Originally Fake

Chapter One: Pilot.

2040.

     "No, no, no, no, no!" Shouted Alfonso, a tall man with a thick, French accent. As he slapped his own face with his hands, his straggly brown hair jumped about. "C'est des conneries!" He cursed with his eyes closed. "Katrina, what has gotten into you today?" He said and stared desperately at me.

     "Probably Dask." Joked the photographer at the side, the crew members around him bursting into laugher. Alone, Dask the model stared bewilderedly at them by my side, unable to understand as he spoke limited English.

     Not in the mood, I gave the photographer a glare and the crew stopped laughing, he glared back at me silently.

     "Can we take five?" I asked Alfonso, the producer, and he reluctantly nodded. He had been slapping himself and pinching his cheeks so much that his tan face was already showing red marks. I felt a tinge of guilt for wanting a break and doing this to him but I just couldn't concentrate. Hermez could wait another day for their photographs.

     I walked away from the set and gave the handbag to a random wardrobe stylist then strode off to my room. A brown-skinned girl followed me but allowed me some space.

     For just an assistant, Mia was smart and intuitive enough to read the mood. Unlike all my other previous assistants, she lasted longer than a month. Victoria was too sassy, Alice was too clumsy, Hanna was too forgetful, and the long list went on.

     "Mia, I really want to be alone right now." I turned and said to her, "If anyone asks, I've gone back to the hotel."

     "Wait, but what about the photoshoot? Alfonso would go crazy if you left right now, what if he takes us off the project?" She asked, her brown eyes filled with fear.

     "They'll get over it. Besides, I'd like to watch them try getting a new model this close to the deadline." I said, already slipping into my brown coat and passing one foot out the door of the studio.

     The autumn breeze brushed my face and threw my hair into a frenzy. I thanked any and all gods for the lack of paparazzi around to give me hell. As I looked up, I could just make out the tip of the renewed Eiffel Tower.

     Modelling for Hermez in Paris is almost every model's dream and goal. It was mine as well, but once I actually got there, all I wanted to do was get back home to New York and drown in ice cream. After all, if we want something enough, we'll get it.

     But what we often overlook is the fact that we don't just get one thing, we get the whole package of what we want which includes the good and the bad.

     We just choose not to acknowledge that bit because we want the world to be perfect, but it isn't and it never will be. The bad outweighs the good because we let it. How unfortunate that when we're given a choice to choose, we always choose wrongly.

     I passed by a weird-looking building on my way and my attention was caught by a heated argument between a doctor and a customer. They were brawling with rapid French phrases and superfluous hand gestures. Although I couldn't understand a word they said, I instinctively knew what they were fighting over after catching sight of those walking out of the joint- Reconstructeds.

     The Reconstructions started in the year of 2022 when the third world war finally ended. I was three at the time. But we all learn about this.

     In the following years, mankind wanted peace more than ever. They'd lost their families, homes, friends, acquaintances, everything that they'd held a sense of familiarity with. So, the then newly instated Republic of Humanity came up with an initiative, The Reconstructions.

     It was hoped to be able to eradicate racism, sexism, and all the other things that humans hated each other and themselves over. A similar method of reconstruction was already present, albeit scarce, before the third world war. But, it was forever then made into a wide-stream norm.

     The idea was to reform humans. To change the colour of their skin, alter their physical features, twitch personalities using hormones, anything and everything to make sure that colour and organ would no longer pose tension between humans.

     Resources were focused towards the rebuilding of mankind, everything was working for a short amount of time. But there were those who underwent the Reconstructions to gain access to restrooms and spas of opposing genders, they were starting to abuse the system for their own carnal pleasures, threatening our newly found peace.

     Not only that, but after the war, people had started to look for their gods again, frantically. Religious leaders teamed up and tried stopping the Reconstructions as they believed that humans didn't have the right to change themselves, to alter what god had made.

     Protests and crimes were in abundant, extremists ran rampant, everything was swirling back into chaos and a fourth world war seemed on the brink.

     Then, on the 7th of May in the year 2025, the representatives of The Republic of Humanity and global leaders called for a worldwide summit. After long meetings at headquarters and several votes, the RH had no choice but to cease support of all Reconstructions.

     Hundreds of thousands of unsuspecting people then flew out to Ghana, the designated middle-point of Earth's surface where history was about to be made. World leaders, those in the RH, reporters, rich people who had nothing better to do, religious leaders, local citizens of Ghana, and more gathered together in the newly built stadium at the center of the Earth.

     Those of us at home could watch the broadcast on our port-viewers. The representatives introduced themselves and called for silence from the crowd.

     Those of us on our couches obeyed as well, gripping at the edge of our seats.

     The President of The RH walked onto the stage. The lights and cameras were on him. And then screaming ensued. Every moment of his death was captured live, his and approximately 263 other people who were there.

     A blue light flowed out of their bodies and were brought up into the sky, then their bodies dropped to the ground. People speculated that it was the cause of a biological weapon but no cause of death could be identified.

     The Republic of Humanity then seized this opportunity, saying that this was a sign that god wanted the Reconstructions to be carried out after all. Everyone feared for their lives and accepted this spoon-fed belief.

     All the problems were solved, religious leaders had either died that day or were trying to recruit followers to little avail. People rarely took the Reconstructions for granted again, and life went on.

     But as time passed, people have forgotten about that loss, or they believe that it was a conspiracy organised by The RH. So, perverts and extremists started crawling out of the woodworks again.

     Because of them, all Reconstructeds are given a poor image. If you are a Reconstructed, you don't get far in life, no one looks twice at you no matter how great you look. No one trusts you, no one believes in you, no one wants you.

     But despite it all, a lot of people still go through the process. I never understood why. If they knew how they were going to be treated, why go through with it? Why spend all that money to be treated like nothing by others, surely their previous selves, no matter how ugly other people or themselves thought it to be, would be better.

     I was pretty sure that that was why the doctor and customer were fighting, the doctor probably didn't trust the customer. So, I put on my sunglasses and walked away. There was no way that I was going to be seen anywhere near a Reconstruction Clinic, it would ruin everything that I ever worked for.