Mmm-mmm-mmm.

It didn't matter if you'd been working there the whole night; Velvet Crumble bakery always smelled wonderful, with its fresh pastries and loaves of bread, all baked daily.

It was hard work that went underpaid, but it was still a decent job, considering the location.

Skye sauntered out of the washroom and checked the clock. 10:58pm, two minutes before he was off his closing shift. All of his duties had been finished up, so he opted to leave then and there rather than waiting the last two minutes out.

Let's get this over with. He turned the lights off and headed to the exit.

As he opened the glass door, Skye checked left and right. Nothing suspicious. He slipped outside, quickly blending in to the flow of pedestrians around him.

He pulled the hood of his coat up. Not only did it help hide his identity, but the ever-present rainy mist from the upper city had already begun soaking into his messy, brown hair. His job had him inside for most of the afternoon hours, so daylight was a luxury, even though the “daylight” was merely a set of poor, imitation floodlights beaming down from the base of the upper city.

But it didn't bother him too much. He'd lived in the Miyatama's lower city long enough to accustom himself to the gloomy environment.

Guided by floating street lamps, neon storefronts, and holographic advertisements lining the walkways, Skye broke away from the crowds with a brief detour. The western road would take him to the ultraloop station that'd bring him home, but one of his favourite food stalls was only a few seconds north in a commercial district brimming with activity.

The street was known simply as 67-40, and the scent in the air was amazing. With every inhale, Skye got a whiff of various meals from several different ethnicities. No vehicles were allowed; the entire area was for pedestrians only.

Probably the only good part of the city.

Surprisingly, there were only two others waiting in line at his booth of choice, even at this time of night. Not bad. He could afford it; an extra minute or two in public wouldn't hurt. Plus, he'd been saving up for his monthly special meal for Cassandra. He lined up in front of Adeline Box, keeping his head down until it was his turn in line.

Seconds felt like minutes standing alone in plain sight. But he braved it. For her.

Soon, it was his turn, and he stepped up to the front of the stall.

“Hi, what would you like?” One of the chefs asked Skye, already pulling out a clean wok for one of the other chefs in the back.

“Can I get two pad thai specials?”

“Yes, 950 srakna.”

A little expensive, but not egregious. Skye pulled out his wallet and handed him two bills, each for 500 srakna. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you.” The chef accepted the money with a smile, tucking it into a register underneath the front of the booth, before putting on a pair of sterile gloves and joining his partner in the tiny kitchen.

Waiting in front of the glowing food stall felt like being on centre stage with a spotlight cast on him. Skye was torn between keeping a vigilant eye out by maniacally looking around every two seconds, or staying put with his head down. He chose the latter.

The two chefs quickly communicated back and forth in a foreign language as noodles and vegetables sizzled in the woks, filling the area with the delicious, savoury scent of Thai food.

Moments later, the chefs arranged the food in two compact boxes, bagged them, and presented them to Skye.

“Thanks!” Skye took them and power-walked back to his original route on the western road, blending into the crowds as soon as possible.

As the clock ticked onward, the density of the pedestrians around him slowly dwindled. By 11pm, the streets would almost be dead silent – an eerie juxtaposition to the currently bustling roads. It wasn't a situation he wanted to be caught in, given his circumstances.

Although the crowds offered him some level of anonymity, the ultraloop would be still have a fair amount of passengers. He could opt to wait until the near silence at around 11pm, but it was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

Skye approached the ultraloop station and branched off from the others again, making his way down the stairs to the underground passage.

Wide open, well lit, and only two large pillars in the middle of the ultraloop platform. By far, he felt the most vulnerable here. With very few faces to hide behind, he sat down on one of the benches against the central pillars. Head down, as usual.

Thankfully, with the sheer speed the hyper-speed train moved at, he didn't have to wait long; a loud whirr echoed from down the tunnel next to the platform, and the hyperloop shuttle came to a quick stop at the station.

The doors opened, and Skye rushed in to be among the first to board.

So far, so good. He quickly found a cushy window seat. Nobody sat beside him, allowing him a moment of solace. The ultraloop played a series of chimes before announcing its destination, arrival time (only a minute until his stop), and reminding everybody to lower their safety harnesses for the ride.

It was hard to tell when the shuttle began moving, aside from the shuttle's engines quietly humming throughout the cabins. The AZ-Gravitas technology used on the ultraloop – widely advertised and common knowledge to the layman – completely removed the sensation of acceleration, allowing the shuttle to change speeds at otherwise dangerous rates.

One look out the shuttle's window showed the tunnel zipping by in an utter blur, despite resting at a total stop mere seconds prior; Skye couldn't look outside for long without risking motion sickness. He just kept his head down and waited for the chime.

Bing, bong. Moments later, the ultraloop came to a stop.

On cue, Skye rose from his seat and shuffled over to the ultraloop's exit. He exited behind a small group of people, two of whom were a pair of adorable, light purple, humanoid robots.

Skye cracked a smile, if only for a moment.

He rushed past the other people and hopped up the underground station's stairs to return to the streets. His home was only a few roads away, and he didn't plan on wasting any more time. Plus, he was hungry.

The quasi-residential district was much less inviting than the commercial streets. The buildings looked similar to the others – sleek, metallic, and tall – but they lacked the colour and vibrancy of the bustling crowds and neon lights. Not to mention the piles of garbage lining the sidewalks, the boarded up storefronts, and the occasional drug dealer hovering around the featureless intersections.

No dealers, tonight, though. Just a pair of guys toking next to an abandoned shop. Despite their outwardly jovial disposition, Skye cautiously crossed to the other side of the road.

59-39, a nearby street sign read. Skye's home was one road over, at 58-39. So close, yet so far; his home was only minutes away, but he'd be trekking through the worst parts of town.

Turning the street corner was always a tense moment. Only a block or so away was his home. Aside from a couple more people on the opposite side of the street, he couldn't see anyone else around him.

No. Someone was behind him. The distinct rustling of clothes caught his attention. He reeled around–

Skye flew into the building next to him, recoiling from the impact of something on his head. He bounced off the tinted window and hit the ground on his side.

Someone was standing above him. Messily quaffed hair, denim jacket and green shirt: it was him.

He planted his foot down on Skye's chest. Skye grunted in pain.

“I'm getting fuckin' tired of all this wait-waiting around, motherfucker.” The man pulled out a handgun from a concealed holster, and he pointed it at Skye's face.

Skye didn't struggle or fight back. He stared up at the man through narrowed eyes, trying to catch his breath through clenched teeth.

“You don't get me my goddamn cash by the end of the week, you're fucked, cunt.” He rattled the gun. “Pop your fuckin' dome clean off. 19,000 srakna by Sunday or your bitch ass is goin' under. You fuckin' got it?”

“Y-yep,” Skye groaned.

“Last fucking warning.” He put the gun away back under his coat, and scraped his boot off on Skye's chest. He adjusted his coat and casually walked off, as if the encounter hadn't even happened.

Skye slowly brought himself up to his feet. With shaky hands, he brushed himself off and looked around, desperately hoping nobody saw what happened. Indeed, he now seemed to be alone, aside from that shark sauntering off in the distance.

His head was ringing and pounding. It wasn't the first time he'd had a gun pointed at him, but the idea of his life ending in an instant was something he'd never get used to. He put a hand on the side of his head where he'd been hit. No blood... was it just a punch? Damn... that was a metal hand, for sure...

He looked down; his bag of pad thai had fallen sideways on the ground. One of the boxes had opened up and spilled on the sidewalk, but the other seemed to be intact on closer inspection.

“Fuck.” Skye put the intact box back in the bag and lifted it up, flicking off a couple stray noodles into the pile of ruined food. “Fuck...”

He wasn't fond of littering, but the place was already such a dump that he didn't care all that much. Stray animals and rodents would get to it well before it spoiled, anyways.

Not even a block away, Skye's home was now in sight. Or, not his home, but the tiny alcove between two neighbouring buildings that led to his home, just as plain and metallic as the rest. He ran across the empty street, straight towards the alcove.

Double checking to make sure nobody was watching him, he slipped inside. After approaching his door, he entered an eight digit security code on the door's keypad, and the lock clicked open.

Skye placed his palm on the door handle. He shut his eyes and creased his brow, exhaling sharply through his teeth. Several seconds passed before he pushed the door open.

He walked into the dining room and locked the door behind him. “Hello! I'm home!” he called out in a voice filled with elation, fighting past his aching head.

“Skye! You're home!” A child's voice enthusiastically replied. Footsteps pattered through the house until Cassandra, Skye's younger sister, met him in the dining room, wearing navy blue pajamas. “How are you?”

“Ahh... I'm okay.” He smiled. “Feeling better now that I'm home. How about you?”

“How come you're all dirty?” Cassandra asked, ignoring Skye's question.

“Oh, that?” He looked down at his sullied coat and jeans. “I tripped and fell when I was coming home. No big deal! But hey, guess what I got?” Skye lifted the bag of food up onto the table.

“Mmm...!” Cassandra put a finger on her chin. “Pasta!” she shouted, dramatically holding her finger in the air.

“Close! Any other guesses?”

“Noodles!!” she triumphantly cheered.

“Yeah!” Skye pulled the box out of the bag and placed it at the edge of the table for Cassandra. “Ah, shoot... we'll have to use one of the forks we have here. I forgot to get utensils.”

“It's okay. I like forks, anyways.”

Skye set her up with the box of pad thai and a fork at the table. “Okay, eat up so you can get a good sleep tonight. I have to go take a shower now. Then it'll be bedtime after that.”

“Okay...” Cassandra's tone noticeably drooped. “Are you going to eat too?”

“Not tonight. I'll get something a little later. Sorry.”

“Aww... okay.” She dug into the pad thai without any further hesitation.

Skye stepped away from the table. Just to the right of the dining room was the living room, furnished with a flatscreen television, a pair of small couches, and a Serrako game console lying on the floor with two controllers attached. Not a window in sight, which was a welcome design choice for Skye.

On the left side of the living room was a small hallway with a closet, washroom, and two bedrooms: first Cassandra's, then Skye's at the end of the hall.

He slipped into his cluttered room for a quick second to grab the clothes sitting on the dresser next to the door – loose slacks and a baggy shirt. He then shut his door and made his way into the bathroom.

Skye flicked the light on and let out a deep breath. He stripped down, walked into the glass shower booth, and turned the water on.

“Ahh, shit, shit,” he hissed as the cold water hit him. He awkwardly crouched in the corner of the shower as he waited for the water to warm up.

Surprisingly, it didn't take longer than 20 seconds. Hydro plants must be having a good one today.

As the water heated up and steam began rising throughout the room, he shut his eyes and relaxed his muscles, washing the streets off both his mind and body.