tWhere's my money?"
A phrase that filled Alex's heart with dread. A question voiced warm with faux friendliness. In fact, that fake friendliness was that much more threatening. It was like a shallow veil that barely hid something horrible and hateful underneath.
"What do you mean? I already paid for this month," said Alex. He stood against the filth stained, graffiti scarred wall of his mega-apartment complex where 20,000 unlucky low-income residents – Alex included – were packed into like sardines in a can.
"No, you have to pay extra, remember?" said Cal. He was talking about a 'protection fee'. That was common around these shady parts of town. He was about eighteen. Around Alex's own age. But that was here the similarities between them began and ended.
Cal was a man that embodied everything that Alex was not.
Cal was tall, towering over Alex's decisively average height with his basketball star level verticality.
Cal was built with gym worked and, questionably, steroid assisted muscles where Alex was pale skin and bones on the verge of malnourishment.
Cal had on a skull motif bomber jacket that showed that he was part of the Crossbones, the gang that controlled this neighborhood. In contrast, Alex had on a wrinkled grey uniform with a snowflake shaped badge that showed he was a student at Snowfield Academy - the best school in this city.
Cal demanded his gang's protection money from Alex. All Alex could do was break down under his demands.
Cal put a palm against Alex's chest and shoved him forward. Alex felt his back press against the grimy wall of the building behind him. The filth there, half dried vomit, urine, acid rain, spray paint – all of it stained on his uniform.
Alex grimaced. Snowfield Academy did not tolerate any stains on their uniform, believing in uptight bullshit like 'a stain on your uniform is a stain on our reputation'. But laundry in the mega-complex was communal and cost 3 credits to run.
Alex was already running below budget this month covering for his dad's treatment, not to mention paying rent. Every little bit mattered.
And now, depending on how much Cal demanded from him, Alex would have to deal with eviction.
Why? Just why did Alex have to be at the mercy of a piece of shit like Cal? Deep down, though, Alex knew why.
Cal was strong and free to do what he wanted, to take from whoever he wanted. Alex was a slave to his weakness and thus was taken from.
"Don't make this hard," said Cal, noticing Alex's frown and hesitation. "And pay up while I'm asking nicely."
"How about we teach him a lesson already?" said Brent, one of Cal's gangster friends. He was shorter than Cal but wider with an ugly face that Alex could only describe as orcish. "Little rat thinks he's above paying us just cause' he's going to that fancy school."
"Yeah, Alex, you're a snowflake, aren't you?" said Cal. He bent down and grabbed Alex's rough black hair and pulled him up like he was pulling a puppy up by its neck. "C'mon. Once you graduate, you're gonna be working for a big name corporation, aren't you? Won't you spare us poor street kids some change, huh? We even went to middle school together, didn't we?"
Alex grit his teeth in pain as he felt his hair strain on its ends from Cal's iron grip.
"How long is this going to take?" said Jen impatiently. She was Cal's girlfriend and whatever that quote was about opposites attracting was a total lie because both of them were grade-A assholes. Jen looked at herself through her phone camera, practicing smiles and poses.
She was a relatively famous Snapshot model with a slender hourglass figure and a small, pretty face, though how much of that was makeup was up for debate. "This place smells like piss. C'mon, you guys can't even scare a limp-dicked wimp like him?"
"…Are you questioning me?" Cal shot a glare at Jen, and she shrunk back in fear.
"Better." Cal turned his attention back to Alex, fiercer now that his masculinity was questioned. He slammed Alex by the hair against the hard wall.
Alex felt the world tilt as impact rocked the back of his head. Pain and nausea assailed him. He was going to collapse, but again, Cal held him up like a piece of meat.
"You know, your old man's real thin lately. How about I go and pay him a visit, huh? Maybe it'll make him feel better." Cal bent down until his predatory glare was even with Alex's. "Or maybe not."
"H-how much?" said Alex.
"500 creds."
"Wh-what?"
Alex smirked. "You're not an idiot, so you must be going deaf. I'll say it again just because I like helping out the disabled, but not again. 500 credits."
500 credits was…too much. Way too much. Alex did not cry outwardly, he never did, no matter how hard the going got.
But inwards, he was breaking down. He was working a part time job, writing a novel to make extra side income, and juggling the academy to pay for rent and his dad's medicine.
But all of that was enough just to barely survive.
The apartment's monthly rent alone was 800 credits. The normal Crossbones protection fee was just 100 credits -a necessity because the police did not touch rough neighborhoods like this.
There was no way in hell Alex could just plop down what was two thirds of the monthly rent on a whim. He had nothing in his savings. He was living paycheck to paycheck in a house of poverty stained cards that would collapse at just the hint of trouble.
And this was that trouble.
'Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Why did I have to run into these guys? Why!?,' thought Alex. 'I've always done my best to avoid them, coming home early, missing out on networking sessions and after hours tutoring, but the one day I have to make up a test, the one day – it all goes to shit.'
Just because Alex was in Snowfield, because he was studying to try and be something more than the next overdosed drug addict on the block, he turned into a massive target.
People thought he was going to be rich. They demanded things from him. And gangster idiots like these guys thought he was now a stuck up, glorified piggy bank despite the fact that he struggled in the muck of poverty like everyone else here.
"Doesn't look like he's listening," said Brent. "Want me to break his face in?"
"You shut up and stay there. I'm handling this," said Cal, and Brent froze in place. Cal's grip moved from the top of Alex's head to his neck. Then, he stopped. He stood again and started to turn around. "I'm going to your dad. Maybe he'll be more cooperative."
"Here." Alex got his phone out and opened his bank app. He tried to avoid looking at the number in his savings account. He knew the sight would be painful. But he could not help it. There were 550 credits left in there.
After this, just 50.
"Great! I knew you were a smart kid, Alex." Cal chuckled and patted Alex on the shoulder. He took out his own phone and held it against Alex's. "Now, give your old buddy some help."
A message popped up on Alex's phone.
[REQUEST FOR 500 CREDITS PENDING.]
[APPROVE] [DENY]
Alex hesitated for a second, his finger hovering over the [DENY] button. There was only so much he could take. Only so much of his pride he could give away. If it was just him, he would have denied and fought back no matter how bloody and beaten he got.
But…
Alex thought of his father. On that tiny bed, coughing away, his lungs rotting from the inside out. The loving man that had raised Alex when their mother ran out on them. The dad that made this miserable existence tolerable.
When Alex thought about harm going his dad's way, he knew he had no choice.
[APPROVE]
Alex saw his credits drop down from 550 to 50 in real time.
Cal whistled and took his hand off Alex's shoulder. "Damn, you had 500 credits to spare just like that? You're in the major leagues already, aren't you, Alex? Make sure you don't forget about us when you get a corporate job, yeah?"
Alex remained quiet, his head hanging low in misery.
"Now then-," Cal turned, as if to walk away, but then he spun around, planting a punch into Alex's gut.
Alex collapsed to his knees, doubled over, his breath leaving him. He wheezed and writhed on the dirty street floor like a worm.
"What was that for!?" said Jen. "You know I don't like seeing you beat people in front of me!"
"Yeah? But threatening them out of money is cool? Shut up, bitch." Cal squatted down by Alex's prone body. "That was for making things harder than they had to be. Be grateful it isn't worse."
Cal finally walked away, for real this time. He waved his group to him.
"Come on," said Cal, his voice growing fainter as he walked farther and farther away. "We got a big haul today. Drinks are on me…"
Alex closed his eyes and lay there on the street, surrounded by beer bottle glass shards, crushed cans, used needles – all manner of street filth. He just stayed still, getting his breath back, cursing his own existence.
'If only…I was stronger. Better. I wouldn't have to deal with this. I could have money. I could fight anyone I wanted. I could have a girlfriend, no why not just stop at one, I could have a whole group of girls after me…' Alex shook his head, weakly managing to sit up and lean against the dirty wall. Cal's cocky face popped in his mind's eye. "Just like him. But most importantly-,"
He closed his eyes, dispelling Cal's image. He felt light rain pattering down on him. 'I could…protect my dad.'
Ding.
Alex opened his eyes. A man in a trench coat stood over Alex for a brief moment. A moment brief enough that it was impossible to catch his features under the shade of his wide brimmed hat before the mysterious stranger strolled away.
Alex looked down. There was a half crushed, rusted can in front of him – a piece of trash that happened to be near him- and within it there was now a single golden coin. It shone with a splendor that made it very clear that it was valuable.
The man must have thought Alex was homeless or something. But to drop a gold coin?
"W-wait." Alex grabbed the coin in his palm and weakly moved out the alleyway, trying to catch the man to return the coin.
Even though it was tempting, Alex made it a point to never take anything he himself did not work for.
But the man had disappeared already. It was late night and that coupled with the less than reputable streets here meant not many people were about. No crowd to vanish into. Wide open streets showcasing cracked pavement and sputtering streetlights.
But the
Alex did not think too hard about it. Whoever the man was, he did not want the coin back.
Alex looked down at the coin in his hand. It was fairly large, bigger than any coin he knew. And coins were antiques at this point anyway. After the establishment of the Credit Currency Organization, the world had united under a single currency based on money known as credits.
It was an easy way to get rid of clunky physical currency and transition to a more convenient virtual system.
Convenient on the user end because anyone could easily manage their credits with just a phone and convenient on the government and corporation end because they could track virtual credits better than physical currency.
"Is this…solid gold?" Alex wondered, holding the coin under his phone's light. It sparkled with a shiny, polished luster that practically oozed value. He scrutinized the coin's face and found a woman's face carved on it.
The carving was intricately detailed, showing the woman's side profile in a pensive, close eyed pose, like she was praying. She held a sword to which she touched her forehead.
"Is this some kind of antique? A historical artifact?" Alex looked the coin over, flipping it back. There was nothing on the back. "Roman? No, it doesn't resemble any historical currency I know. Hm…
In any case, it was not a good idea to be standing out in these streets with what looked like solid gold. Alex pocketed the coin and hurried to his apartment, hoping that god, if he existed in any capacity, would not grace him with a round two of shit luck.
==
"Here, dad." Alex put a tray down on a shaky nightstand beside his father's bed. On it was a cup of black tea – his dad's favorite – and one green and blue pill.
Alex had dressed out of his dirty uniform into a plain white t-shirt and shorts. He had cleaned the muck out of his hair and body to make sure his dad did not worry.
Thankfully, Cal had only punched Alex in the stomach, where the bruise did not show.
All Alex had to do was ignore the aching pain in his belly and show a smile for his dad.
"Thanks, son." Alex's dad sat up. He was a frail, thin man, his skin barely clinging to his bones at this point. His once thick head of black hair had thinned out. His eyes were sunken in, but they still twinkled with the strength of a healthy man happy in his son's accomplishments.
After all, it was no easy feat for a poor kid like Alex to get into Snowfield Academy. He had only managed to do so through a special scholarship program for the needy like him, but even that was a one in a million chance.
"How was school? Any girl there you're interested in? Or maybe, with those good looks of yours, girls, plural?" Alex's dad smiled as he drank a sip of tea. "They better be rich. Lord knows we could use a heiress to boost us over here, hah!"
"No, luck, dad. And please, you're the only one that thinks I look good," said Alex. And that was true. Alex had pale twigs for arms and legs. His face was pretty bad, too, with sickly sunken in cheeks and deep dark bags under his eyes that made him look like he had seen death.
He belonged more on the cover of a horror movie than any model magazine, that was for sure. Maybe he should audition for the role of a zombie. He'd still be a nobody waiting to get gunned down by the main characters, but hey, at least he'd get paid for it.
"Heh, you underestimate yourself, Alex. You gotta be confident. Stand tall and proud," said Alex's dad. "You're my kid, after all."
'Proud of what? I have nothing,' was what Alex thought, but he booted those thoughts away. He was just bitter because of his recent beating. He knew his dad meant well. "I know, dad."
Alex's dad was a decorated veteran who had been honorably discharged after losing a leg saving his comrades from an ambush. He had been a strong, tough as nails guy, but none of that had carried over genetics wise to Alex.
Alex was forever cursed to be scrawny, about as talented in sports as a slug with comparable looks to boot.
"Sorry, but I have to do some homework tonight," said Alex. "You mind if I leave you alone?"
"Of course. I'd never get in the way of your work. TV's good enough for me," said Alex's dad. He sat up, watching the news. There, a reporter was at the scene of a crater with the headline at the bottom reading 'GAS LEAK CAUSES EXPLOSION IN SOUTHSIDE. NO FATALITIES…'
"Isn't that where you take the metro up to Northside, where the academy is?" said Alex's dad. "You better be careful. There's been a lot of accidents lately. Folks say it's the street gangs acting up."
'Yeah, tell me about it,' was what Alex wanted to say, but he just nodded. "I'll stay safe. And don't watch too much news. They only show the bad stuff. It might get to your head."
"Trust me, son, I've seen worse. I also know that it's always when things seem at their worst that they get better."
Alex saw his father staring at him with a pointed look, and he knew then that his dad knew something was wrong. It was an invitation for Alex to open up to his dad.
"I know it's Friday, but I have a major project due next week," said Alex, rejecting the invitation. "I'll have to start working on it tonight."
With that, Alex, returned to his room.
==
In his room, Alex put on his reading glasses and scrolled through page after page of ancient coin images from his rickety old laptop. Stacks of notebooks for various classes stood beside his laptop, as did physical copies of novels chock full of stories about main characters sent to different worlds where they got hideously overpowered with a harem full of girls with candy colored hair.
Yes, it was lame to like that kind of stuff, but whatever. It was Alex's way of escaping from his shitty life.
The mysterious coin was also on his desk, shining there at him with an air of enigma.
"Nothing matches…" Alex leaned back in his creaky chair, staring down at the coin in confusion. The only light in his room came from the blue of laptop screen. "What the hell is this?
Alex had tried to figure out what the coin was to value it. That way, he could sell it because damn, was he in a bad spot right now. If he did not get a big infusion of cash soon, he wouldn't be able to pay rent.
Rent was already a week overdue. He only had another week before his landlord could just kick him and his dad out. Once that happened, it was all over. They would not last a week on the streets, especially his dad.
The more Alex studied into the coin, though, the more helpless he felt. The coin had zero matches with any known historical artifact. On top of that, trying out regular gold tests all made the coin seem suspiciously not like gold.
Alex had bitten down on the coin one too many times to see if the gold would dent slightly, but the damn coin was as hard as a rock.
Putting it in water to see how dense it was made it just sink straight to the bottom like it was made of lead.
However, the coin's weight was strangely light and didn't match up with what solid gold should have felt like in that quantity weight wise.
At the very least, Alex hoped the coin had some kind of gold coating, but knowing his bad luck, even that was a long shot to ask for.
"I swear I'm going to sell you. Once I figure out what you are." Alex glared at the coin before sighing, getting back to his search.
A few hours later, and Alex's determination became desperation. Night had turned into early morning Faint sunlight strands started to squeeze their way through the blinds of his tiny window.
Alex positively recoiled from the sunlight, night creature that he was, but he knew then that he really needed to get some sleep. He had found nothing on the coin, and he doubted smashing his head against the proverbial wall would do anything more.
The only thing he could do at this point was get it appraised at a pawn shop or something.
Alex shut down his laptop, but before he went to bed, he clasped his hands in desperate prayer.
"Please, god, if you're out there you lazy bum, I've never asked anything from you, but just this once, let this coin actually be worth something. I'll give everything I have.
Except, oh wait, I have nothing. Whatever." Alex finished his sad excuse of a prayer and then plopped belly first onto his bed.
Pain radiated from his stomach, forcing him to lie on his back.
He put his hand on his belly, at the hurting bruise, and frowned. It reminded him of Cal's smug face. They were probably out downtown partying away with HIS hard-earned money. He raised a clenched fist into the air.
"I swear, Cal, you and your dumbass friends, I'll pay you back someday. Somehow. Shit, I sound like a sore loser. But I guess I am one…" Alex sighed and closed his eyes, and surprisingly, despite the pain aching in his belly, sleep found him quickly.
…
…
…
[Ding]
[Suitable Host found...]
[Analyzing Host's memories…]
[Adapting ------ to Host's innate preferences…]
[Dating Simulator System formulated]
[System initializing…]