Armageddon: The Broken Man - ACT 1

Chapter 9 - The Cool Kids

Chapter 9 - The Cool Kids

>KEIRA FELTNER

//EXTRAS//PLAY//ANON__CHAT//

ANON: heeey feltner

ANON: i'll ignore the fact that you won't respond

ANON: can I just say

ANON: I wouldn't have sent those pictures

ANON: oh nvm that was Dames

ANON: lol whoops

ANON: whatever

ANON: warning: be prepared for a sh*tstorm

ANON: i'm talking about hurricane katrina

ANON: but with screaming, insults, and general f*ckery

ANON: ugh the built-in censor is the death of me

ANON: but you get my point

ANON HAS DISCONNECTED

ANON HAS RECONNECTED

ANON: almost forgot

ANON: remember the name GL1TCH

ANON HAS DISCONNECTED

//REBOOT__MONITOR//

They wouldn't stop pointing at me. I heard my name over and over again, but whenever I searched for a speaker, everything dropped to silence.

They giggled and gasped, pointed and smirked. Friends ran over to other friends, showing them something on a phone before leaning in to whisper the details. After that, they wouldn't stop staring. It was a neverending cycle, and all of the pointing and laughing was really starting to piss me off.

Go ahead, go ballistic. You've got a valid FHTC permit anyways.

"War," I mumble to myself, giving one particularly loud group the death glare. "this really isn't the time."

They can't arrest you unless you kill someone.

"War, please don't."

And even then, all you have to do is show your other FHTC license.

I let out a sigh, just as my phone buzzes in my pocket; it's a call from Nixon. I need to escape this sound bubble, so hopefully I'll be able to hear him; on my way out the main doors, I show the security guard my permit, and he says something about it being a little early for a company call. I wave him off, and just plop down on a high-ish ledge.

"Hello? Keira Feltner speak-"

"What were you thinking?" Nixon blurts, obviously panicked beyond consolation. "I-I trusted-" He inhales sharply, and I give a strange look to the apple tree a few yards in front of me. "You said you wouldn't-"