Sector 10

Chapter 2

For me, it was sometimes routine to go to the bar after mission; a place where I can drown out unwanted thought and internal nagging.

After walking through the cluttered streets for a bit, I took a sharp turn into a dark alleyway. Stairs led down to a metal door. Muffled music could be heard from inside. I clutched the cold handle and pushed the heavy door open. It groaned as light poured through. The inside of the room was much brighter than the outside. Hidden in between the crevasses of the darkly painted walls were strips of multi-coloured neon light. The floor was a light grey concrete and there were white couches bordering the lowered indents in the floor. The main bar lay ahead. The bartender, Elias, was concocting a variety of drinks behind the counter with the same stern, concentrated expression.

Tugging at my hood, I walked over to the counter and slumped onto one of the stools. I ordered a bright pink drink and started sipping, inspecting the fellow customers as usual. Many were drunken syndicate members sitting on the couch with a perfect-looking girl snuggled up to them, also drunk and possibly fiddling with their host's gun. Sometimes they accidentally shot the roof before bursting into a fit of maddening giggles. Syndicate members normally wore multicoloured button up silk shirts with tattoos lining their pronounced muscles. That was simply their fashion, being obnoxiously and dangerously conceited. I daresay it's similar to the magnate's preferred style.

If they weren't a syndicate, they were probably someone very attached to their laptop or phone. Someone usually labelled as a 'hacker,' who are blamed for spreading political misinformation and cyber-attacks. I always thought they were harmless. A few people of other categories and groups were scattered around the bar. I could spot pawn brokers and street musicians among others, mostly minding their own business.

Without a doubt, everyone in this vicinity had pickpocketed someone at least once.

I pulled out my own phone, aimlessly searching for something to occupy myself with. Until I did, and it wasn't on my phone.

Someone else walked into the bar. He clearly wasn't supposed to be here. Wearing a lavish, white suit jacket with gold etchings in the shape of branches, anyone could tell he was a magnate. He was quite young, though – around twenty years old, almost the same age as me. That wasn't common among the magnates. Youthful success wasn't frequent.

He looked around, seemingly taking in his surroundings, then sat at the counter a few stools away from me. Many in the room had noticed him and were staring at him threateningly. As he ordered a drink from a reluctant and sceptical Elias, I put my phone away. I was curious. He gazed at the rows of bottles behind Elias then looked at his drink, giving it a funny look. I continued examining him until I finally asked, "what are you doing here?"

"Huh?"

His blue eyes were fixated on me. I absent-mindedly pulled at my hood again and spaced out my words saying, "What are you doing here?" I choked on the last words, thick with drink as I caught a whiff of expensive cologne.

"I'm here for the same reason you are," he replied in a strangely friendly voice.

"And that is?" Magnates never come to this bar, let alone this part of the sector.

"A drink," he said as he took a swig.

I frowned. He was definitely a magnate. His hair was neatly tied back in a small ponytail with occasional strands hanging out - not to mention his suit jacket which screamed such a defined status.

Then why had he stooped so low and joined us in our small area of the city? He seemed too oblivious. There could only be one reason: "Are you new here?"

He met his gaze with mine for a fleeting moment before nodding. That explained it. "You know, magnates don't come here," I said.

"They don't?"

I nodded. "You have your own bars. There shouldn't be a need to," I continued. He looked behind him, finally noticing the menacing stares from the others. He uncomfortably shifted in his seat. "What's your name?" I questioned.

"It's... Jonathan."

"Ok Jon, the first thing you have to know about this place is that you can't trust anyone. That woman right there just stole your watch." A young woman, probably a hacker, was on her way out. I watched as she reached into her pocket and found nothing, obviously confused. I leaned on the bench with my head rested on my hand. Dangling from my other hand was a shiny, gold watch. I flaunted it before tossing it in his hands.

Jonathon looked at it in explicit disbelief until he fastened it back on. Why did I give it back to him? I wracked my brain until I realised the answer was the empty glass in front of me. Getting up, I left four metal coins on the counter. Elias snatched them, and I strolled away. "See you around, Jon."

He looked my way and smiled, mouthing 'thank you.' I responded with a look of slight pity. He reminded me of a puppy dog; he was too soft-hearted for this place. Something bad was going to happen to him.