Mind Over Matter

6 - "Who Are You?"

Las Vegas, Nevada
March 27, 2034
11:45 p.m.

*JASON*

"Justin, maybe you should slow down on those. I hope you realize that I'm not made of money."

It had been two days since we got here. We walked through the doors of the MGM Grand Hotel, rented out rooms and then a day later, Troy and Justin had gotten sucked in to the blinking lights and the busling sounds of the casino next door. Now, before any of you even say a damn word, I know Justin is underaged. But you should've seen the puppy face he gave me when I had told him no on playing the slot machines. It was one of the cutest faces I have ever seen, and don't pretend like you wouldn't have melted on the spot too.

So, of course, I had said yes. And money talks as well, because just a few short minutes and three hundred dollars payed to a casino employee later, this beauty was laughing and having way too much fun at the machines. Apparently, it was money well spent. The boy was a beast at it, despite this being his first time playing. He's already racked up an impressive two-hundred thousand dollars.

Let me rant here and lay a little knowledge on you. Slot machines, as with all gambling is all boiled down to probability and unpredictability. Each game has a statistical probability of you winning. It doesn't start off high, they don't want you to win, but the going ratio is between seventy-five to eighty percent. But slot machines in particular have some of the worst odds, ranging from one in five thousand to one in thirty-four million. They are designed to fail so you stay rooted in that seat, gambling your life away.

But it was something strange watching Justin play. There was no hesitation in his face, no thinking, no time wasted. It was almost as if he could read the machines, almost as if he could anticipate and know exactly what the spin bar would produce. But I was just being paranoid, right? I must've somehow smoked something or drank some god awful champagne that the casino employees kept walking around passing out.

When Justin had hit yet another jackpot, bringing his current winnings to around three hundred and twenty-five thousand, I decided it was time to stop him. He was drawing a rather large crowd as it was. I gulped down the rest of my champagne and walked over to him.

I leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Justin, I think it's time to stop playing now." He looked up at me, his face riddled in confusion.

"Why?"

I looked up and around the casino floor, noticing the different people that worked there looking at us with narrowing eyes. A few men about twenty feet off to are right grabbed a radio out of their suit jacket pocket and started talking fast into it.

I leaned down towards the boy's ear again. "Because," I whispered softly into it, "You're winning too much money too fast. Now they are getting suspicious. We have to shut this down before we get in trouble."

"But, I'm winning so much money," Justin whined, staring at the flashing lights on the machine. I nodded my head.

"And that's exactly why we have to leave. They'll think we're cheating." Well, I guess in a sense, we were, but Justin didn't need to know that. He grudgingly looked at the screen and then back at me. He nodded his head. He slipped out of the seat and took my offered hand as I made my way swiftly through the tight crowd. There was so many people here that it was extremely hard to navigate.

Now, I'm a patient person(somewhat), but this was absolutely ridiculous. It was as if everyone was seeing us and making it a point to step closer to us to block us. It was really weird. And I was getting more pissed by the minute.

"Will everyone kindly move the fuck out of the way!" I exploded. "Holy shit, this isn't a concert! Move!" I know I shouldn't have just yelled out like that but I was pissed and ready to leave this place. The people in it were giving me the creeps. Everything just felt wrong.