Chapter 3

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Your POV

Everything seems to be lining up with my story. . .

"Alright." I clap my hand together, staring at the made-up crime scene in the room. I even got a few forensic majors and a professor to help me set the scene for my testing. "Trial 132. Okay RK --"

It feels very unnatural to be calling him by a model number. You don't call humans by a number. 

"Is something the matter?" The Android questions me.

"I'm just wondering if I should give you a name or not," I reply, fiddling with my pen. "It's not normal but I guess if you are going to be working with humans, you should have a name so they are comfortable."

He nods, giving a cute little smile.

Evan, Ethan, Dean, Shaw? Nope. . . Cole-- no. That is too. . . Devastating. Alexander? Michael, Mitchel, Dylan?

"Connor." I like the name. "How about that?"

"Yes, I like it," he answers.

And shows desire-- a human trait. Good-- maybe this can prove my point.

"Then Connor it is. Nice to meet you."

-----

I get out of the car first, seeing the familiar food truck sitting in a fairly empty area of the city.

Shutting the door, I check the traffic before crossing.

"Hank will take his usual. I'll take a water," I order, leaning against the metal counter.

There is a tire squeal as I see the vehicle stop just before hitting Hank. Then he walks over like he didn't almost get ran over by a car. . . That man. . . he looks to get himself killed. 

It's rather concerning. 

"You're going to leave him in the car?" I question, making him roll his eyes. I can take a hint. "Well, it's not like he's going to listen." I hope and know he won't listen.

Soon after, Pedro comes, looking excited. "Hey listen, I got this shit- hot tip for you." Pinch the bridge of my nose knowing what is about to go down.

Last time Hank bet, he was set back a week's pay. Sometimes, I question his philosophy on life. 

I let him do this and he has to let me work with the Androids. It's not like I'm really taking orders from him either. . . I have a degree so he can't stop me. I'm not too sure what is great about gambling. . . other than once in a while, you might win. That barely balances out the several other bets that were lost. 

"How about you (y/n)? Maybe you should give it a try," the stranger speaks.

"No thanks," I politely decline. "I'm still trying to pay my student loans." I did get a full scholar though. . . So did I lie? Yes. 

Seeing Connor walking up, he stands beside us, hands behind his back. It makes his other partner sigh, looking away.

"Hey Connor," I greet him.

"Hi (y/n)." He returns the smile before looking up to Hank for a greeting only to get

"What's your problem? Don't you ever do what you're told?" Wow, it's not like a teenager helped program this android or something. Crazy, right? Or maybe it's because human's voice commands can't override written commands. "Look, you don't have to follow us around like a poodle!"

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