I walk out of the station and begin to descend on the dozens of marble steps that led to perfectly constructed sidewalks. My ragged clothes and mucky shoes were really standing out. The three of us drew the unwanted attention of all the passers-by. They murmured and took pictures, and some even went as far as to insult us. But, we did not mind. We would not stoop to their level.
We crossed the roads which were filled with a mix of expensive sports cars and newly introduced hover cars. Both took us by surprise. When we tried to cross the next road, we waited for the light to flash white for pedestrian crossings. Some of the cars tried to crash into us on purpose but ended up brushing really close instead. "This is what that operator wanted us to be careful about."
Bill seemed to understand what I said. "I never knew that the inner city was full of congenital discrimination."
I chuckled, "Where'd you learn that word?"
The twins seemed slightly offended, and George said, "I think we judged you too soon! Our parents own the only library in the outer sector. Of course, we'd know how to talk."
"Okay, okay. My deepest apologies from the bottom of my heart," I replied sarcastically.
Bill responded, "You asshole." Then, we all laughed.
***
After eluding ten other near-death encounters, we finally managed to tread our way to the registration office.
The office itself was huge. It looked like it was built with ancient Roman architecture. Or was it Greek? Anyway, the outside was pure white and had carvings of many famous scientists engraved onto the upper, triangular portion of the building. We walked up the steps with scrubbing robots on our heels because our dirty shoes kept leaving mud and other filth that marked the white steps. We reached the door and a guard stopped us. He asked with a pleasant voice, "Reason for entry?"
I replied, "Registration for the upcoming Evolution Games, sir." I added the 'sir' at the end just in case he thought that we were being disrespectful and kicked us down the stairs. He smiled and let us pass.
The inside was not at all proportional to the outside. It small and cramped as if the floor, walls, and ceiling were protruding another six feet from their original places. I walked over to the desk where a woman in a nice long-sleeved dress was sipping on her coffee. She saw us drawing near and brought out three papers. She asked us, "Evolution Games?" We all shook our heads. She beckoned us to come closer and said, "Write your names in print here," she pointed to a place on the paper, "and then your signature right above it." She gave us each a pen and gestured us to write before saying, "If you don't know how to wri-"
George interrupted her, "Don't worry Miss, we know." He gave a knowing smile that made the women blush. Damn, he's good.
Bill and George wrote their names and signed with great penmanship. I guess it comes with living in a library for half their lives. I signed my own signature but with much less luster. The lady at the counter collected the twin's papers and told them, "Okay, you guys have been registered. Make sure you meet back here at this building next week." She, then, handed them their twenty-thousand credit prepaid cards. Few in the middle sector and almost all of the people In the inner sector had a credit processor embedded in their hand so that they could swipe at any item and obtain it through a transaction. It was like what my grandfather did back then. I found my necklace in my pocket and clutched it tight. I wished he was here today. But, we all wish our loved ones were next to us.
The lady looked at my form and glanced back up at me. She said, "Do you have a last name?"
I raised my eyebrow and said, "Do I need one?"
She explained, "It doesn't have to be an official one, but we need it to differentiate between players. I mean, there are over twenty with the name Vincent, so..."
I stared into her bright aquamarine eyes with mine. She looked a little discomforted before she blushed. "Hernández."
"Huh?" she broke out of her trance.
"You wanted a last name right?" I asked. She looked into my eyes again and nodded. She wrote down the name on the sheet of paper.
"Okay, you're all set to go. Remember to co-"
"I know. I heard you explain it quite well to the twins." She blushed again. What was up with this lady? She slowly handed me the prepaid credits. I gently took it off of her and left her.
She called after me. "Wait! Umm... I just wanted to say...I'm going to root for you guys!"
What in the hell? I awkwardly smiled back at her and said, "Thank you."
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Micheal Grey POV:
That interview sucked. Not only did it not go the way that I wanted it to go, but the interviewer also fucked up my favorite suit when he purposely spilled his stupid coffee on it. I made Flin beat him up. But, that's beside the point.
I changed into some of the casual clothes that Angela brought along. She did a good job of guessing what would happen. I had now downgraded myself to wearing a simple collared and sleeved white shirt. I got into my sportscar and waited for Angela to join me. As I waited, I saw Flin get into his own. I honked at him and said, "Flin, what kind of hunk of junk is that?" His car looked old. Old as in it still had a gas engine, glass windows, and an exterior made of iron. It had a lot of rust on it; his car was the one that someone would find in the outer sector.
He held up a middle finger and said, "I respect the classics, unlike some people I know."
I stuck out my tongue and replied, "I'm the only other person you know. And just so you know, I do respect classic! Just not one that looks like it drove into a ditch." He shut the door. Hard. I started to laugh because the glass shattered in on itself. He held up the middle finger at me again as he slowly drove away from the parking lot.
Angela arrived just in time. She looked even more beautiful up close. What am I saying?...I think I may be in love. "Excuse me, Mr. Grey? You don't need to drive me; I've got my own ride." Angela pointed across the parking lot. I traced her finger to a...what the FUCK was that? Her car was a bunch of pieces of metal strapped together; it was even worse than Flin's. It honestly looked like a ticking-time-bomb.
I said, "Don't you make like forty-five million a year? Didn't I give you an advance too?"
She shyly said, "Well, yes! It was very kind of you to do so, Mr. Grey! But, I still am very satisfied with my current car!" She gave me an angelic smile. I looked at her smile and back at the suicide mission that she called a car. She can't be serious, right?
She waved her keys at me. I said, "Hey, Angela! You mind if I have a look at those keys?"
"Huh? No! Here, please," she handed me her keys. I stared at them for a good minute before I threw them under my car. I turned on my engine, shifted the gear into reverse, and ran over them. She stared at me wide-eyed; she almost let out a tear. As far as I could tell, she must have really worked for that car.
"You can have my car when we make it back to the building. No personal assistant of mine is going to be driving around in a piece of shit like that," I said and then pointed at her car. "I'll have it scraped later today."
She bit her lip and said, "Could you not?"
"Could I not what?"
"Not scrap it. That's the first and only car I've ever bought with my one money. I would like to keep it," she explained. Oh, so I've got myself a sentimental woman here, ah?
"Sure, I'll have the keys replaced tomorrow if you want them, but you've got to promise me to never drive in that car again for any work-related purposes. You can have your fun little joyrides and anything else you do in that car on your own time."
She nodded her head in agreement and got into my car. Well, her car technically. Then, we drove off into the sunset.
Actually, it was high noon. But, it sounds better that way.
*Inside the car*
"Also, I thought I told you to call me 'Micheal'?"
"So sorry, Mr. G- I mean M-Micheal! I won't make the mistake again!"
I sighed. This was going to be one, long day.