Wild World Comms

Chapter 1: Running Late in The Wild World

Looking out of your window onto the puddle filled street, you knew that it was going to be a duvet and Netflix kinda day. Grabbing another coffee and throwing yourself down onto the couch, you pressed play on what may well have been a Fargo marathon.

Even though you had seen this all before, re-watching the re-imagined Coen Brother thriller-come-comedy-come-drama seemed the best way to spend your time, especially after a long week at work. And it only took ten minutes for you to drift off into the weird little Minnesota bubble far from your London home.

You were five episodes down when that bubble popped, as you noticed your phone buzzing on the coffee table. Annoyed, you lounged over trying to protect the comfy position you had cultivated over the past five hours to grab the device. The notification light was flashing like a madman, and as you swiped to take the call you noticed the other nine missed calls from the same number...

"Hey Will, sorry I missed your-"

His voice was not as cheerful as it normally was, "Hey yeah... where are you?"

"I'm at home." You replyed, confused.

"Did you forget about the preview tonight?"

Shit, you totally did, but - "No, no, not at all. I just, um, was going to get there a little bit later because you know I don't like the flashy entrances at those sort of things."

Thankfully a forgiving chuckle came through the phone, "Get here as soon as you can."

"Sure. I'll see you there!" After hanging up the phone you unwillingly dragged yourself off the couch and toward your bedroom. You hadn't completely forgotten about the new exhibition opening at the Natural History Museum, to be honest it was one of the only social events that you didn't mind attending- with the free wine and culture, you could even possibly get by without talking to anyone. But the joy of a whole day of Netflix had pushed all thoughts of the event to the side.

Rummaging through your wardrobe you found a suitable dress that was both classy and most importantly comfy. Throwing it over yourself and zipping up the back, you then grabbed the closest pair of black tights and rolled them over your stubbly legs. Sliding into the bathroom you began the short but important process of making your face look presentable, thankfully that only took a dab of concealer and a swipe of mascara.

Next you found yourself staring at the collection shoes strewn about the bedroom floor. Picking up your Converse, and lacing them together as though it were second nature, you grabbed your house keys and made a dash toward the front door, locking it behind you as you fell out onto the puddley street.

Luckily the tube station wasn't far from your home, and the next thing you knew you were heading towards Paddington Station. The carriage was empty as most people were leaving the city at that time of night, thankfully making it easy to find a seat.

Directly within your eye line was a huge advertisement for WWCOMMS, selling some bullshit 'we're here for you' message. Looking around, the rest of the carriage was also plastered with the same messages, apart from the few train safety messages, which upon closer inspection also carried the logo.

You, like most people, don't really understand what Wild World Communications do. They appeared seemingly out of the blue a couple of years ago as a new mobile phone network. But now they seem to have a share in most things. Last year saw the start of the Wild World Network a new social media 'experience'. Taking aspects of Facebook, Twitter, Netflix, Maps, Banking, News.... 'All the services you will ever need, in one app' - at least that's what it was sold as.

88% of the country uses the app. 88%. It's crazy. But unlike most people you hate WWCOMMS. Putting you in the 12% of the nation not subscribed to their conglomerate. This definitely comes with its challenges, as you persevere for your liberalistic values, though you're usually just fobbed off as an 'indie'.

Before you had any more time to mentally rant about Wild World the tube pulled into Paddington, you weaved through the underground tunnels to the District line which would take you to Kensington and the museum.

The second train was a bit busier, though you managed to slot between a tourist and a business man, who were both too engrossed with their smartphones to care about your presence. Following suite, you pulled yours out of your bag to check the time. It was 20:04, you're sure the thing started at 19:00. Will was supposed to meet you there at quarter past, maybe you would only end up being an hour late?