Chapter Thirty - A Small Trap

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The inner sector monorail station was bustling with youths wearing varying uniforms as the students from two local high schools and the nearby middle school stood waiting for their trains to arrive. Most were gathered in small cliques and there was banter between groups of the rival high schools. Nothing serious of course. As hot headed as most youths were, no one wished to jeopardise their future career paths or marriage prospects over something as idiotic as a fight. All eyes sought higher levels of status and quality of living, it was the aspiration drummed into them by their parents since birth.

One train arrived, heading east upon the circuit and a number of youths split from their friends to get on the transport, which would take them from the middle floors of this building, to the middle floors of others and closer to their homes. One of the youths stood apart, as he had upon the platform. The boy was small and would have been mistaken for a middle schooler had his uniform not been of one of the two prestigious high schools. His longish brown hair fell limp over his left eye, the rest drawn back over his right ear, in which was a music pod, quietly pouring its contents into the cavity. His aura was a little gloomy and removed, indicating that he wanted this solitude and the other students seemed content to oblige.

After several stops, the lone youth stepped off of the train onto a platform in the southern district. He walked into the station and boarded an elevator and descended several floors. He then walked passed the convenience store located on this floor and out of the building onto a connective bridge. Gazing out onto a landscape of towers reaching for the heavens, he watched as the moody sky cast colours of peach, lilac and yellow upon the panels of glass lined by silvery alloys, but it didn't seem that he was moved by this sight. Finally, he moved on, side stepping to the maintenance robot, which trimmed the ornamental trees lining the bridge, each perfectly spaced and shaped to be aesthetically pleasing.

The tall building he next entered was residential, but it was not where he lived. He had to traverse another bridge, located two floors up, before descending six further floors to the level on which his parents apartment was located. This floor's standard could be considered decent, but it was definitely a level that was occupied mainly by hard-working, unachieving commoners.

He paused before the door of his home and removed his music pod from his ear. The boy's mother did not like him wearing it within the apartment, she considered it an unnecessary distraction. Likewise, he was unable to watch television or use the internet, unless she was 100% satisfied with his schoolwork and grades. Unfortunately, having switched off the pod, his ears were filled with other noises; his parents were arguing again. He sighed. Why could they not get it over with and divorce? Sure they would likely have to descend a few floors as living arrangements were not cheap, but wouldn't everyone be happier? Stupid question. To the adults in this world, living on lower floors did not equate to happiness.

When there was a pause in their feud, the boy finally pressed his thumb against the doorplate, which read his print and unlocked with a digitised; "Welcome home, Kez Manning."

His mother tapped the strap upon her wrist, which glowed with a digital measurement of the time. "You are late," she declared. The boy said nothing, simply removing his shoes and jacket and carefully storing them in the closet. She reached out her hand, beckoning with her fingers. As his father removed himself from the room with a childish huff, now his wife's attention was elsewhere, the boy unzipped his bag and handed her his school tablet. She glanced through his homework tasks and tutor comments, before handing it back. "Go to your room and finish your work."

He nodded and followed her instructions. It took him no more than half an hour to complete the assignment; it was maths and he happened to be a genius with numbers and algebraic equations. He found the sciences fairly simple as well. He was mostly struggling in art as he couldn't produce an aesthetically pleasing piece, it seemed. His work was considered too abstract or too realistic. He simply couldn't get a feel for what was considered acceptable.

After his mother had glanced over the work, which she decided was acceptable, even though she actually had no clue to whether the answers were correct or not, the woman allowed him some social time. He was allowed to visit nearby peers and students deemed potential connections for the future. As most of the students that attended his school lived on floors that ranged in the upper middle and lower high ranks, she never actually delved to deeply into his social life. It was enough that she believed the boy would not disobey her. If she knew that once he entered the skyscraper adjoining theirs that he actually took the elevator down, she would have been horrified.

Kez took the elevator to the tenth floor, then walked down four flights of stairs as the elevator for the lowest floor seldom worked. Maintenance on these levels was not a priority. There, he took a bridge that unlike those of the upper floors, was not protected by reinforced glass and was actually very open to the elements. Still the air was clean enough as there were still functioning air filters upon the ground. The bridge led to the rooftop of an old block of flats, it's doorway access still had the old key lock it had been fitted with, but was broken as this buildings maintenance had lost the key some centuries ago. Upon this rooftop was built a lone apartment. As it was once considered a 'penthouse' it was fairly large for this level's typical accommodation. In it resided a single man, who worked part time jobs and a girl with a serious attitude problem. It was the girl, who he had descended to see.

"Yo," the girl greeted as he let himself in to the property and into her bedroom. The girl had long, wavy dark blond hair, highlighted with streaks of purple and wore a cap over it. She wore loose jeans, a tank top and over that, a large old colourful jumper that was more than a little threadbare. She was sitting on her bed with music blasting from retro speakers as she flicked through the webpages of an official magazine. "Your man is headlining again!" She teased.

"He's not my man!" The boy retorted, but snatched up the heavy tablet to absorb the article anyway. He subconsciously stroked a finger over the idol's chiselled jaw and sighed. The girl giggled.

"Oh please, if by some miracle you bumped into him on a bridge or something, you would totally throw yourself at him and beg him to take your 'v'."

"He was voted to be the fourth most wanted man in the world and at least one tenth of those who voted were declared as being straight males," he murmured in an explanatory manner. "And what about you, don't tell me you wouldn't go for his fiancée."

"Not really, that girl is way too high maintenance," she stated with a shrug. "I want a gentle princess."

Kez personally thought that the girl, Leilei, needed a woman who could temper her wild manner. He sighed, not that they would have much choice in their spouses. The matchmaker would come up with a list of genetically and socially compatible matches. If they were lucky, one of these people would not only match their sexual preference, but also agree to an engagement with them. If I can wed a man that has even ten percent of Rush Haven's hotness and greatness, I think I can be satisfied, Kez thought. Fortunately, he still could delay matchmaking until graduating college, so there was still time he could indulge in his freedoms.

"So are we doing it?" the girl asked. The boy nodded and handed her back the device he'd almost drooled on. "Good, 'cos I spun some hot new tracks and can't wait to share! Go get ready, your stuff is in the second closet."

The boy wandered over to the mirror and pinned back his tresses back revealing his two toned pale eyes, before heading to the closet. The girl was not interested in his naked body, but neither was he interested in sharing it, so he changed his clothes within the confining space. When he left the closet, the girl was waiting for him with a brightly coloured wig and a pair of shades.

"Denim dungaree dress and striped stocking socks, nice choice," she approved as she helped him don the wig. "Come on Wish, let's play in my studio."

"Sure DJ Shang!" He teased and laughed as they skipped arm in arm towards the secret back room.

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