Augmented freak. The term resonated in the back of her mind. The waitress that had been serving them had an artificial arm; each time she picked up the glasses scattered along the table, the metal fingertips would clatter and ring into the air. She was beautiful, but she had grown increasingly more uncomfortable as the evening went on due to her father's judgmental remarks and comments. Funnily enough, the only people who paid mind were her, Zeke, and the girl that looked to be out of her mind. The rest acted like everything was fine and dandy. It pissed Desirae off. “What are you doing here, anyway?” Desirae asked after the pizza plates were taken away from them. The deep-dish pizza was okay, the sauce left a funny taste on her tongue and the cheese was cold. She turned to look at Zeke again, her eyebrow raised and eyes narrowed. The idea of him being involved with anybody who knew her father well enough to grab pizza casually was not the ideal. “I was invited out by Markus,” he responded just as quietly as she had spoken. He spun his unused fork around on the table, watching as it spun wildly before clattering onto his lap. He sighed and neatly placed it next to his glass, turning to look at her. “What are you doing here? It’s not often you two have daddy-daughter time.” The tone that dripped off his tongue was so sardonic that it earned the most dramatic eye roll. “Let’s just say it was my big mouth earning me some good ol’ karma.” He hummed and smiled, bringing the glass of beer to his lips. She didn’t see him drink very often, especially not in public. Turns out working in a corporate environment allowed him to skirt around some of the rules with little question. “You do have a big fuckin’ mouth.” “Yeah, just think about this: all this sass, I learned from you.” “From me? Nah, that’s all in the Abernathy name.” She chuckled dryly, twiddling with her thumbs, and watched as her father stood. He didn’t say anything to the table, he simply waved for one of the guys to follow him—who Desirae assumed was Markus. She followed them as they headed outside with her eyes, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. This random guy had said maybe four words to her since she had arrived, but the way her father cozied up to him and treated him like a brother—it all made her assume the worst. And if she was right about anything, it was that tragedy and scandals followed Congressman Abernathy. “So, your dad’s like a… governor?” Desirae blinked at the sound, her eyes landing on the intoxicated woman across the table. Raising a brow, she wondered if she was being serious. Just as she opened her mouth to respond, the girl chimed in again. “I am Luci, a friend of Markus.” “Your friend seems awfully quiet.” Desirae wasn’t trying to hide her distrust in him, she knew nobody would do anything about her attitude here. The crowd was that of computer geeks and a druggie now that her father had left. “Markus?” Luci smiled, her teeth bright and a smiley piercing rubbing against her front teeth. “He is such a sweetheart! I have to say that Zeke fellow over there probably has em’ beat, though.” Desirae flashed her eyes and nodded awkwardly. “Yeah, seems to be that way.” If Desirae cared to tell the truth, she would have told Luci he seemed like a grade-a asshole. She wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight, though. “Anyway, your dad… is it weird to have a governor as a dad?” “He’s not a governor, but it has its negatives. Luci, are you high?” She lazily blinked, her left eye opening after her right one. Every time she moved her head, one of her irises would glisten just a little more than the other one would. It took her a minute before she shook her head ‘no’. Although she deflected Desirae’s question, the size of her pupil told different stories. “Anyways, Zeke. I think it’s my time to find a way home.” “You’re looking at your way home, Des!” Smiling subtly, she stood without further question and waved goodbye to Luci. “Bye, Luci. Nice to meet you.” Just as she turned on her heel, Luci stood too and grabbed her wrist. Jumping, Desirae looked down at her grasp with a frown and tore her hand away. She didn’t like being touched. “Listen, uh, Des? Yeah, that’s your name?” She asked. Desirae nodded with pursed lips. “Okay, so, I need friends. You know? Do you want to hang out sometime and be… friends?” Desirae blinked in confusion, looking between her and Zeke with a parted mouth. Alright, this girl has gotta be high, Desirae told herself before nodding hesitantly. “Sure, uh… Wait, sorry, but why?” Desirae asked and shoved her hands into her pockets. The girl didn’t even bat an eye, and instead smiled so wide it caught her off guard. “As I said earlier, you and I could be good friends, Des! We all need friends.” She reached out a hand, offering to shake. Throughout that entire interaction, she didn’t blink, she didn’t breathe—she was like a walking robot. Something crossed over her iris, like a laser scanning a document, and then she blinked. Once, twice, three times. Desirae reluctantly shook her hand, cursing under her breath when something pinched her palm. Tearing her hand away, she looked down and saw a needle-sized prick reddening from a thin layer of blood. “What the fuck?” “What? You said you wanted to be friends. See you soon, Desirae.” Letting out a gasp, she watched Luci as she made her way around her. Her hips swayed, and her hands slid into the pocket of her jacket as she left the building without another word. It was clear that the girl knew who Desirae was before tonight, and that it was entirely a front to act so dazedly and confused. Cupping her other hand over her palm, she turned on her heel and called after her. “Hey, Luci! Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Zeke called after her, telling her to calm down and stop yelling. Her palm felt numb—it didn’t hurt, but it felt like something microscopic had stung her. When she went through the doors, Luci was already down the block and waving her hand in the air. A mockingly exaggerated goodbye. Turning on her heel, she huffed out some air and rubbed her hand nervously. Zeke moved in front of her with a furrowed brow, mumbling something to her with worry. At first, Desirae thought she wasn’t paying attention—unintentionally zoning out, but when her ears began to ring and her vision began to blur, she understood whatever Luci did to her was going to raise some hell. Just as she was attempting to respond to her best friend, the world began to fade away. Dissolving into a state of blackness, the only thing illuminating the darkness a pathway of lights that had not existed moments prior. As she looked all around, giant letters sprawled across an electric, holographic billboard. Replacing a normal acne medication advertisement were giant, neon letters that oozed their purple hue all across the vading Chicago streets; a greeting for her that encouraged her into the darkness. Eventually, she was left in nothing by that void, the lights leading her away. [W]elCome to the [S]treets, Desirae. Follow your path.