isolation [On Hold]

3. Same time Toronto, Canada 2054

-per molecule. The approximate time it takes to complete a full cycle of nuclear fission with the aid of a reaction core is--

            She put the book down. The clock on her bedside table read 3:56am. Oh damn, Tyler thought, massaging her temples, it's way too late--or early, however you put it. She rubbed her eyes and looked over at her phone. The flashing reminder for an event that day popped up on the screen. Oh shit, she grabbed the phone and read over the notification. She groaned internally, she had forgotten that the interview was tomorrow, or more like today, like in a couple of hours. Running her hand through her hair, she tapped the heat sensor on her table lamp and turned the light off. Pulling the covers over her body, she yawned, and hoped that with some luck, she just might be able to get an hour or two of sleep.

~~~

            The loud repetitive beeping of her alarm woke Tyler up from her so called nap. Still half asleep, she looked blearily down at her phone. It took her a few seconds, but when she finally adjusted and woke up a bit more, if she wasn't as tired as she was right now, she would've given herself a good beating. Fuck, she was running late. She threw the heated blanket off of herself and sprinted to the bathroom, shucking her shorts and tank top onto the floor along the way. The water in her shower was pleasantly hot. She sighed, scrubbing her scalp with her customized detoxifying natural shampoo. It felt wonderful, and she could've stayed in there for hours, but unfortunately today she couldn't.

            Today was the day of her interview with Josy Parler, the internationally acclaimed idol, and best selling author of The Isolated System, with over 75 million copies downloaded worldwide. Her novel had gained a following of over twenty two million, each one of them were people who believed that every word, every idea, every hidden message in her book, was the complete and utter truth. Which was in fact, complete and utter bullshit. Josy Parler was just another extreme environmental activist, so much to the extreme that she had gone through the greater majority of her life jumping around from country to country, living off of the land's natural resources, whether it be in a forest, jungle--those were fairly rare to come across nowadays--, or desert, and collecting specimens and samples for her research. Throughout the years, Josy had amassed a great deal of other fellow ecofreak followers, people who rejected the idea of a civilized, modern society, ones who lived on the outskirts of cities and urban metropolitan areas. Her campaign Isolated Lives, a campaign with the goal of getting the world to live off of renewable, eco-friendly energy, had asked for a public interview with Tyler. Ever since the announcement of her contribution in the nuclear energy industry, she'd gotten hundreds of calls and messages, even flooding her home line from the flux, about interviews, special guests, featuring articles and worst of all, all of the useless junk saying, "hey Tyler, I just read that you had perfected the way of nuclear fission, can you tell tell us how?". It was exhausting. The only reason she had agreed to this interview, was the fact that every hour of the day, she would get a popup requesting a one on one meeting with the reclusive-but-not-really author, Josy Parler. It had annoyed her to the point of her throwing her phone at the wall of her room. If she had known she would get the attention of so many people, she would've never sent in her machine to the UEA. But what's done, was done, she couldn't change anything.

            She turned off the flow of the water, and stepped out, drying herself as she looked into the full length mirror. She had always been more on the thin side, but these days her ribs were stark and protruding against her skin. Dark circles ringed her eyes, a result of the four to three hour naps she got each day for the past month. They matched her dark hair, which was almost pure black and went straight down to her shoulders. Pale almost sickly looking grey eyes stared back at her. Thank god for coloured contacts, she thought as she placed dark blue ones into each eye. Picking up her heavy concealer, she covered all of her dark spots with it. Then, taking her liner, she framed her eyes with a silvery cat's eye, going down a couple times under her eye, mimicking her lower lashes. Applying some of CARA's mascara and lip tint, and running her straightening brush through her hair a couple of times, she was ready. Leaving the bathroom and picking up a shirt, jeans and a winter coat she got dressed and left the house.