There's a faint hum of electricity bouncing through your skull. Your limbs feel heavy, you recognise this experience to be similar to that one time you did ketamine with your friends in college. However, it does not take you long to come to the conclusion that this is in fact not your bed, you struggle your eyes open to see a large beam of light, not yet focused. The floor you assume is linoleum is cold against your skin, a bolt of fear strikes through you, the unfamiliarity!
It's now that you break into a sweat, anxiety fills up your chest, you then recognise the smell. It's that of a particularly expensive cologne a man you once had a one night stand with wore. You shudder at the brief memory, almost savouring the distraction from your current situation.
Your vision comes into focus and you prop yourself up on one arm, your head spinning as you do so but through determination and fear you continue. As you turn your head around you see a figure of a man, small stature, you assume around 5"7. He's standing in an odd, unnatural position. Particularly uniform and composed.
Before the small man has a chance to notice that you are awake, you swing your head around, taking note of he small door just past the man, you also take note of the large potted plants in the far left corner, almost enough to act as an obvious but effective shield. You let your gaze linger on the man for another few seconds, reassuring yourself of his distracted state before raising to your feet. However, you underestimate the level of your drug induced state and trip slightly before standing upright.
You assume that the noise was so quiet no one could hear. But as soon as you regained your posture, thee man spins around, perfectly pirouetting on his foot to face you, you choke down your breath. stifling any possibility of noise that would alert the strange man. you begin to study his features. you have easily a few inches on him. his head is leaning to one side, looking at you quizzically, almost studying you back. but in a different way, the confusion is almost as if he struggles to understand your fear.
you edge backwards out of instinct, at this there is a flash of fury on the man's face. he walks quickly towards you and you stop dead, somehow this small man strikes a fear into you, despite your clear advantage in height, and the ease at which you could apprehend him. he stands in front of you, head tilted up with a furrowed brow.
"hello, do you recognise me?" he says, his voice high pitched, in every way he shouldn't be threatning but you feel compelled to answer his question before asking one of the many you have waiting in your mind.
"n-" you realise your mouth is awful dry, obviously the man noticed this, and pulls a full glass of water, you reluctantly take it and have a drink, "no sir, I don't think I recognize you,"
at this, a different expression appears. one of frustration but with a different undertone... offence? he quickly lifts the glass from your hands, you don't attempt to hold it or fight him. you have already learned that resistance is futile. he suddenly throws the full glass on the ground in fury, the sound of the shattering glass pierces your ears as thousands of tiny shards decorate the floor. the water splashing and coating them, causing them to glisten idly in the clinical lighting.
"my face, my face is not familiar, in any way??" the man says, raising his voice slightly, but the urgency is conveyed mostly in the disjointed pacing of the words, everything seems oddly timed, "you look at me and see what, a regular guy?! an average Joe?"
you have no reply, struggling for words or an answer, you are intimidated by the strange man's sudden frantic rambling to what you assumed to be a fair reply to his question. you stand in the middle of the strange room, you feel stupid. why aren't you attacking him? you could easily win a fight against him?
before you can make any rash decisions, the man finishes his pacing and comes to stand Infront of you again, "why don't you know me? am I not a household face??"
you look at him quizzically, you can't deny there is some familiarity about him, but not to the extent you could name him. while the situation you are in is strange, and potentially life threatning, you cannot deny your mild attraction to him. no sensible reason seems to come to mind, but you know it's true. you find the way he dominates the conversation... endearing.
the small man paces to the back of the room once again, this time retrieving a chair. he sits on it perfectly, posture and all. you study his current outfit, a t-shirt and cords. nothing adventurous but he certainly makes it work, his painfully average figure is complimented by the blandness of the clothing, making it almost comical. his hair is simple, cut to the head with no movement. you seriously cannot place what attracts you to this small strange man.
"you may be wondering why im so distressed, well you must understand that I am no normal man. yes, human. but not normal-man,"
you assume this is an attempt at humour, you appreciate it, however it continues to fill you with more fear. you begin to realise how out of touch this small man seems. is he crazy?
"I created something beautiful! despite being constantly beaten down, I succeed!" his eyes grow wide, too wide. it is now you notice that he has barely blinked throughout this whole ideal, kind of hot...
"I know you know my name, my beautiful, famous, graceful name," he pauses,
"what's your name?"
"my name, sir..... my name is Zuckerberg."
