In the niche but fervent world of choice-based visual novels, few titles have carved out a reputation as uniquely caustic as Class of ‘09 . The original game, released in 2021, was a sleeper hit—a pitch-black comedy about the hellscape of American high school in the early 2000s, told through the eyes of a deeply misanthropic protagonist, Nicole. It was raw, uncomfortable, and relentlessly quotable.
No matter what you choose, Nicole’s life does not get better. You can make choices that lead to less immediate catastrophe, but the game denies you catharsis. There is no redemption arc. There is no moment where the bully gets their comeuppance or the principal is exposed. The Re Up argues that in the real world, especially for a poor, sharp-tongued girl in 2000s Virginia, the system is rigged. Your choices matter, but only insofar as they determine the flavor of your suffering. Visually, The Re Up retains the signature anime-inspired character portraits over realistic backgrounds, but the palette feels even more washed out—a pale green, sickly suburban tint. The soundtrack is once again a time capsule of early 2000s emo, nu-metal, and indie sleaze. Songs from bands like Thursday and The Used underscore key scenes, weaponizing nostalgia to remind you that this era—with its low-rise jeans, “rawr XD” culture, and post-9/11 anxiety—was not innocent. It was just as messed up as today, only with worse internet. Final Verdict: A Cruel, Brilliant, and Essential Experience Class of ‘09: The Re Up is not for everyone. If you need likable characters, hopeful endings, or a clear moral lesson, look elsewhere. This game is for those who appreciate comedy as a scalpel, cutting into the abscess of American adolescence to see what festering truth lies beneath. Class of 09 The Re Up
(Five stars, but only if you’ve already given up on humanity.) In the niche but fervent world of choice-based
The plot, such as it is, follows Nicole as she navigates the usual Class of ‘09 staples: friend breakups, predatory authority figures, drug deals gone wrong, and the ever-present threat of suicide being treated as a punchline. But The Re Up adds a new layer: domestic dysfunction. Nicole’s home life is a suffocating void of neglect and passive aggression, which grounds her sociopathy in a disturbingly believable reality. The original game’s secret weapon was the chemistry between Nicole and her best friend, Jecka. The Re Up wisely elevates Jecka from a supporting foil to a near-co-lead. While Nicole remains the deadpan anchor of cynicism, Jecka gets more room to be the voice of (slightly) more grounded frustration. Their text message exchanges—a new mechanic in The Re Up —are a highlight, capturing the authentic, brutally funny way teenage girls communicate in the early 2000s (AIM away messages, flip phones, and all). No matter what you choose, Nicole’s life does
It is funnier, darker, and more ambitious than the original. It expands the world without explaining away the mystery of Nicole’s nihilism. And it ends on a note so bleak, so resigned, that it makes the first game’s conclusion look optimistic by comparison.
However, The Re Up doesn’t give its cast an easy out. The game is merciless to its characters, especially the new additions. Without spoiling specific endings, it’s safe to say that The Re Up features some of the most disturbing and bleakly hilarious “bad ends” in the series. One route involving a classmate named Kylar and a misunderstanding about a “hit list” is a masterclass in comedic escalation turning into genuine tragedy. If the first Class of ‘09 was a grenade, The Re Up is a cluster bomb. The humor is intentionally offensive, targeting everything from school shootings, eating disorders, statutory rape, racism, and transphobia—not to endorse these things, but to hold them up to the light of Gen Z/early Millennial absurdism. The game’s central thesis remains: the world is broken, adults are useless or predatory, and the only sane response is gallows humor.
In a medium flooded with dating sims and power fantasies, Class of ‘09: The Re Up stands alone as a monument to despair. It’s a game that hates its characters, hates its setting, and occasionally hates you for playing. And somehow, that makes it one of the most honest pieces of interactive fiction in years.