Enter the Fray - Battle for Reality [Coming April 2024]
In a world teetering on the brink of chaos, three hearts intertwine in a daring quest to save humanity from a technology that threatens to unravel the fabric of existence. Wren Kennaway, a bril...
21 DAYS UNTIL EIDOLA MATER: MOTHER OF IDOLS DROPS!
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On the screen, a man leaned forward and interlaced his fingers. His calloused hands looked formidable. A hint of body hair airbrushed his chest and torso, and veins traced his muscular brown forearms. He squinted at me from the video, the brilliant white of his teeth cracking through in a contemplative smile.
"...This our fifth, sixth time hanging out together?" he asked.
"Hm? If it is, that's a record for me." The ice queen in bed with him smiled.
I cringed at the sound of my own voice [it was me on screen with him], at the tawdry, forgettable hotel room in the background, and the handsome stranger trying to be earnest.
He blinked in surprise. "Should I be flattered or concerned?" he chuckled.
"You tell me. I'm not responsible for deciding how you should feel," I said with a laugh.
"I like you, B1rds_Eye."
"Why?" I looked at him in all seriousness.
He shrugged. "You're uncomplicated. It's sex."
"So, why do you like me?"
"You're not looking for a relationship." He sat back and studied me.
"So, why do you—?"
"No, I get it." He cut a hand through the air as he grinned and glanced away. "I thought you were doing that thing feminines do. You know, coming on strong with the detachment and the cold shoulder shit until you stumble on the right person."
"Out of curiosity..." I bit my lip, intrigued. "What makes you think you're the right person for me?"
"The fact that you keep coming back." His eyes l wouldn't let mine go, and a smirk played on his lips.
I frowned. I had a hunch that Blu3Herring31 was a criminal. He had a CyberneticID tag. (Most outlaws didn't.) It was required even to access ColonyASR. But there were ways of getting around the constant surveillance of the implant. With his physique, it wasn't a stretch to imagine him a member of the underworld.
This guy didn't fit into high society, where raw physicality had lost its luster. He stood out—tall, broad-shouldered, and hulking. He had to know that I and my contemporaries prized masculines who appeared cooperative and intelligent, traits that smoothed the rough edges, qualities that signaled a person's ability to support their family and stay loyal to their mate.
According to the trendsetters of modern culture, men who had these attributes were the most attractive, successful, and desirable. But this guy was a throwback to the era when testosterone was prized. Too bad he wasn't my type.
"What's your name?" I asked.
He lifted an eyebrow and inclined his head. "Merrick," he allowed.
"I'm Wren. Doctor," I emphasized as I started getting dressed, "Wren Kennaway."
"Okay," he said slowly, processing, I presumed, our different walks of life.
"There's no chance of a relationship between us, virtual or otherwise," I assured him. "Could you imagine us meeting in real life?" We laughed. We both laughed. I stood up, fully clothed. "I kept coming back because I thought you were... uncomplicated."
"Stop video." I raised a hand. Miele complied. The image froze on my jaded expression and Merrick's wry acceptance of my response.
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