ROGER (Read Until 7/31)

F I V E

Growing up, my mother held on to a lot of old traditions, many of which the rest of the Province didn't care for. Holidays? No one celebrated them anymore. We were taught they separated people, classifying groups by religion and belief, rather than unifying our nation as a whole.

So, Christmas? Easter? They were gone. Birthdays were still celebrated, but almost like they'd defaulted into society. From what I knew, less than five percent of the world's population celebrated. We lived in an age when computers gave us everything we needed and wanted, and yet, there was still a small group that clung to 'false' happiness—that's what the latest internet polls said. When my mom was alive, we were a part of that group, too.

My mother loved holidays and she celebrated every single one. We'd always have a Christmas tree, and an Easter basket. We'd go to church on Sundays and practiced lent. When she died, I'd stopped all of her traditions. I couldn't do it without her; her smile kept me in good spirits.

This time, this year, I told myself it'd be different. There was a new reason to smile, a new spirit in my life. With 'New Year's Eve' flashing on the digital calendar that hung on my kitchen wall, and Roger playing classic Christmas songs on my radio, it was easy to forget.

Forget the world, forget the memories, and just think of the now.

Sitting on my windowsill, I stared down at the city streets as light snow flurries fell, lightly blanketing the ground below. One or two people walked by, but the rest stayed home. Without parties, there was no reason to be awake. At least, not the normal reason. New Year's Eve meant the upgrade of every VF within the Province. That only meant people would rather stay home.

"Clara," Roger's voice pulled me away from the window, "I've made hot chocolate, and don't ask how I know you'd like a cup; I just do. Since midnight's almost here, I could switch the music selection. Something more upbeat? Happy?"

I looked over at him as his image stood in the center of my TV. He flipped through a book, turning the dark pages with one hand. It wasn't until I got closer, passed him, and grabbed my mug that I realized it wasn't a book at all. Pointing the hot chocolate at him, I asked, "What is that?"

"A CD binder," he said without looking up.

"A CD binder?" I repeated slowly. "What's that?"

He smirked as he looked down at the pages and held the corner of one between his fingers. "It holds music discs, usually two or three per page. There used to be—" His imaged changed, fuzzy and distorted, and his voice went with it. I couldn't help but stand straight and watch him, waiting for him to buffer back into clarity.

"Roger?" I whispered his name, the mug too close to my chin.

"Hm?" He looked up, image clear and his eyes the brightest blue. "Where's Xerses tonight? Will he be coming?"

Maybe it's a hiccup, I told myself, dropping down onto my couch, right beside my computer. He is getting a big update tonight.

"I could give him a call." He waved his hands in front of him and dropped the binder, but it never hit the ground. It pixelized in the air, before disappearing like fragmented data. In its place was the tablet I'd normally see him with. He slid his finger along the screen as he held it close. "There's still time for him to make it—"

"No, no, stop," I laughed and placed my mug on my coffee table. "There's only like ten minutes. No way he'd make it."

I'd already made plans to call Xerses after the upgrade was complete. I wanted to know how Verba held up, how much she'd changed by then. I also thought I'd be a little extra, too, and tell Xerses a long list of resolutions I'd never keep. Wasn't that how it was done in the old days?