stops by one of his gigs, she finds that a small crowd has gathered, including some incredibly stylish female avatars. People are tipping him through IVRS, and one company has even bought a small ad to put on the side of his house.

She still loves her house, but she's starting to realize there's not much to do there. The loneliness and emptiness that initially drew her to her property now feels a little bleak. Now she understands the logic of property prices. Although she can go anywhere in the world with the click of a mouse, social activities tend to be concentrated in the center of the map.

The bigger problem is that in the real world, her landlord is still planning to raise the rent. And so far, she's done nothing in Iro but spend money. She finds herself frequently exchanging dollars for IVRS, which she then spends on digital gardening tools or pictures for her walls. Her most extravagant purchase is a virtual horse that also needs a stall and lots of hay. The barista makes money in Iro, and she needs to find a way to do the same.

Her business idea comes about, as it often does, by accident. The barista is taking a break from his set, and they meet at a new independent cafe in Iro, right next to his house. The cafe is pretty, with bright cushions and an airy patio, but the coffees themselves are crudely drawn. Just white cups with an inky liquid in them. She thinks the owner missed an important detail.

"No one would buy this from the outside," she whispers, lest the café's owner hear.

She raises her hand, and a pencil appears in front of her. She draws an elaborate drink with bright pink swirls and glittering ice cubes. She adds creamy white foam and tops it with a bright red strawberry.

"That's it," the barista says, watching her draw with his big avatar eyes. "You could definitely sell that as an NFT."

"Really?"

"Think about it: a strawberry latte you can keep forever."

***

She starts making drinks and selling them outside his house while he hangs up. She didn't think there would be such a demand for unchanging lattes, but there are. People love them. She adds matcha and chai and even fruit smoothies. Each drink is unique, and she has her hands full trying to keep up with demand. A steady stream of IVRS flows into her wallet.

It helps that Iro has gone into its second round and is now open to more people. New users are joining every day, and there is now a waiting list for the third round. The map is no longer empty: houses are sprouting up everywhere, even though their neighborhood is still relatively quiet.

A famous rapper buys the property two doors down, attracting a swarm of fans to the area. The music carries down the street, and when the rapper performs, the barista opens for him, even though the rapper never agreed to it. The barista's small home is now advertised by various businesses looking to capitalize on the traffic of the place. She also benefits from this, as she sells most of her drinks at his gigs.

The only problem is that she hardly ever sees him. When he hangs up, she can't even reach him in the dense crowd. Only once does she get close enough to say, "Hey," but he doesn't hear her. Or maybe he does hear her, but is too distracted to answer.

She misses talking to him, but she doesn't have time to think about it. Her business is picking up steam, helped by various tailwinds. IVRS is now listed on several stock exchanges. Journalists are dazzled by the beauty of Iro's landscape, just as they were on her first visit, and articles appear in the largest American publications. Prominent actors, athletes and singers flock, spending millions of dollars on real estate and driving up prices. The price of IVRS has risen nearly 1,000% since they moved in. It feels a little crazy, but the value of her home is skyrocketing, so she doesn't want to complain.

But then. One day, she notices a woman holding a beautiful caramel-colored drink, but it wasn't designed by her. She zooms in on the cup and sees the logo of the most famous coffee brand in the world. It turns out that this company has bought prime real estate in the middle of the city. She sees advertisements everywhere. The company has hired a team of world-class designers to create every kind of drink imaginable. It's also constantly dropping free drinks and introducing complex rewards programs.

It is doubling down on its efforts. It hires more designers, buys better software, and invests in a more vibrant and broader color palette. She's also buying tons of advertising for her drinks, but it's not even a tiny fraction of what her competitor can afford. As she struggles to keep her small business afloat, she hears the sound of her phone in the distance, as her real customers ask, "Where are you, what's going on? She now works only part-time and is considering giving up for good.

But she can't, not yet. She needs all the income she can get. Iro is starting to feel as expensive as the world she comes from. She has now converted so many dollars into IVRS that her bank balance is flashing red. She's already told her landlord she's moving out, but she has no idea what to do next. She now sleeps only two to three hours a night, and when she runs into one of her roommates in the hallway, he seems almost concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asks, though it's not really a question.

"You know, I'm just excited."

He nods weakly at her, then goes to his room and quietly closes the door.

The barista is busy too, so busy that he doesn't even respond to her messages. She walks over to his DJ and waits for the crowd to clear. He is bent over his turntable, exhausted. Now he has to compete with some of the most famous DJs in the world. She makes her way over to him, but then a flash of cobalt blue catches her eye and she stops abruptly. A familiar logo can be seen on the doorframe behind him. It takes her a minute to realize she can't believe what she's seeing. The barista has sold an ad to the big coffee chain that is killing her business. For days she's been sending him desperate messages to let him know how hard it is for her. She feels so betrayed she can't even move. She signs off for the night.

***

A young couple moves in next door. Now when she looks out her big bay window, she sees right into their backyard. As if that wasn't bad enough, the couple buys an expensive looking cat that skulks around outside most of the time. For some reason, the new pet's code disturbs her horse, which whinnies angrily every time the cat walks by. So, once again, she has to reach into her IVRS wallet to build a fence to hide the cat from everyone's view.

Her drinks still sell, but she's had to diversify her menu and now does cocktails. She hires more people to help her. The cost of materials is high, and she barely makes ends meet. Her only consolation is that at least she has her house.

But even that investment feels uncertain. Her property has value in Iro, and only in Iro. If the gamble fails, it will take her house down with it. Life in Iro is as vibrant as ever, with new celebrities arriving every day, but the platform's currency is a cause for concern. When she can't sleep at night, she keeps looking at the rate tables. The IVRS rate fluctuates wildly, sometimes dropping 20% to 30% in a day before rising again. One time it's a small hack driving the price down, another time it's a U.S. government agency calling the metaverse a "bubble." Most troubling, however, is that sometimes the price falls for no reason at all.

***

Early one evening, under a rose-gold, watercolor sky, the barista reappears. She can see him standing on her porch. He knocks on the door, but she doesn't answer. She's still upset about the ad and about him ignoring her for weeks. She knows he's had a hard time too, but she doesn't care at this moment. How could he leave her alone in this crazy world? Since she doesn't open the door to talk to him, a speech bubble appears above his head.

"I need to talk to you," the text says. "Please." She's tempted to ignore him, but his body language has an unusual sense of urgency. He paces back and forth on her porch very quickly. Reluctantly, she sends a message back.

"What's up?"

"Meet me outside, at the old coffee shop. I'm already in your neighborhood."

"Can't we just talk here? I'm launching a new product line tomorrow."

"No," he says. "We can't. Meet me outside." Then he disappears. He signs off.

It's a strange request. He quit his job as a barista years ago, why does he want to meet at this coffee shop? She can't remember the last time she saw a coffee that was actually drinkable. She begins to wonder if something is really wrong. She logs off and goes outside, squinting into the sunlight. Somewhere in all of this, summer has arrived.

He's already inside the café, sitting at one of the outside tables. He bears no resemblance to the smartly dressed DJ waving to a sea of fans. He has dark circles under his eyes, his skin is so pale it's almost translucent, and he's wearing ill-fitting sweatpants and a stained white T-shirt. He barely makes eye contact.

"Listen," he says, "I shouldn't be telling you this. Nobody knows. The founding team is a mess. The CEO has three other projects, and one of them is under investigation for fraud. Get out now. Do it today."

He stands up. "I've got to go," he says, and walks off.

"Hey," she calls after him, as she does during his appearances. But this time he stops and turns around, if only for a moment.

"Thanks," she says.

***

She goes home and puts her house on the market. It's sold immediately. The IVRS is far from its peak, but the house still sells for exponentially more than the purchase price when Iro was a ghost town. As soon as the coins land in her wallet, she exchanges them for dollars.

Three days later, she signs a one-year lease on a new apartment. She's still a long way from owning her own home, but the apartment is clean and bright, and there are no roommates, no cat, just her.

Two days later, the CEO of Iro is arrested in California. The price of IVRS plummets by 80%.

She is relieved to have escaped in time. But she knows she'll never make it in this town, and also that she doesn't have to try. There will always be another game.

She writes to the barista, "Where is the next world?"

He sends her a map.

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