John P.O.V
I pushed the stroller through the doors, a bit grateful that Nicki, my 1-year-old daughter, was sleeping. You see, I work with this bad-ass woman called Reyna at Techno. And if she's disturbed by the littlest thing, she will rant for half an hour. It's scary. She also always wears combat boots, black jeans, and oversized Green day shirts. So I wasn't surprised to see her in her office when I got in. I was surprised, however by the fact that she wasn't working. Sitting next to her were 2 kids playing on her computer. One of them, a girl, had blonde hair done in a braid much like Reyna's. Her electric-blue eyes were focused intently on the screen. The boy on the other side had an easy-going vibe to him. His blonde hair was ruffled and messy, and his gold-coloured glasses clashed a bit with his sky blue eyes. And for the first (and probably last) time in my life, I saw that Reyna's slightly curly hair was down and that, ever so subtly, the ends were dyed black and grey. "Jason, move a bit to the left" she said, moving hand and mouse slightly to the left. I heard a burst of gunfire which woke up Nicki, who started fussing. Reyna glanced in my direction as I gave Nicki her bottle. She shaped her mouth into an O and lowered down the volume. She stood up. "Hey John! Who's this?" she asked, crouching in front of Nicki. "Hey Reyna. This is Nicki. Who are they?" she sighed and glanced at them. "Zoe and Jason. They've gone into a killing streak and they're determined not to lose it"
