free-fall

Chapter 1

"Prison"

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September, 2066

Jersey City, NJ

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I used to think freedom meant no longer needing money, like it was something that held us captive. Now? Now I thought about home, and how quiet it used to be. I didn't dream anymore, not with the footsteps that kept me up at all hours, and the sound of steel bars clinking on their tracks like the wheel of fortune, right before they slammed shut. Those repetitive sounds echoed through the cells every day and night. This was the final year of my life sentence, and I wasn't sure if I'd make it out or if I'die in here, but no matter what, I knew for sure I was going somewhere. Anywhere but behind bars.

Granted, I wasn't getting out today, but I did have somewhere to go. I pushed my way around the people in front of me, avoiding the bigger ones. The line I was in slowed to a crawl as I got closer to where I was headed. It was a long hike up the steep, flat inclines that lead out of general population and past a checkpoint into maximum security.

Having finally reached that glass enclosed desk way up on the ground level, I asked for a specific guard named Chris. It would take a minute. Other guards stood around with their dog leashes in hand, their eyes looking inquisitive and their German Shepherds growling at everything that moved. On that note, I became invisible, refusing to look in their direction again. There was only so much they could wonder about until Chris came out from the surveillance room.

I discreetly handed this overweight man a heavy roll of twenties from a pocket in my jumpsuit, careful that nobody saw. Because of that, I was escorted up to the part of the prison that general population inmates were never meant to see. Mason was the only exception I knew of. He'd recently paid off the guards to allow him to move, but only after failing to prove that his life was being threatened by a gang of teenagers at the far end of his cellblock, which might've gotten him solitary confinement if he pushed it any further.

We were climbing stairs up to the second level, where the newest max-security inmates resided, when I got an idea that I always got when doing this.

"Is it cool if I take a shit before I go see him?" I asked.

"Yeah, it'll cost you though," he said through the slightest grin.

"How's dinner sound? Down in general population," I joked.

Max-security guards didn't have the clearance to go down to where I stayed, not that they wanted to, and their prisoners didn't get their own toilets either. Instead, each floor had one communal bathroom and a row of showers so that they couldn't burrow their way into the sewers, or something like that. At least, that was the explanation I'd gotten.

"Yeah, I'll go down there the day they serve Filet Mignon," he said

He starting pacing up and down the cellblock as I found the first entrance into the large bathroom, and his jingling keys caught the stares of the people he was watching. I sat there on the toilet even though I didn't have to go, just thinking to myself. I heard maybe one person washing their hands, but no one was watching though, a feeling that meant more than you would've thought. This was the closest I could get to the life I used to know.

I had little control over my imagination, and my mind took me all the way back to the bottom, seeing it like a camera drone maneuvering through the cellblocks. In the peripheral vision of my mind's eye were the countless co-inhabitants, I didn't even have to turn my head around.

I could've looked and seen them sleeping behind bars, so many people dying slowly, but my focus was straight ahead. Who knows what they dreamt about. I didn't ask myself why, I asked if they even could, and how. After all, here they were in this hopeless hell of a reality; with nowhere to go and nothing to see, this was where dreams went to die.

Life was the same old story, even after the judge threw the book at me. I woke up hoping to find happiness before death found me, but for that I had to find a way home. For the record, not even home was free, not with bills and taxes and such. Toss those aside like they didn't matter and anybody would have nothing.

In here I thought about true love, I thought about who I might leave behind, I even thought about the places I'd go in a perfect world. In here I was surrounded by two million indifferent faces, and I walked behind them through cellblocks so confined that it felt like the place was overflowing with people. Space was what I missed the most. Not the stars in the sky either, but simply fresh air that hadn't already been inhaled in that same moment, and room to move my arms without elbowing someone else in the ribs, as if I cared. Not only did it smell bad, but anywhere outside of my cell was completely claustrophobic.

The bars weren't meant to keep anyone in, they were to keep everyone else out, that's why they opened and closed from the inside. That's why the first thing the guards told you was how impossible it was to escape. They told you how the complex went a whole mile underneath Jersey City, a small peninsula of its own, and how thick the concrete was, and how many times they'd shoot you if you still found a way out... That was wishful thinking. In a capitalist society, everyone and everything was for sale, even the idea of freedom.

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To pay my way back to Manhattan, I became Mason White's middleman, and now I owed him money like I always seemed to. He was the ex-CEO of a drug corporation, the people who were allowed to sell you an addiction for an honest living, and he sold them in here, too. The funny thing was, even in prison, money was more important than life itself. If not, why kill for it? Why sell drugs instead of breaking big rocks, or any of the other prison jobs that paid Nike wages? If crime wasn't personal, it was profitable, and there was nothing that could stop people from doing what they did for money. It meant that much. The worst thing you could do here was refuse to see that, and if so, you wouldn't last long enough to know better.

It was a huge building divided into a "top" half where women lived, closer to the surface, and a bottom half where they kept the men. It was like two huge rectangles stacked on top of each other and built beneath the forgotten part of the city, a barren wasteland now. Jersey City was razed twenty years ago, torn down and deconstructed into vast fields of weeds and nothingness. The struggling metropolis shrunk into the shadows of Staten Island, destined to become the industrial lots of the future.

One of those lots had higher hopes than the rest, and that was where one of the worst ideas ever conceived came to fruition: A correctional facility with "unlimited" space, which would also contain the prisoners by using as few guards as possible. The reasoning? The operators of the place put a lot of faith in the design and the expensive security features. In truth, they were calculated efforts to cut out poor decision making, the most troublesome of human mistakes. The way I saw it, those poorly made decisions were all I could count on in order to escape.

When you knew the layout of the building, which was a problematic thing for an inmate to know, the concrete rectangle seemed to stick out of the ground like an excavated fossil, and within those cells above ground-level they kept the "maximum security" prisoners. An open air courtyard and a separate cafeteria, which served actual food, were among the amenities offered to the upper level criminals, a distinction Mason went above and beyond to secure ever since his own arrival. He was determined to prove that the only way out was to make it to the surface.

Underground, there were 42 levels of cells divided evenly in half, and one hundred cellblocks per level. Then there were probably a dozen other levels of storage corridors, indoor activity courtyards, and a handful of cafeterias that served artificial food. I wasn't sure how many people there were per cellblock, but the numbers didn't add up, not to mention that "only" two million inmates seemed like even more wishful thinking.

Running out of space was something that should've been addressed years ago. They kept thousands of the newest residents in long storage corridors until new cells became available, which was determined when the metal wristband that tracked our vital signs, among other things, realized that some of us were no longer alive. It's safe to say people weren't dying in here as fast as they were breaking the law out in the "free world".

Ever since the justice department standardized life sentences, "mega-prisons" like this one became the inevitable solutions to the "crime epidemic" that refused to die off. Why the phrase "crime epidemic" was taken so literally could've been a reaction to something real, and maybe we were being quarantined... But then, I didn't have the answers, all I had were two legs to run as fast as I could if I ever saw daylight again.

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Whatever he wanted, he simply paid the guards and he got it more likely than not. It wasn't cheap but it worked. If anything strange or unusual went down, you could bet that a guard or two had been paid. Everyone wore a slim metal tracking wristband designated for their cell, the same one that could tell corrections officers your vital signs, and they'd simply given him the one for where he was staying, so technically he belonged there. Of course, computer files had been hacked and swapped around to make it official, but who was there to say something otherwise? Behind the batons and the rent-a-cop clothes, they weren't upholding the law, they were just working to pay the bills.

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'Hudson', as we called it, had reasonably sized cells with two sets of doors each, one of them being the traditional bars and the other, a mesh screen made of steel. I saw it in my head as an iceberg, because the ten story building on the surface gave you no concept of how deep a mile was underground.

The place was bare fluorescent lightbulbs on every part of the ceiling possible. It was the seemingly endless corridors and the cold, concrete floors, dirty and disease ridden. It was prescription pill proliferated, it was repressed masculinity released in unnecessary fights to the death and similar homicides, it was the pervasive hopelessness in the air. It was the looks that told of tragedy, limited traces of technology, and one sad story after another, not to mention the terrible tasting meals which you grew to tolerate. It was purgatory, if not worse. I knew I could no longer live here and still call myself 'alive'. I was gonna either live life for real, or I was gonna die sooner rather than later.

With 2 million people in here, or more, and damn near 30 billion people in the world, the word crowded was redundant. In here, a world within reality and yet a mirror image of it, there was a thriving black market that could've passed for an economy. You could go to a certain cell to see a guy who had what you needed, no questions asked. He'd have guns, knives, maybe even explosives depending on who. It's a wonder we all hadn't killed each other yet, knock on wood. There was some measure of social order, some minuscule traces of morality, and any drug you wanted, especially wax.

The unofficial currency was wax, or liquid THC, but anybody preferred dollar bills if you had them. Money was quintessential, but not really all that common. Low quality prison wax never got you too high compared to the real drugs, but that was far from a bad thing. Most of us weren't high on heroin, whittling away at toothbrushes to prepare for our next kill, we were smoking wax in our cells or doing what we did to get paid. We even talked sometimes, too, and escape stories doubled as both current events and comedy, usually beginning with bribery and otherwise ending in failure. In that case, it was back to buying wax in general population.

Every day and night, the patterns of behavior repeated themselves. There were traffic patterns in the hallways, meaning literal human traffic, and all sorts of unspoken etiquette. There was a semblance of self government, and that hands-off administration was the main reason I was so far along in my plans.

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The only two people I'd reconnected with from my past life, Ja'Rel and Corey, always begged to come up with me, they hadn't even seen a real woman in years. I'd bring them if it was feasible, but even sneaking me in and out was pushing the limits of the system. Derailing Mason's escape plan was apart of my own, bu

I was on my third year, Mason was on month six, and yet already I owed him a small fortune. How did I find him in here exactly? His cell was at the bottom for It wasn't hard to sell the pills that he got me, and the microdust, but it wasn't easy getting him back every last penny. He'd recently made it clear that I wasn't getting fronted anything else until I paid him back, so I saved that money. He'd get whatever he got from me, and the rest was going to a couple guards that I knew.

When I finally came up on his cell, the doors were wide open. He was on his bed with a girl, she was sound asleep while he counted money quietly. No fear of being robbed, jumped, etc., he was living the life that I wanted to snatch right from underneath him.

"Close that door, nigga," he said, his voice was proper but the tone gave away his street background.

He was an older black guy with a bald head and glasses, he wasn't weak looking but he would've been invisible down with the rest of us.

I tapped a button and the steel bars slid shut.

"I can't get a nigga please? What happened to all those manners that everybody loved... You used to be a nice dude."

He laughed slightly.

"They're on vacation until I get my goddamn money, Rivera. Let me ask you something. You don't get high off of jokes, do you?"

I sighed, taking out the money I intended to give him along with a glass container of wax. I held out $1,500 out of the $2,000 I currently owed. It would've been nothing to me in the real world, back when I was still an architect, but in here it was a big deal. We weren't even supposed to HAVE money anymore.

"Oh, that's more like it! Keep it up, I might spare you the punchline," he said, snatching the cash disrespectfully.

"That's all I wanted. Does that look good to you?"

I was hoping he'd take the wax too, but he only looked at it a couple times, thinking hard to himself.

"I know it looks good to you, but I don't smoke that shit, you can keep it. You know the deal if you're short."

We were on the same page, but I visibly struggled with the idea of paying him over his alternative.

"This is gonna be fun, I got eight fuses today!" He slid a box of electronic junk from under his bed, they weren't exactly explosives yet. "You're gonna EARN my money, ain't no such thing as a free high around here. Ask your girl on the corner, I know you saw her."

I sighed even harder. Mason's particular escape plan involved a lot of hand made bombs, and he definitely wasn't involving his own hands. Even for the money I owed, it just wasn't the greatest way to spend my time, they took forever to make and I had no reason to think his plan wouldn't hurt my own, not if he found out what I was supposed to do with my freedom. That's why I sabotaged as many as I could, the trouble was getting it to seem like they still worked. Luckily I'd figured out a way.

"Do you have a bag for them? I can't carry that piece of shit box, it'll fall apart before I even make it down the hall," I said.

"Here!" he yelled, throwing a black nylon trash bag at me. "You're so fucking needy, do you know that? You're lucky I let you do this for me, if you were anybody else I would've had you dead three thousand dollars ago."

I filled the bag with the electronics and left without another word, smiling to myself at all the things he didn't know.

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"I thought you were out of wax?" Corey asked, packing some into the vaporizer.

The three of us were back in my cell, up to nothing but the usual. Corey was the weed man, or the wax man I should say, he did have a tendency to never move when he smoked too much. He was skinny, pale and kind of short, covered in tattoos from the neck down. Ja'Rel was black, but much taller and darker than I was. He was the strongest person around, all he did was work out and fight people. I was somewhere in between them, almost white and almost black, but with almost no hair, I got a shape up every day from the weird guy across the hall. At least he had a steady hand.

"Long story, I mean I only have this little bit until tomorrow."

"You know, you say that a lot man," Ja'Rel said.

"Say what, long story? No I don't..."

I looked around curiously, both of them were staring me down and about to burst out laughing. Maybe I did say it a lot, but only 'cause a lot of things I got into were none of their fucking business, no matter how much I liked them.

"Really Aiden? Give it a minute," Corey said, blowing a cloud of smoke right into my face.

"Don't hold it so long, the coil is fucked up. It gets way too hot," I warned him.

He smirked, and blew an even bigger cloud before he passed it. They both exchanged looks, whispering something I didn't have the brain power to decipher, I was too tired.

"So what's the deal with that sketchy trash bag then?" Ja'Rel asked. "Not like you had anything to clean up in here, you're the cleanest motherfucker I know."

"Right? What's that all about?" Corey added.

"It's a, uh..."

They fist bumped each other, and I couldn't help but laugh, we all did.

"Fuck BOTH of you. I just got that from Mason, you remember him?"

"The one that lives at the top, right? Who got me all that Conix ?" He asked.

"That's him," I said.

"How do you even know that guy?" Ja'Rel asked.

I thought about it, looking at them both, then down at the floor.

"I don't care if it's a long story, I'm just wondering," he said with a grin.

"Yeah, me either, you might as well tell us," Corey added.

I continued to think, glimpses of the past were coming back to me one split second fragment at a time.

"I'll tell you if you can make me a promise, and there's something in this for both of you."

"Okay, you're our best friend. What do you want?" Ja'Rel asked.

"I want you to promise me that after I tell you this, you help me get us out of here," I whispered. "You help ME, and me only, and if you do, I can take you to the Bronx, get a few beers and get both of you laid. How does that sound?"

They both had this look of profound shock mixed with skepticism. I mean, who wanted to get their hopes up about escaping? I understood that, I did.

"Why don't you smile a little wider, Corey?"

"No, we really do wanna leave."

Corey only looked more ambivalent by the second, but not Ja'Rel.

"I don't know about him, but I'm all about some Bronx pussy. I can kill niggas if you want, dig a deep ass tunnel with my bare hands, I'll do whatever it takes to get outta here."

"Count me in if he is," Corey said. "If you're the only one to make it back out alive, I'm gonna haunt the fuck out of you though."

I looked past both of them through two sets of steel bars, where I could see a pair of beady eyes staring from across the hall. You always had to be careful in here, you had to make sure nobody random knew what you were up to. That could sabotage an escape plan like nothing else.

"Come here and look in the bag, then I might tell you about how I got here," I said. "By the way, neither of you can let Mason leave. He wants to escape too, but he's gonna fuck up everything if he gets out."

"Why can't we just escape with him? Dude seemed cool to me, and how the hell would we stop him?" Corey asked.

"Too many questions, I'll get to that. Neither of you know him like I do, what I'm about to tell you will answer all that and then some, just hold on."

They both peeked at the unassembled bombs, making the appropriate expressions. I could tell they knew what they were, but it wasn't necessary to explain that whole situation until they knew why I wouldn't let Mason escape.

"You might wanna re-pack the vape, it's story time now," I said.

I got up and pressed a button, closing a solid metal door behind the bars. A little privacy never hurt. I took an extra-big hit of vapor when it came around, knowing it was about to be a long night.

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Part 1

"Days Before Prison"

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Chapter 2

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January, 2062

(Four Years Earlier)

Manhattan, NY

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One time, I found this gun back when I was finishing college. That was five years ago, and it hadn't worked a single time since. Keep in mind that I was almost 27 now. My daily ritual was three Conix pills when I woke up, who knew what time that could be on the weekend. As I popped those, I was watching some bad movie on TV, and I'd aim the gun at certain characters and pull the trigger. I even made the gun sounds myself to cover up that little click and the embarrassing silence that followed. It was so heavy, you just expected it to unleash all of this power, but I think the firing pin was probably broken. It was one of the old style revolvers made of solid steel, you couldn't find anything like it these days.

My studio here was finished with hardwood floors and white brick walls, not to mention tall windows. It was modern but plain, and still extremely small, but it's not like I needed more space. I was in a good place in the world, it's just that I was barely in that place. That place hardly even existed, it was the size of some people's closets. Unfortunately, my car was a whole different story, and not a good one. I could get to that part later I thought to myself.

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Every now and then the TV would scan your retina to detect boredom, and usually it would turn to a show that was just about due for a commercial break. After owning it for a few months, it really started to figure out what you liked and didn't like. It wasn't the greatest feature, but then again, the resolution may have had reality beaten. It was a flat panel 80-inch with no bezel, just a sheet of translucent glass and minimal circuitry. It was 10K HD, something about the colors made the world look a little better than it actually did.

There was some bald headed guy holding a press conference, I aimed the gun at him too. "Mason White", the full caption read. He was the new CEO of "Fossor", the big pharmaceutical company that had been in so much hot water lately. Where did they come up with the names I thought to myself. I could've probably been that guy who made them, I'm sure it beat the "architecture" that I knew, a slow death in an office cubicle. Speaking of slow death, their old CEO had overdosed on an entire bottle of Conix, their most popular pills. Funny how those could kill you, yet an old gun with six in the chamber couldn't.

It happened days before he was about to be indicted on countless corruption charges, and the company's stock plummeted. Now it was showing signs of life again because of this new guy, that's the gist of what I'd gotten from the news at least. I wasn't into investing, it was just interesting to me. Mason was fielding questions about Conix, their drug that a former employee claimed was being mislabeled.

"Sir, are you surprised by the the fourth quarter profits compared to some of the early predictions?" One reporter asked.

"With all due respect, those were your fucked up predictions, not mine. We put countless hours into working out the kinks in our new lineup, and nobody on my staff was pessimistic about replacing the best selling drug of all time with the most effective one ever made. We're bringing three new drugs to the market this coming fiscal year, it was only right that we continued the streak."

"What streak would that be?" The same reporter asked.

"Thirty months in a row of record breaking sales numbers! I already told my VP this, but I'm taking everybody on the board of executives out for dinner to celebrate! This means a lot to us here after that bullshit that went down, we made a vow to never compromise our morals moving forward. Consider this a rebirth for Fossor, we're already ushering in the dawn of a new era with Lunix. We can save the world with this new drug, but this is our last chance to do it the right way."

He gave a cool, slightly forced smile, but there was this smugness there too that he didn't bother hiding. They all may have hated the man, but they sure didn't hate the headlines, each interview saw a thousand young careers at stake. The pressure was on the reporters. It was a spectacle, that was the only reason I didn't turn the channel. Camera phones flashed in synchrony, and adolescent looking journalists listened like they were at their first opera, each answer was often immediately followed by crickets. To call it important was an understatement, and to call it unnecessary was to completely miss the point.

"Hopefully you go somewhere fancy enough for the occasion, sir," another reporter added.

"Damn right! Fuck it, you're invited too if you do me a favor!"

He smiled again as he waited for the question.

"What's that sir?"

"I want you to say you're sorry on behalf of all the young men and women here today, some of whom I recognize, and all the ones watching, everyone who had a part in the coverage of our late CEO. He's in all of our hearts still. That was a great man. I want you to apologize for him, and then maybe you could even choose where we go. I just got into a little argument about it, see, I was thinking steak but everybody else agreed on Vegan Thai... I'm not a fan of all that exotic shit. Not when it's on me."

His tone switched up like night and day, I'd never heard someone sound that serious so soon after smiling. It was borderline insincere.

"Sir, I'm deeply sorry about everything that..."

"You're sorry?!" He yelled with a crazy look in his eyes, cutting the guy off. "I'M not sorry, I'm KIDDING! It was a joke!"

"Shut the fuck up already!" I screamed at the television.

Nevermind changing the channel, I impulsively threw the gun right through the TV. It shattered into a million broken shards, leaving a gaping hole in the middle. It was the worst damage the revolver could've done to anything. The rest of the TV was cracked too and yet it hung on the wall like nothing happened, there was plenty of screen left. The impact was satisfying, but the feeling faded soon after seeing what I'd done to such an expensive machine. Then came the regret.

For the record, I did have a decent job at my step-father's firm. I was an architectural assistant, but I wasn't exactly made of money. When the sparks and the little bit of smoke cleared, the picture was surprisingly still there too. I got up to check it out, maybe it was an electrical hazard now. I had no idea.

"Shit, it works," I said, grinning in amazement.

The gun was on the floor, glistening in a pile of broken glass, but I wouldn't push my luck again. It was an accident waiting to happen so I left it alone.

The entire broadcast had gone silent, you could hear the dust collecting on my marble floor. Then he laughed, he couldn't go too long without lightening up. I was shocked that the audio still worked.

"You reporters, man... So disingenuous. That's why I love you guys, take care."

I wanted to laugh myself but I couldn't, instead I felt this burst of rage. It was funny what had just happened, the feeling was confusing me. I felt this urge to destroy things again, I couldn't help it.

I wasn't sure what got into me, maybe it was the pills. Maybe it was the fact that I couldn't laugh like Mason did; I couldn't just laugh at the past like a punchline. Maybe it was because mine was more of a bad joke, and I was enslaved to the idea of it for as long as I'd known. Without the past I was nothing, I'd have no clue who I was, and within it I was a handful of classic nights, I was countless bad days, I was barely any more than an expensive piece of paper. I was a devoted consumer and a complicit follower. I was everything that people I said I was and nothing more, but far less at my worst. I was success and failure simultaneously.

Without the past I was lost, and within it I was worthless, that was a fact. I was beyond frustrated. It was crystal clear where that feeling came from, I was only confused by the timing. That, of course, was definitely the pills at work, it was the only thing that made sense. Bad things happened when I needed them, and weird things happened when I was on them, I guess I could see how that was a fair trade off.

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Then I heard a knock on the door, somebody saving me from breaking something else I thought to myself. I took my time getting up. It damn sure wasn't one of my neighbors, I never saw a single one of them except when we came and left at the same time. They never said hi to me, they never even said hi to each other, I always watched them when I could just to make sure. Maybe they all secretly hated me.

I peeked through the hole, it was covered up. "Who does that?" I thought to myself. I opened the door and it was Quinn, my therapist, dressed down for the first time ever. She always had on the nicest clothes, even when she would've said otherwise.

She smiled when our eyes met like usual.

"Wow, that's crazy that you took time out of crocheting to come and see me," I said. "Did I ever tell you where I lived? I can't remember..."

"It doesn't matter Aiden. I know a lot about you, more than I want to. By the way, this session is on me. I know you were gonna ask."

She was right, but it wasn't cheap paying a woman like her to listen to your woes. I stepped out of her way to let her in. There were no chairs sitting out, I wasn't expecting anyone to come looking for me.

"Sorry about the clothes everywhere, it's usually clean."

I wasn't lying about that, I could be a neat freak when I had a reason to care.

"It's fine, I sort of like it. The grandma jokes would be funnier if they weren't true, I WAS knitting something."

"How'd I know... Is it for me?"

"No, it's a sweater for my ex-husband. It says number one douchebag, I already told him about it and he said he's dying to wear it. Isn't that the funniest thing you've ever heard? You can have one too if you want."

"I'm good, I feel like its tattooed on my forehead already."

She looked me straight in the eyes, then looked up briefly.

"Yup, I see it. It's right there, nice and bold," she said, we both laughed a little.

"Who's that sweater for again?"

There were a few ex husbands of her's, and we always went over this because she had a hard time keeping up with their names. She was still friends with all but one of them.

"What?" She asked impatiently like she hadn't heard me.

The TV was still going strong, but the audio sounded kind of weird so I turned it down some.

"Which ex-husband. Do you remember?"

The confused look on her face said enough, I grinned.

"Don't tell me there's another one already, I thought I was next. You pinky promised..."

"I did, didn't I... Let's not go down that road, you're the last person that needs to be interrogating somebody. I have a million questions for you that I don't know if I really wanna ask, the first one being, what the FUCK happened with that?"

She looked over at the TV, sitting down on the edge of my bed. That was everyone's first instinct, because even though my apartment was top notch looking, it was a studio, and a small one at that. The bed was right there when you came in, which was convenient. There was a kitchen and a bathroom on the other side of the wall, only the latter had its own door.

"Uh... I don't even know," I said.

"Whatever it was, it looks like it just went down."

"Yeah, it did. I think it was the mood swings, I had politics on again."

"Got it. I thought I was the only one who breaks things when I watch Fox News," she said sarcastically. "Is everything okay though? I've been calling you all weekend, I was scared something bad happened."

"What, that I killed myself? Or got hit by a bus? I know I should've called you, I just didn't want to. I can't get any work done on these pills, I feel like dying. I can't even hold a conversation half the time, I fucking hate this."

"You're holding a conversation right now..."

"Yeah... But that's cause you HAVE to talk to me, it's your job."

"I don't have to be here, I came because I care about you. Your mom is worried..."

"About what? She's always worried. I just... I don't know what I want," I said.

That was a lie. I was close to what I wanted, but the truth pretty much never sealed the deal. Not for me. The truth always needed doctoring, it was like fresh tomatoes compared to a jar of sauce from the store, a white lie, processed with all those preservatives and tons of salt, yet it tasted great. Only the darkest lies didn't go down easy, those needed something special.

"Listen. I was exactly where you are when I was younger, I'm not far from it now. But suicide isn't the answer, you don't wanna die, you wanna..."

"Live, I already know, I wanna live. I know that."

She always said that, but it was easier said than done. Damn near impossible really, at least that's how it felt now.

"Well, what do you live for? What's the best thing in life to you? The best thing period, hands down."

"Sex, obviously," I said.

"Well..."

She looked at me, it was this ambiguous look that could've meant anything.

"Well... I never go outside now, I can't go 10 minutes without breaking something, I hate myself... I know it doesn't sound good, but what do you think?"

The last time I had sex was a few days earlier with Courtney from the office, the second crucial mistake I'd made in my time there. I couldn't explain how or why. The first was still bad enough to haunt me, but this one just wasn't worth it, she was technically the leader of our little work group, almost my boss in a sense.

"I think you're full of shit, look at you. You're a great looking guy. Why are you so embarrassed to tell me about your sex life? All my clients do. It's normal."

"It's weird," I said.

"It's normal," she insisted.

"It's normal if we're fucking, it's normal if I'm sleeping with you, maybe, but otherwise it's weird. I'm not depressed because I'm not having sex, I'm not having sex because I'm depressed. There, that's all you get."

"That's fair, but why don't you ever acknowledge my compliments? It's like you tune them out," she said. "I'm not trying to make you feel better, I don't just say anything to anyone. All my ex-husbands have PhD's, and it's not like I show up at any of my other client's apartments. You should be begging me for a compliment, everyone does, trust me. I practically spoil you with them."

She always knew how to brag without bragging. Forget a degree, all those years in grad school advanced her ego like nothing else.

"I don't know, they're just words. Nobody else tells me that shit that you tell me, you probably make it up."

"Make up what, the fact that you're gorgeous?"

"Don't call me that, I'm not a fucking handbag, I'm not your hairdresser. I HATE that compliment."

I had to smile weakly to seem like less of an asshole, but I meant every word of it.

"See! I can never win! Why won't you let anyone love you? That's a great thing to say about somebody, I'm not putting you down."

"It felt that way for some reason, every dumb ass half-compliment feels like an insult."

"That makes me sad, hearing you say that. I don't want you to feel that way."

I sighed, she really wanted to do this right now. I had no intention of bringing therapy home with me, not the kind she wanted anyway. But then, what did she want? Why was she here, and why now? I had a simple answer.

"I can handle it," I said. "I mean, I know a way you could make us both feel better though."

"What?" She didn't look startled, only confused.

"That's what you wanted, right? You say I don't acknowledge your compliments, but all you want is for me to tell you how sexy you are. For all that, we could fuck right now."

"Well... Go on..." She said. I had her attention, but I wasn't quite finished.

"That's why this whole therapy thing isn't working, I'm wasting my money. You wear those fucking party dresses to work, and you know exactly which ones I'm talking about too, every day you tease me. I barely pay any attention, I get too distracted thinking about you."

"Thinking what?"

She looked somewhat lost in her mind, playing with her hair a little.

"You don't wanna hear this. I got the worst imagination, just all types of inappropriate shit. The worst."

"You're not gonna tell me, are you?"

"No, I can't now come to think of it. No way in hell."

"What the fuck, I wanna know! You can't say that and then not tell me, that's fucked up Aiden! You think I drove all the way from Long Island, on my day off no less, for you to disappoint me?!"

"You just got here, you don't have to leave disappointed... I have all day."

"You know, you talk an awful lot before sex. How long did this take, four, five minutes? I don't even wanna hear it anymore, you'd be better off showing me."

She cut to the chase and started undressing. That's more like it I thought to myself, I was almost scared that I blew it.

"Now?" I asked half-seriously. "Can you give me a minute to stretch?"

"Now or never," she said.

:.

I woke up hours later, sweating and looking around the room. Quinn was still there. I thought I'd be happier afterwards, having gotten what I wanted, but that wasn't the case. I finally felt alive, but I had more energy than I could handle at 3AM. I couldn't sleep again, those pills didn't do shit for my insomnia. It was this dream that kept waking me up, and tonight was the third night in a row. The details would change, or I'd only be in one part of it at a time, but it was always the same dream. Fresh in my memory were glimpses of falling with nothing underneath me but asphalt, the last thing I saw before I woke up. I was all the way at the ending. All I could do was stare out my window down at the street lights, waiting for another sunrise.

::.

Chapter 3

:.

Eleven Months Later

December, 2062

:.

It was 1PM and my room was still dark, but only because I liked to sleep with the blinds closed. I woke up covered in sweat, my heart was still racing. Almost a year later and the dream was just getting more vivid.

I realized I was already late for my appointment with Quinn, so I was in and out of the shower, a bath was not in the cards. Five minutes later and I was gone. I found my dusty jeep in the parking garage and started to fill the tank up with water, I always hated the low pressure hoses that my building supplied. The fact that the truck was twenty years old didn't help, just because it was water powered didn't mean it wasn't a piece of shit.

I prayed for it to start as it made struggle noises, but the engine came to life finally and the jeep lumbered down the street into a maze of traffic. I suddenly regretted driving, realizing that I should've taken the subway. It would take me most of the day to move three blocks, let alone all the way downtown.

:.

It seemed like there were more souls in the city every day, New York's population was officially over 50 million. Unofficially there may have been 5 million more, there was simply too many people. No wonder they said the island was sinking, but Manhattan wasn't quite Venice yet. The World Trade Centers looked a little short compared to some of the newer corporate skyscrapers and apartment high rises, mine being one of them. Sitting in traffic, my 60th floor studio seemed like it was up in the clouds.

I illegally parked across from the place where Quinn worked, a huge circular building with contemporary styling. It was a block away from Wall Street, and it always surprised me how busy a psychiatrist's office could be. Who knew how many therapists and pharmacists they had on staff, but it somehow made some of the banks look like church on a Friday.

:.

"Go ahead Aiden, take your time," Quinn said, swiveling around in her chair.

Her office was spotless as usual, but there wasn't a single decoration on the concrete walls.

"My fault, I overslept again," I said.

"I guess that insomnia is working itself out, right? Good thing I changed your prescription, you don't have to stay long today."

"So am I on Lunix yet?"

I was a little more excited than I should've been, the new drug she promised to put me on was probably just more of the same. Conix was a pill created to cure most diseases, mental and physical, including cancer. Of course it had its flaws, that's why they were phasing it out with Lunix. Both drugs were still light years ahead of anything else on the market, even considering the withdrawal and the stomach pains. I wasn't complaining.

"Not quite, I need you to look these over and confirm the change at the end."

She slid her tablet across the desk. It was a clear sheet of glass rounded on the edges, but you didn't need the screen. It had one, but it holographically projected websites and applications as big as you needed them to be, and you could flick through the air where they were in order to do what you needed to do. It was genius. Mine wasn't in the greatest shape though. The cracks didn't change how it worked, but I wondered how she was careful enough that hers didn't even have much more than a few scratches.

I thumbed through the page projections, skimming over legal speak and side effects that most people never got. There was no question I wanted to take Lunix, I needed it. I was already on 6-8 Conix pills per day, this updated version couldn't be any worse. I confirmed at the end and gave her the tablet back.

"You doing anything this Wednesday?" I asked her.

"Yes, I'm busy all month. You finished yet?"

"I guess," I said, we both got our stuff and headed out.

"No hard feelings Aiden. I think I'm losing my fucking mind, I have to go to a funeral for one of my 'problem' patients."

"I won't wait up," I said, trying to stand my ground between all the people walking through the halls.

"We both knew this was never a long term thing, you and I. You're more than welcome to invite yourself to that funeral though, I'd love the company."

"See you next Saturday, right?" I said with a little smile, and she disappeared without a confirmation.

I honestly didn't even need to see her, all I needed was my pills. I didn't have many more come to think of it, and I was allowed to get one last refill of Conix before my prescription was updated. I went to the bathroom first, unable to shake this vague disappointment. I popped the last couple pills I had left. Finally I looked in the mirror, searching for a flaw or a reason I could no longer have what I wanted, any excuse would cut it. Wrong colored shirt today? Showing up late didn't help, I knew that.

:.

It took a while for me to reach the front of the line at the pharmacy down on the ground floor.

"Aiden Rivera?" A receptionist asked.

"That's me," I said.

"Can you do me a favor? Look into the camera on your right for me, and put your index finger on that touch pad at the same time."

I did as she said, staring into a camera which I could see focusing on my eye. She swiped through medical document projections on a tablet of her own. A few seconds later and she disappeared into the back, returning with a couple opaque pill containers, each held 30. They were made of this flimsy plastic which really felt like glass, but it was hard to tell the difference. I only pocketed one of the bottles, hurrying up to try and beat the mid day traffic. I would crack the other one open on my way home, but only to get a couple more for the road. I quickly walked through the main lobby, a huge atrium with a glass ceiling that stopped about 10 floors up.

The rotating door usually gave me a little trouble when there were so many people, I hadn't been looking where I was walking as I stepped out of it. That's when I walked right into a blonde haired girl who was headed the same way I'd just left. We both went flying to the concrete along with her cup of coffee and my brand new bottle of pills. I got up almost instantly, scrambling to pick up as many as I could while she helped herself off of the pavement. Nobody stopped to help, people merely walked around the two of us.

I managed to save a dozen before I looked up, somebody was standing over me. It was the blonde haired girl. Looking closer, she was a little underdressed for the weather and her hair was obviously dyed. The streets were lined with week old slush, but it was as cold and windy as ever.

"Really? You're gonna save your fucking pills after you almost knock me unconscious?" She said.

She didn't necessarily look angry, just surprised.

"Excuse me? You ruined this brand new bottle, you think they're gonna just give me more? I'm not rich, this is my fucking paycheck I'm picking up."

She sighed and got on her knees to help me, I'd maybe gotten half the bottle before I started to go for the coffee covered ones.

"I get it, it's all my fault, but are you really gonna take the wet ones too? They're getting all mushy, that's disgusting..."

I made a face that said 'damn right I'm taking them' and held a hand out, which she filled with a few mushy white capsules. No, I probably wouldn't take those, but why not see if she could reimburse me?

"You never heard of the two minute rule?"

She smirked, half amused, half confused.

"You mean two seconds?" She asked.

"No, it's actually two minutes for drugs. Germs and pills don't get along as well as you'd think."

"I can buy you a new bottle, two more minutes and those things might not even be pills anymore."

"I see your point. You would buy me another new bottle though? Do you know how much these cost?"

"I'm going in there for a reason, so yes, I know all about your little Conix pills. I used to take those for 3 years," she said.

I gave her a skeptical look, no way she'd do something like that for a stranger.

"I got about as much of a chance seeing that new bottle as I do seeing you again, so why don't you just buy me lunch instead?"

She looked intrigued, staring for a few seconds without saying anything.

"I know who you are," she said.

"Yeah, me too. My therapist disagrees though."

She laughed a little, and we both got out the way of the huge crowd taking up the sidewalk.

"No, I'm serious. I graduated high school with your older brother, you probably don't even remember me..."

"If you're friends with Blake, I probably don't even want to, let's be honest," I said half-jokingly.

"That's fair, I wouldn't say we're friends these days. More like, I let him into my house, trusted him and everything, and he stole from me."

"He always liked stealing, I do remember that."

"I don't make much money, and we were cool since grade school, I never thought he would do something like that. It kind of hurt, I haven't talked to him since then. He always used to ask about you. Aiden, right?"

I hadn't seen my brother since he ran away in high school, he was three years older than me. That meant she wasn't exactly the same age as me either, I didn't recognize her at all. As many girls as my brother would bring home, she could've been familiar at least, but no way I could even guess her name.

"Yeah, and you are?"

"Maya."

We sort of shook hands apprehensively.

"So you really don't remember me?"

"I don't remember shit, especially not school, it's nothing personal. Please tell me we dated though."

I couldn't help but smile, hoping she'd remind me of how cool I was or some other shit that wasn't remotely true. A man could dream, right?

"I'm flattered, but I was taken back then."

"And now?"

"Now, it looks like I owe you one, doesn't it?"

"No, you don't owe me lunch, it's on me. I don't pay for that shit anyway, the Conix, don't even worry about it."

"Oh, I get it now," she said, grinning. "You sure you don't sell it? If not you should look into it, you would do alright."

"I tried it once, the pay sucked though. I mean, tell me this isn't a match made in heaven. Apparently we're both crazy, and you're well acquainted with my brother, who definitely does sell something illegally, but I don't know about Conix... What could go wrong?"

"I like the attitude, but you know, a little more optimism never hurt. I can't promise you I'm not insane, but you don't strike me as being that crazy yourself, that's not exactly the right word for it."

We both looked at the puddle that was once coffee and prescription medication, now it looked like watery mud and melted snow. Not to mention I was still holding an open bottle.

"I know where this is going, and I can stop any time I want."

"That's what they all say," she said with a certain look in her eyes. She didn't have good intentions, I could tell. Neither did I.

"You hear that a lot?"

"Yeah, but it's all talk. You know how hard it is to give up something you love?"

"Especially when it loves you back. By the way, are you still going in there?"

"Fuck! I was already 5 minutes late, and I got caught up talking to you, I completely forgot..."

"I guess we're even now."

"For now," she said. " I still wanna go somewhere nice, it's on you, right?"

"Uh, shit. I guess so, I can't say no now can I?"

I suddenly regretted making the offer, I should've gotten her to pay I thought to myself. My funds were at an all time low with the bullshit hours I was getting at the office. I didn't want her to change her mind, but we weren't going somewhere nice, it just wasn't happening on my budget. We exchanged numbers and she disappeared into the crowd, meanwhile I took the long way home, satisfied for the moment.

::.

Chapter 4

:.

One Week Later

December, 2062

:.

I was running through the darkness over barren hills, seeing rocks on the ground but always missing them. The clear sky was dotted with countless stars, but I had no destination, so it was the light of the full moon that helped me see where I was going. Men were chasing me with guns and angry dogs, which I heard behind me, but when I looked back they were only losing ground. The thing was, there was a lot of them. They shot white tracer rounds into the night, which kept me from slowing down even though I was out of breath and hurting.

I thought about stopping to hide somewhere as my legs got tired, they were killing me, but then I hit the wall finally. They got so numb that the pain started to feel good, I felt rejuvenated every time my feet landed. When I wasn't looking at the ground in front of me, I peeked up at the Manhattan skyline. It was breathtaking around this time, and before long, nothing stood between me and the city but a short cable bridge and the Hudson River.

With the armed men chasing me, I didn't have much of a decision to make. I ran into the river rather than trying to cross the bridge, but the men had enough time to make up ground as I dragged my feet through shallow water. It was crystal clear when I made it all the way in, but the white tracer rounds kept coming through also, just missing me. They made bright little splashes on the surface, a dozen or more at a time.

I dove into it as the bullets sped past me, and they were making it to the other side way before I was. I didn't dream of stopping. I swam as fast as I could, quickly made it beyond the ledge into open water, and fifty feet down I could see the Hudson Tunnel, a freeway built of concrete and glass right on top of the riverbed. The river only got more narrow towards the bottom, it was almost like an underwater canyon. I was intrigued, swimming a little deeper. Cars racing through the tunnel cast this light that shined all the way to the surface, and I could still see the skyline from where I was, all around me it was a light show. Then I noticed that I was only slowing down, why wasn't I moving? My prison jump suit was filling up with water, I realized that I was sinking the more I tried to swim back up for air. I was caught in the middle of the river, literally in over my head.

I kicked my legs harder than ever, reaching my arms toward the glimmering lights on the surface. I felt the current taking me under, knowing I'd gone down too far. I was slowly drowning, paralyzed by regret and the fear of death.

:.

To my amazement, I felt my arms reach up through the water, splashing it all over the bathroom floor. I felt cold air on my hands and my face, I was home. The bathtub faucet was still running but the whole thing had overflowed. I coughed up the water I'd been choking on and tried to catch my breath.

Needless to say, I was already running late for work again. I didn't head for the parking garage, instead I rode the elevator 60 floors down to the lobby, which took under a minute. I walked around the block to the subway station, a dramatic building with a curved glass overhang and a steep series of escalators. Generic murals took up entire walls. People took up every square inch of space in every single direction, each one of them moving. Car traffic was slow but on-foot commuters were shuffling along at the speed of light, no matter how far they had to go or what exactly they had to do.

I pushed my way into a vandalized subway car. The train looked like a bullet, shiny and streamlined. It took half of the ride just to find somewhere to sit, I had to push my way to the front. The seats were nice looking but uncomfortable, there wasn't much cushioning. The windows were big and the lights were kind of dimmed. I got off several stops away which didn't take long either, I'd somehow make it to work just 5 minutes late. The train was so fast that the tunnel walls and the outside world went by like a blur.

:.

Sebastian Greene, my step dad, leased the top three floors of this place for Greene & Associates, the architectural firm that he started. It was an amazing building on the corner of 7th and Wall street, more a work of art than a place of business. He always emphasized artistry himself, but my designs were never as creative as they seemed in my head, even though he wouldn't admit it if I asked.

Not many of my fellow designers were crazy about me working for my step dad, and I couldn't blame them. But a job was a job.

Before most projects we usually split up into the same groups of three, and with our labels of "Architectural Assistants," Garrett and I were the unsung heroes. We bounced brilliant ideas off of Courtney, one of the lead interior designers who I'd been having an inexplicable office affair with. She gladly took both the ideas and the spotlight every meeting, giving great presentations while we stood around looking useful.

I was neither a good architect nor a ladies man, but I held my own when it came to the women at work. Our specific dynamic was awkward to say the least, but nothing was touching the hate-chemistry I had with Jade, a junior interior designer who slandered my name around the office for valid reasons. She was both my first and my worst mistake that I made at the firm. To make things interesting, Jade and Courtney were close colleagues, but the way women talked shit about each other made it hard to figure out how close.

:.

I got off the elevator with time to spare before the weekly meeting. We clocked in with a simple eye scanner, but luckily Garrett had mine saved on his retina display, a single contact lens that could snap pretty pictures and display all sorts of information. Despite working well enough, I never found it that helpful and lost my corporate issued one not long after I got it. With some clever programming, it could even copy and project someone else's entire retina.

Garrett was a Korean grad student who liked Lunix almost as much as I did, and didn't have the best reputation either, not to mention his otherworldly computer skills. When I first met him I was inclined to think he lived on the Internet like most geniuses, but he did more drugs and supposedly got more women than I did, which wasn't difficult. You would've at least thought it made him happier or something, yet in reality, he was a flawed, miserable fuck like anybody else. We were the same for different reasons.

:.

He was the second most well dressed guy at the office, and our only competition was the transgender girl down the hall who wore sequined t-shirts under her suits. I mean, those were a bad joke on anybody, even though her Blazers were professionally tailored. But Garrett was my only male acquaintance in the whole office, and that was fine by me. We weren't too far off from each other at all, and that's the reason why we had no desire to be actual friends. I spent enough time looking in the mirror as it was.

Anyway, I could tell that Garrett had used his retina display to clock in for me even though I was technically late. I headed for my office and hung my coat up, carefully closing an opaque glass door behind me. I avoided turning my latenesses into big scenes if possible.

Garrett was sitting at my desk watching the other day's episode of Starvation Nation. It was a reality show where diverse participants were locked in a modern mansion and forced to eventually fight to the death over diminishing amounts of world-class food. Naturally, cameras zeroed in on the food, the sex, and the fights to the "death". It was obviously a little scripted, but it was still an entertaining take on sex, culinary arts, architecture and basic survival tactics. Not only was it porn, reality television and a dystopian drama all in one, but was also a beautifully shot TV show with no content limits whatsoever, anything could happen. It didn't win awards due to the lack of a plot, but it didn't need one. It was ubiquitous for every reason possible.

"Bad news Aiden, they finally fired you," Garrett said without looking away from the projection.

Sebastian gave us all tablets just like the one Quinn used, they definitely made work easier.

"That's supposed to be bad news? Just tell me Jade is staying, in that case I'll be fine. Good look covering for me by the way," I said, grabbing a seat.

"If anyone asks, you went out to get coffee."

"You told Sebastian that?"

"No, but Jade did, I don't think he even cared so you're in the clear. Looks like you owe me one."

"Fair enough. You need more of the usual?" I asked.

We mainly traded in Lunix pills, which he didn't have his own prescription for.

"I don't wanna freeload today but I can trade you something good, check these out."

Garrett turned off his tablet and pulled out a lump of aluminum foil from his blazer. He unwrapped a few small, shiny blue pills, they were almost perfect spheres and had no markings on them. In turn, I took out my pill bottle and poured him five Lunix capsules.

"What are they called?" I asked, rolling the little blue ones around in my hand.

He leaned in close over the desk and started whispering, looking around suspiciously.

"Listen, I could, but I'm not gonna bullshit you, they don't have a name yet."

"What? How do I even know what they are?"

"Trust the turn up Aiden. When I say that these get you fucked up, I mean you should probably take one at a time to be safe."

He hadn't done me wrong yet, there wasn't really a reason not to trust him. At least he knew what he was getting into, even if he couldn't always explain it.

"So what kind of fucked up, you mean good fucked up?"

I handed him 5 Lunix pills.

"Just completely fucked..." He trailed off, looking lost in some story I probably wouldn't believe if I was there to see for myself.

I'd asked him before when he had the same expression, so I knew that's how they usually went with him.

"Remember, one at a time. Don't kill yourself or I'm moving into your office, I already called dibs," he said.

"Who else thinks I'm gonna kill myself?"

A second later and the door opened, it was Courtney peeking her head in. Me and Garrett exchanged faces, and he nodded. I felt a little embarrassed at the thought of how that conversation went, and how the two of them rarely had good things to say about me. These were my closest work buddies after all.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything shady."

"Nope, just two guys having a completely work related convo," he said straight faced.

"That wasn't weird at all..." she replied

Our eyes converged on the blue pills and the bottle full of Lunix that was still sitting on my lap. Courtney shook her head. She stared the entire time I was putting it all away, there was this weird look in her eyes. I had no idea how she felt about it. Truth be told, I didn't know anything about her except that she was pretty impulsive and much better at design than I was.

"Too late now, I saw that Aiden. I need to talk to you guys before the meeting, come on."

:.

We followed her upstairs to a little mini-atrium outside Sebastian's office. That was where we pushed together chairs every Friday to pass around our proposals for the biggest project of the week. We'd been working on a block of condos in Brooklyn, and I actually carried my weight for once. I sent her all my concepts throughout the week, but I hadn't finished the greatest design I'd ever made until the night before, it was truly my best one yet. You could always tell when you came up with something special.

"Guys, I need some final opinions on these," she said.

She opened the designs that we'd both seen before but couldn't recognize, a combination of mine and Garrett's with really nice furniture that she added. When she finished working her magic on them, they weren't even really ours anymore, which is why nobody objected to her taking the credit. Everything we did publicly as a design firm had Sebastian's name on it anyway, so it didn't matter, I just wanted it to be known that I was good enough to be apart of the team. It wasn't the easiest message to convey to certain people, no matter what I did.

"You know how I feel about your work," I said.

"Yeah, depending on what day it is and what mood you're in. You've said that before in a bad way..."

"As a joke! Come on, they all look great, especially that last one. You're the best designer here!"

She knew I was being honest, but strangely enough, talented people had a hard time with compliments. Not in my way, where they didn't believe them, but probably in the sense that they found them useless.

"I was gonna say the same thing about the last one. Do you remember who's it is?" Garrett asked.

"It's in the name of the file, I can pull it up. Gimme a minute."

She started a task that would've taken Garrett two seconds to finish, and he knew it, I could see the slight frustration in his posture. Computers weren't her thing at all. She fumbled around through her emails while the rest of the team pulled their chairs together and waited for Sebastian to come out of his office.

Somehow, she ended up opening youtube and projecting the video to this embarrassing pop song in front of everybody. Most of the room was too tired to react.

"I can help you out," Garrett said, closing the video and going through places in the tablet Courtney and I didn't know existed, closing them before we could read anything.

I forgot to ask who's design it really was before the meeting started. Somebody dimmed the lights, and finally Sebastian got things going.

He was a plain looking guy with a cool haircut, who owned an incredible amount of plain suits. He attempted to be charismatic yet usually came off like that try-hard dad who you liked anyway. But then, maybe I was a little biased, after all nobody else here was aware of how old he really was.

"Alright, happy Friday everyone," he said. "For the record, I don't wanna be here either. I know you're all dying to get outta here, so lets wake the hell up and get this thing started. Any volunteers?"

Courtney raised her hand as usual.

"Anyone that hasn't been here as long as I have? Jade?"

Jade shook her head, sinking into her seat. She was the same skin color as I was and had long, jet black hair. I couldn't say she wasn't the best looking out of all the women at the firm, including Courtney, but she was a little too crazy and definitely didn't have the whole tenured-boss vibe going on, not to mention she hated me.

"Courtney it is. In that case, let's get this over with, I want these to blow me away. Clearly nobody else is interested in winning this week."

She went through one design at a time, standing in front of the room so everybody could see her navigate around the projections. It was cool to look at everybody else's work when you didn't have the weight of being judged on your shoulders, but I didn't have that luxury. Each critical comment or "tip for next time" felt like a slight, despite the fact that half of them weren't even aimed towards me.

:.

"I obviously like last one the most," Sebastian said. "The second to last one is pretty interesting too. Colors are a little muted, but it works. Who are these two by, if you don't mind me asking? I know it's not how we usually do things, but they're that good."

"The second to last one is mine, and I think the last one is Aiden's," Garrett said.

"Aiden's stepping it up!" somebody else yelled from the back, I couldn't recognize who.

"Yeah, I'm rather impressed," Sebastian said.

"I think it sucks. I like the one right before it better," Jade said.

"I agree," one of her partners co-signed.

"Actually I got that mixed up, he did the second to last one and the last one is mine," Garrett said, correcting himself.

"That's my fault," I said.

"Yeah, Aiden never puts his name in the titles, it's so confusing," Courtney clarified.

"That being said, Aiden's design is growing on me too, go back to that one," Sebastian said.

She pulled up my design, which featured a lot of concrete and marble. It was pretty good.

"Actually, I think I like the other one better," Jade said, completely backtracking.

It was hard to resist, all she wanted was to piss me off. She succeeded.

"What?! You're gonna change your mind that fast? You're a hateful cunt, you only hate the one that you know I made!"

"Fuck you, Aiden! You're the worst designer here! Everybody only compliments your work out of pity, 'cause we both know you have no business even doing this!"

"Jade, that's not true at all," Sebastian said nervously. "Aiden is not the greatest but let's give him credit where it's due, he and his team consistently impress me with their confidence. That wasn't constructive criticism, that was a childish, insecure outburst. You're not confident enough for a promotion, and this is the proof. I hate to say that in front of everyone but what you just said was uncalled for, you have to realize that. This meeting is over, we're using Garrett's design. Everyone check your email this weekend."

Jade stood there another moment, deep in her feelings, meanwhile everyone else packed up and went back to their offices to finish working and/or leave. I was going home.

I tried to find Courtney on my way out, it was awkward approaching her because her head was always somewhere else. I pussied out, catching up to her in her office after gathering the rest of my stuff.

"Hey Aiden, what's up?" She asked flatly.

I left the door open, Garrett's office was right across the hall from hers.

"Nothing really, getting ready to go home and work on these designs for next week," I said.

"That's right, you're the one who does that. Have I seen your place before? It's been killing me that I can't even picture where you would live."

"That's weird, I was just thinking of how crazy it is that you haven't."

"That's not what you came to ask me about, is it?"

"No. You got any plans for later? I was thinking of going out to this bar, you know, you should come."

She made a strange face.

"I'm going out with Jade and some of my other girlfriends. I'd invite you, but that might be the dumbest fucking idea anyone's ever had, right?"

"Wow. Well, I can't argue with that, the bitch is crazy."

"I know, isn't she? That whole thing she pulled today was so embarrassing, but I've been blowing her off for weeks now and we had a lot of fun last time, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be."

"You can still, uh... See if Garrett wants to chill!"

We both glanced across the hall to see Garrett nervously examining his eyes in the mirror.

"Hey Garrett, is everything okay?" She shouted loud enough for him to hear it.

He took a second to react, giving us this delayed look of confusion and terror before closing the door.

"Well..."

"Yeah. But let me know how the night turns out. Maybe you could come check out the place later on."

"You would love that, wouldn't you," she said with a grin.

"I just wanna surprise you, you probably think I live in The Bronx or something."

"I'll see how things go, I got a lot of work to do now though. I'll text you later," she said, gracefully dismissing me from her presence. I was trying to leave anyway.

I stopped and looked at Garrett's door for a second, then kept going. I couldn't help but feel disappointed again at how things turned out. It was deeper than one day though, it was everything. I had no moves for the night, no text back from Maya, no nothing. I didn't have SHIT.

:.

Id be lying if I said I didn't spend most of my time on elevators, escalators and public transportation. I knew my destination, but I spent countless, untold hours alone under the lights of the crowded streets, never quite there. We live alone and we die alone, that's why we need each other more than anything. I believed that, yet it was always other people who let me down, or the other way around just as often. Me personally, I needed those moments of clarity on a packed subway car, listening to my favorite music, not recognizing a single face. I needed the time when I heard my own inner voice loud and clear, the soundtrack to my solitude. That was the only time I was ever satisfied with what I meant to the world. I felt like a man born to do great things, but stuck inside the soul sucking routine of normality.

Escalator down, push turnstile, step on subway, nudge person in front of me, step off. Escalator up, open lobby door, elevator straight to the top, almost there at least... 60 floors up was pretty damn high. I was never afraid of heights, I bought the place just for the view.

I was just about home. All I had left to do was to open the door. I sat on my bed and kicked my shoes on the floor, seeing what was good with that aluminum foil. It didn't have to be such a boring night after all. Courtney wouldn't have to call, I could have a good time by myself.

Genuinely forgetting Garrett's advice, I popped all of the blue pills. It was too late when I remembered what he said, and by then everything was out of control. I wasn't afraid to die, but I knew it was too soon, I had no idea what was about to happen to me. I broke out sweating and threw up on the floor before my vision faded to black. I was past gone.

::.

::.

Chapter 5

:.

Two days later

December, 2062

:.

I didn't wanna open my eyes ever again, the light was too bright. For a second I thought I was in the afterlife, but no, I was back at home. My bed was too familiar, and I could hear someone in the kitchen going through the refrigerator.

"Where's the fucking food? You don't have ANYTHING to eat here?"

It was Quinn, I could tell by her voice.

"Check the cabinets," I mumbled incoherently.

All I saw were shapes until I wiped my eyes clean.

"Oh my god," she said, coming back to the room. "I think it moved..."

I cracked a smile for a second.

"What happened?" I struggled to say.

"Hmm... What happened. So you missed two straight appointments and I came here to find you barely breathing, I had to get people from the front desk just to unlock the door. We swore you died at first."

"No hospital?"

"No, no hospital. You slept it all off. Whatever you took to try and kill yourself, it was too much, you threw it back up."

"I wasn't trying to, it was an accident..."

"It was an accident?! You have to be joking. Your whole life is a fucking accident, right?"

I wiped my eyes off and sat up in bed, noticing that I was starving.

"What if I said yeah, it actually was? How would you feel?"

"I'd feel like sleeping with you was an accident too. I feel like giving you that new prescription was definitely an accident. Did you want me to save you again, was this just a cry for help?"

The sound of what she said was downright repulsive, I couldn't help but tense up.

"I don't need your help and I never will. I want it, and I'd love to have it, but don't make this all about you OR your criticism. I can live or die on my own without feeling guilty about it, what the fuck is the point?"

She started to cry, trying to hold back. It was safe to say that things between us had completely fallen apart.

"You're breaking my heart! I'm not going to another funeral, that's the last thing I wanna do! Is that what you want?!"

There were tears running down her face, ruining the makeup she'd caked on. I got up out of bed, but she was already going straight for the bathroom without even looking my direction. A few moments later and she was out the door.

I slept until sundown and woke up feeling worse than ever, I needed something to eat bad. All I had were these nutrition bars that tasted like artificially sweetened air, the boxes were collecting dust.

:.

For as long as I'd spent doing nothing, there truly wasn't much time for guilt, I had to hurry up and get over it. Maya had gotten back to me about that date and I was supposed to pick her up whenever I willed myself to leave.

I read the last message a few more times for reasons unknown. I just wasn't that used to dates, most of my greatest work happened on the fly.

"See u soon. Wearing something sexy ;)" it said.

I, on the other hand, wasn't wearing something sexy. I threw on some fitted sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, with a warm winter coat over that. The weather factored heavily into my decision, and it was below freezing out in the snow covered streets. It wasn't a bad look what I had on, but feeling like I was on the verge of death, I went with comfort over style. We damn sure weren't going to a five star restaurant, little did she know.

:.

I didn't get my hopes up about where the night was headed, the jeep was already giving me problems. The biggest one was that the water tank easily froze in the winter, so you had to wait for this built in heater to get going before you could even run the thing. Starting it after that brought its own set of frustratingly strange engine sounds.

Because of the solar panels on the roof, the electric components could run indefinitely. That was important, because it was hard finding her place in the snow; it was already turning into another blizzard outside. I needed the heater running for as long as possible. Plus, she lived in Harlem, the land of double parked SUVs without their hazards on and row houses with their addresses missing a number or two.

I finally found the street, and by then, I no longer saw my breath in the car. I texted her, and a girl wearing all white came out from a row house finally, but she immediately started walking the wrong way. There was a project building across the street and probably a trap house at the end of the block, keep in that mind I hadn't known which one was her's. I wasn't judging, I was always just curious about where people lived considering my job.

I honked once. The snow made it impossible to see beyond the end of the street, but once she saw the car and got in, I was sure she hadn't lied. Maya had these perfect curves that I somehow didn't remember, with white leggings on and a white leather jacket. She also had on a big gold necklace that seemed a little gaudy, but I was still impressed. It was hard not to feel like a bum myself, but she was the one who would look out of place at Burger King.

Actually, that's not where we were headed, I wasn't THAT fucking cheap. Instead, my search for the nearest golden arches gave us plenty of time to talk about absolutely nothing. Five minutes later and we'd only gotten five blocks away. The whole time I wouldn't tell her where we were going, claiming it was a surprise, but I wasn't bracing myself for the disappointment like I should've been. I figured she'd think it was funny if anything.

"No..."

She didn't look happy at all when we pulled up on it.

"No? What's wrong with mickey d's?"

"You cheap fuck, you said we were going somewhere nice!"

As we got out, she gave me this death glare, one of the worst I'd ever seen.

"I meant, uh... Nicer than checkers, I mean it is nicer than checkers, isn't it? Come on..."

I was desperate for it all not to blow up in my face like usual.

"No, not even! This is all my fault, I should've known you'd pull something like this when I saw that piece of shit car!"

"I'm sorry Maya, but where's your piece of shit car?! I'm doing the best I can! I'm fucking broke!"

Truthfully, as nice as my little studio was, the rent and utilities took up each and every one of my paychecks, I didn't have much left afterwards. At least she knew what she was getting into sooner rather than later. She looked down at the snow. Both of us were freezing.

"I understand why you're mad, I just... When we met, you were this really cool, laid back girl, and I just didn't think you would be into all that pretentious, fancy shit," I said.

People walking into the McDonald's would stare at us two, standing out in the cold screaming at each other. Come to think of it, she was far from laid back, and neither of us were particularly right, especially me. Still, we kept at it.

"Why?! Why the hell would you think that?! Look at me, that's exactly what I'm into!"

She had a good point, but hindsight was 20/20. She paused for a moment, cooling off a little in the process.

"Besides... Aiden, I WORK here..." she said with a certain amount of embarassment.

I couldn't hide the look of regret on my face, realizing why she'd made such a big deal about it. Not that a different McDonald's would've been better, but as it was, it was the perfect storm.

"I don't care where you work, not even a little bit," I said.

"But I care! My boss is in there, and he's always trying to hit on me, and it's... I don't even EAT here unless I'm working."

"Look, can we either go inside or just leave? I haven't eaten all day. We could even use the drive through if you want, and I could take you home if this was such a disaster."

She thought it over for a moment.

"No, don't do that. It's not you, it's just that I work here... That's the main thing. And I didn't expect anything crazy, but we could've stayed at my place if you wanted to eat something microwaved and unhealthy."

"You should've said something, you never gave me much to work with," I said, laughing a little at the whole thing.

She finally smiled again.

"I had a bad feeling, but I didn't think you would do THIS. I really would've been okay with checkers, I swear."

We both started cracking up, and finally we went inside. I couldn't feel my fingers, struggling to open the door. There was only a small handful of people sitting down, and no line, it was desolate.

(INSERT SET HERE)

Some douchebag looking guy named Brady was waiting to take our order, he had on one of the special manager polos and a gold name tag. This was the guy.

"Maya, I sort of overheard that argument, and if you need help just say the word, you don't have to put up with some abusive asshole like that," he said, giving me the side eye.

"Thanks Brady, but I'm fine," she replied without looking directly at him.

"Hey, if you're talking shit, you can say it to ME," I said. "We just came by to help out with last month's rent, that's all."

He rolled his eyes, not once diverting his intense gaze from her.

"You never texted me back, what happened?"

"I've been uh... pretty busy," she said.

"Well you look pretty hot tonight, what are you doing later?"

I could feel her cringe as he said it, and one split-second glance gave me that confirmation.

"I had a few things in mind," she replied flatly, finding my hand with hers.

It took him a second to put it all together. "Yeah, you can fuck off now," I thought to myself.

"Who the hell is this guy? Your cousin?"

I could see the resemblance myself, aside from being two or more different races, and the hair color, and her blue eyes... Yeah.

"No, this is my boyfriend Aiden."

I looked more than a little surprised, and when she looked into my eyes, so did she. I shrugged. Of course, we had to go with it for the time being, no matter how much she would probably blame me for it all later.

"Oh, okay. That's cool," he said, sounding like he was trying to save face.

"Can we fucking order already?" I asked him.

:.

Naturally, I went big, getting two premium veggie wraps and a large smoothie. But Maya easily outdid me with a Quarter Pounder and a ten piece nuggets. They weren't called chicken nuggets anymore, and the actual ingredients listed on the box were these chemical compounds that were hard to pronounce. Fast food chains didn't sell meat anymore at all, not even on their burgers, it was just too expensive with the livestock epidemics of the past decade. I tried the alternative before and it tasted alright, but too mushy.

"We just went zero to a hundred with the whole boyfriend thing, huh?"

"I know it sounded crazy after everything I said before, but it was the only way he would leave me alone. The guy is so fucking annoying," she replied with a mouthful of fake-burger.

"Better lock the windows when you get home," I said, looking over at the register.

He was trying his hardest to stay busy, I felt bad that the place was even open in such shitty weather.

"No, don't say that!"

She laughed for a second, but it must've hit too close to home. I could see the genuine fear.

"What if he follows us back to my place?" She whispered.

"He would have to go through me first."

She gave me this look, the one that she gave me the first time we met. I wasn't sure how I still had a chance.

"You would fight for a girl who might already hate you?"

"Everybody thinks they hate me, it's just how I am. Besides, I had a really shitty past couple of days, and the last thing I wanted was to give you a bad time."

She scoffed.

"What is it, 9? The night just got started. Bad would've been if you took the bus to meet up with me, and we both had to walk here in the snow. THAT would've been bad, this was just annoying, but it's alright now. I was pretty hungry too."

I got a bad feeling of my own as she said that. The jeep was due for a classic disappearing act, it never came through when I needed it.

"I'm not exactly gonna wine and dine you, but I would never pull some shit like that. I'm not THAT broke."

"Oh, you say so now... Speaking of broke, I was talking to your brother the other day," she said.

She was no longer talking with a mouthful of food. I couldn't help but notice her burger gone, and the chicken nuggets well on their way. She was eating faster than I was...

"What did he want?"

"Some business proposition, he said come see him to catch up and talk it over. He only lives like three blocks from here."

"You think it's about money?"

"I KNOW it's about money, but I don't know if he needs any from you, he didn't say much. He made it sound like he wanted to help you out though, I said you probably didn't need it."

"Yeah, come to think of it, I probably need it," I said. We both laughed.

"Just be careful, he's not the guy that you think he is. He'll do anything for a dollar or two, he's a sociopath."

"I'll be fine. It runs in the family."

"Don't get caught up in the drugs and the fake ass people looking for a fix, it took me three years to get myself out of that."

"Three years?"

"Closer to four. Why do you think I work here now? My dad is a cop and HE can't even get some of my old charges erased."

"They couldn't have been that bad. I mean, what did you do, kill somebody? Seriously though, maybe your boss over there should be the one worried..."

"Maybe he should be. But I got caught for possession so many times... I always thought I got a slap on the wrist back then, but when I have myself together now, I can't even find a job."

"Don't worry, you're not missing much. I work for my step dad and everyone there hates me, it's not that great. Plus it barely pays the bills."

"Beats minimum wage. My dad pays for all my stuff too, only difference is I'm like two steps away from being homeless."

"Impossible... Do you know how beautiful you are? There's guys at my job that would give you everything they own just to breathe near them."

"And you're not one of them?" She said with a smirk. "I've been looking for a man like that since I got out of rehab."

Her face immediately changed.

"You okay?" I asked, obviously noticing.

"Did that sound bad? I was kidding, I'm not that kind of girl, I'm not some drugged up slut. I haven't even been high in two years."

"You're fine, I didn't believe you anyway. You're all talk," I said. She smiled nervously. "We can't change where we've been, that's what makes us who we are. I could tell you about my lows too if I wanted, some of my flaws."

"Go ahead," she said, looking for some reassurance.

"Why would I talk you out of a good time? I'm obviously not Mr. Perfect. What good is understanding who I was, when this is the man I am now, right here? You can let go of the past, it's already gone."

She had this intense look in her eyes, I wasn't sure what to make of it yet.

"You know, I really like you," she said. "But don't let the past sneak up on you. We always forget who we were, until we remember. If you don't have a reason to remember, you'll never change."

"Don't worry about me trying to change, it never works anyway."

:.

They say time flies when you're having fun. The worst part is having a bad memory too, cause all too often I found myself in the middle of some bullshit situation with nothing from the past to show for it. I wasn't really into wax these days, so naturally I had to blame it on the pills.

I say that because one minute I was in the middle of a great conversation, and the next, I'm pushing my jeep through a blizzard, alone no less. Of course, Maya was still riding shotgun, but she was too small to help me. The parking space at the end of the block I was going for felt like it was a mile away, even though Maya's place was right past the next intersection.

It took me a while, I was scared I'd find her asleep when I was finished. That wasn't the case.

"This isn't that bad on the inside," she said when I got back in.

I told her I wanted a few more minutes in the heat before I had to walk her home. She insisted that the jeep wasn't starting again, but I couldn't put anything past it.

:.

She lagged behind a little as I was walking up to her row house, something felt strange but I didn't know why. The only sign of life was the lone taxi here and there.

"It's so fucking cold," I said, regretting my choice not to find gloves.

I looked around, her hands were behind her back.

"It is, isn't it," she said with a wide grin.

I'd seen the look before, and there was only one thing coming. I decided to let it happen, I had something better up my sleeve. The second time I turned around, it was to the sight of a huge snowball coming straight for my head. She burst out laughing at the top of her lungs, but I wasn't so surprised. I was already planning on getting even.

Not only was it freezing cold, but the impact somehow swept me off of my feet, I fell flat on my ass. I couldn't even talk yet cause I had a mouth full of snow. Obviously she was still laughing by the time I got up, keeping her distance.

"I hate you," I said, spitting out bits of ice at the same time.

The more I moved, it got all down my shirt, not to mention that I was covered in it.

"I'm sorry Aiden," she said. "I had to, I was planning that since we first got to McDonald's. I was gonna do it in the parking lot."

"No, don't apologize yet," I replied.

I clumped together a bigger snowball as she watched, it was too big. I chucked it and it fell into a few smaller ones, but they all missed.

"There, are you happy? We're even now. Truce?"

I thought about it, still kind of annoyed at how cold I was. I would lie and then get her back when her guard was down. I held my hand out.

"Alright, that's fair. Truce."

She reluctantly came closer to shake on it, her house was only a few doors down from where we were. As soon as our hands met, I grabbed her and tried to push her into a big mountain of snow on the corner, one that the plow trucks made. She screamed and held on tight, and we both missed the pile, going down onto the sidewalk. There was a good foot covering the ground already, so it was a soft landing. We were both laughing as loud as ever, it was a far cry from where the night started.

I wound up on top, so I thought about it for a second, realized that I wasn't going home cold AND alone, and went straight for the kiss. It worked, and a minute later I was racing her inside. I started to take off my wet clothes and slammed the door shut behind us. It was a good night to say the least, and I couldn't say a thing when it was over, I was too tired. There were no nightmares or anything worth caring about outside of that feeling that I felt, I didn't dare try to put it into words. Once again, I was gone.

:.