• If you just happen to be living in San Francisco in the upper corporate district, then get over to my house as soon as possible and get me out of here.

    I mean it.

    My house shouldn’t be too hard to find. It’s the giant glass one sitting on the top of the mountainside, overlooking the district. I seriously doubt anyone would bat an eyelash if you just pulled up the driveway looking for me. They’d probably think you were my girlfriend.
    Scratch that. I mean my ex-girlfriend since probably about three this afternoon. It doesn’t matter anyways. I just want the heck out of this town before eight tonight, before my parent’s dumb “Going away party”. They told me it’d be a chance to say goodbye to all my friends before we left for Texas. I knew it was just another one of their little fancy dinner parties to show everyone what a perfect rich family we are. I need to get out of here.

    I’m sitting up in my room right now. It’s the only thing I really enjoyed about living here. The walls are a dark mahogany, and the carpet is a rich, dark red, which contradicts the floor to ceiling windows pretty well. Instead of a bed, a black futon lays open on the left side of the room, a blanket thrown over it. Right across from that is a desk where stacks of my old papers lay haphazardly over a running laptop, and a Nexi- TV buzzes the Internet news on my favorite channel.
    I’m not watching it though; I’m sprawled across the leather ottoman, which is facing the floor to ceiling windows. My arms are flung across the chair’s arms, and my legs are sprawled apart, one flung over the chair’s left arm, the other bent normally, so I look as if I had a stroke on the right side of my body. My brooding expression does nothing to help this, nor my scrunched up eyebrows.
    The only thing out of place in my room is a scatter of ripped up papers, and the smashed bits of a plastic cell phone cover. A bio-ink pen is broken apart,its fluorescent light blue ink dripping across a poelan board, with the once floating words: Carina + Adrian.
    My fingers play with the cold plastic of the black trash bag that is sitting next to me. Adrian would be me. Carina, my perfect ex-girlfriend. I guess you could say it was bound to end up this way. It usually does.
    My eyes are avoiding the red cell phone that’s teetering on the edge of my desk. The screen is no longer lit up, but that’s because I pulled the battery out of it, and smashed it to bits. I almost curb-stomped my phone, but I decided not to.
    That’s the way she broke up. A text message. Just one sentence:
    I THINK WE SHULD SEE OTHER PPL 4 NOW.
    She didn’t even bother with grammar, which was the least thing she could have bothered with. It took her about three seconds to find another “PPL”, which is where I found her at the mall. Sucking face with Erick Finn, some freaking transfer from Cunningham High, which was apparently the high school where they served raw meat for lunch, and beat the students with sticks. To make the better of my awful situation, I had a pissy fit in the middle of the hologram boardwalk. I literally broke down crying at Carina’s feet as her mucho- junkie boy mistook me for a hobo and tried to rip me a new face. I ran off after that, and hid in the nearest nano-fume reaking Holister store. The rest is a bit hazy after that. My nano-bots were not liking the nano-fume at all. I do remember seeing one of Carina’s little poelden-faced friends, totally perfect due to a painless surgery called, you guessed it, poelden . Anyways, I started screaming at this poor girl telling her to tell Carina she was a dirty little… well, you know. That’s when the coppers showed up and dragged “poor little emotionally compromised” Adrian off the scene. Luckily, my parents weren’t home when the cops dropped me off. Our house keeper, Pim, was the one who opened the door. He’s the only one who really seems to care about the crap I get into, He was pissed, but he was used to me getting brought home by cyber cops or streetwalkers, or whoever thinks that I’ve become to much of a public neusence. Pim gave me the “Your parents are gonna learn about this if you don’t go to your room right now, Mr.” look, and I knew better not to hang around. I wanted to be alone, too. Then I destroyed everything that connected me an Carina, or had anything to do with our two year relationship. Which brings us back to now.
    Yeah. The pounding sensation in my forehead is trying to drag me back into reality, and away from the blissfulness of ignorance. Kicking the black trash bag off my knee, I sit up, leaning forward to put my head in my cool hands. The soothing sensation calmed me down. A flicker of lights on the wall finally dragged me back down to reality. My mother’s face filled the hologram that swerved and dipped across my wall. She looked plenty aggravated, but her voice was melancholy and reserved.
    “Adrian..?” Her question did nothing to stir me. “Your fathe-, I mean, I’m very disappointed in your behavior tonight. Pim told me what happened. It was upsetting to learn that you broke up with that nice girl, Carina. Poor little thing..” She murmured. I dug my fingers in my curly dirty blond hair to stop myself from screaming. I took a deep breathe, almost missing her next line.
    “Your father wants to.. talk.. with you. It would be best to get downstairs quick, while he’s still in a good moo-“ I cut off her sentence by flicking off the holo bored. I stood up, the blood rushing to my head slowly, creating a tingling sensation while my nanos tried to fix the lack of blood. I walked over to my lights, flicking them off, and shutting my door behind me. It was time to go down to dad’s lab.