A Year Without Rachael Ezvalt | A Friend, a Hurricane, and a Legend

Last Updated on: 16th November 2024, 10:58 am

It’s hard to wrap my head around this: a year ago today was the last time Rach logged into Second Life, and a year ago tomorrow is a year since she passed. This year has been both the slowest and the longest of my life, all at once. It’s an odd thing, losing someone you know through Second Life, there’s never any real closure.

I’ve been trying to figure out how to honour her. Part of me wanted to write 10,000 words packed with every crazy memory I have of her. Like the time we took Chandra shopping for a new skin and ended up in a frying-pan fight in the middle of the store. Or the time someone bumped into her, and she called them a twat, staged a dramatic sit-down protest on the floor, and loudly declared she was being “bullied in public.” Rach wasn’t just a person—she was a fucking hurricane of chaos and humour that drew everyone in, whether they liked it or not.

But in the end, I decided to tell the story of the first time I met her. That moment changed everything for me. It’s the story I want to share today.

The Night I Met Rach at Candy’s Sex Hotel

The first time I met Rach was at Candy’s All-Inclusive Sex Hotel. It wasn’t the kind of place where you’d expect life-changing connections to happen, but so many came out of it, and that’s where it all started.

She’d just applied for a job there, but she wasn’t getting a warm reception. Earlier that day, I overheard Caroline and Christina talking about her. Caroline was pissed—apparently, Rach had trashed her old workplace during the interview, which Caroline saw as a major red flag. I nodded along, thinking, Yeah, that doesn’t sound great.

But Christina defended her. She told Caroline she knew Rach and thought she’d be perfect for the hotel. She didn’t take sides—Christina’s smart like that—but she vouched for Rach. That stuck with me.

Still, I wasn’t convinced. I hadn’t even met her yet, but I already had her pegged as a drama magnet. In my head, I’d decided she was going to be trouble.

First Impressions and Assumptions

A couple of nights later, around 1 a.m. UK time, Rach walked into the hotel. I was halfway through my shift when she sat at the bar, immediately catching my attention. She carried herself with this mix of boldness and defiance, like she was daring the world to tell her she didn’t belong.

I leaned against the counter, watching her, ready for the drama to start. Caroline’s words were echoing in my head. I thought she’d be negative, loud, and just too much to handle.

But the second we started talking, I realized how wrong I was.

Yes, Rach was blunt—brutally so. She didn’t bother with sugarcoating, and that could be jarring if you weren’t ready for it. But there was no malice in it. She was honest, raw, and unapologetically herself.

She had this way of making you laugh, even when you didn’t expect to. Her humour was dry and sharp, and she didn’t hold back. She made fun of herself as much as she did everyone else, but it was always with a warmth that made it clear she wasn’t being mean.

The Wild Style That Defined Her

Rach wasn’t like anyone else I’d ever met in Second Life. She was larger than life, and not just her personality. Her avatar had every slider maxed out to create this larger-than-life figure. Massive hips, enormous tits—if there was a way to make her presence bigger, she found it.

She didn’t stop at the body, either. She would have neon hair one day, be dressed like a gynoid the next. Her outfits were as wild as her personality, and she never gave a single fuck about whether her look was “marketable” or “client-friendly.”

Some clients loved her for it. Others couldn’t handle it. But she didn’t care. She had fun being exactly who she wanted to be, and that happiness radiated from her.

The Stories That Came Out That Night

As we talked that night, I learned something that amazed me: Rach had been one of the original founding members of the legendary “Street Whores” sim.

If you know anything about Second Life’s escorting scene, you know how iconic that is. “Street Whores” isn’t just a place; it’s an institution—a place that inspired people like me. Sitting across from her, I couldn’t believe I was talking to someone who’d been a part of that history. Her involvement in that is a whole story that is ultimately what lead me to where I am now, owning Street Whores.

She told me stories about it, and I hung on every word. It was clear that she’d seen and done it all, and she wasn’t shy about sharing the highs and lows. Every story tore away at the assumptions I’d made about her. She wasn’t just some troublemaker. She was someone with depth, experience, and a knack for making you see things from a new perspective.

At one point, we got onto the subject of rates. I don’t remember exactly what I was charging back then, but I think it was around L$2000 for a half-hour session. Full-service sex, no bullshit.

When I told her, she let out that ridiculous “LOL” animation, that was the first time I saw her use it. She looked at me like I’d just told her the world’s worst joke. “Jess, I think I’ve been charging the wrong rates,” she said, mock horrified.

I couldn’t stop laughing. That moment stayed with me.

The Final Conversation I’ll Never Forget

Thinking about our last conversation still hits me like a truck. I had COVID at the time, and she wasn’t feeling great. But Rach being Rach, she downplayed it.

She told me to go rest after joking about syncing my Lovense toy to death metal (which I didn’t do—I’m not that fucking insane). I told her I was worried about her, but she brushed it off. She made me a promise: she’d be better by the time I got back.

That’s just who she was. Even when she was struggling, she didn’t want anyone to worry about her. She carried so much more than she let on, and she always put others first.

A Year Later | The Hole She Left Behind

It’s been a year, and I still miss her every single day. Rach wasn’t just a friend—she was a part of my life in a way I can’t explain.

She kept me sane, pulled me back when I was about to do something stupid, and always found a way to make me laugh. She was chaos with a massive heart, a fucking maniac who cared so much.

She was always trying to help, especially with my blog. “Blimey, Jess,” she’d say when I showed her my traffic numbers or told her how things were going. She always found a way to push me forward, to make me believe in what I was doing.

It would be easy enough to celebrate her privately, to mark the day in my own way. But there’s a part of me that’s fucking terrified she’d come back and scream at me for not writing about her.

Rachael Ezvalt was one of the most amazing people I’ve ever known. And even now, a year later, I miss her every single day.

Love you, bitch.