Henk led the boys through the busy skate park. Graffiti covered every solid surface in a dizzying display of colours and styles. At this time of year, the park seemed like it was dying. The unkempt grass withered to brown and the naked trees were robbed of their foliage. Patches of mud and puddles of water collected in every dip and corner. Connor watched out of the corner of his eye, wary of gang members wanting to make trouble. Groups of teens stood together, smoking E-Cigs, watching those skating. Nobody seemed to be wearing gang colours. Connor sighed in relief.

“She’s just up here,” said Henk, pointing to a stand of leafless trees.

Joshua was buzzing with anticipation while Henk seemed buoyed with smug satisfaction. They walked through some bare trees to an open clearing, where two girls sat on a tree trunk facing each other, hoods hiding their faces. Smoke hung above their heads in the calm of the grove. The sweet scent of the decaying leaves mixing with the pungent smell of tobacco. Henk whistled loudly. The girls turned to face the noise.

“Hey! I brought my friends,” said Henk walking up to the girl wearing a dark red hooded sweatshirt. Henk pulled back her hood and planted a passionate kiss on her waiting mouth.

“Hello, babe,” said the girl, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Henk and the girl continued to kiss. Connor stared at them with a jealous hunger.

Joshua closed in on the other girl. “I’m Joshua,” he said, thrusting his hand at her. “Henk didn’t say he knew so many pretty women…”

“Sara,” replied the girl, shaking his hand.

“Is that a French accent?” asked Joshua.

Sara nodded.

“Um… Très bien. Ravi de vous rencontrer,” said Joshua, putting on a fake accent

“Nice to meet you, too,” replied Sara.

Henk and his girlfriend stopped kissing, wrapping their arms around each other as they giggled. “Sorry, boys. Excuse my manners. This gorgeous creature is Claudia.”

Claudia waved at the others. “Hi, boys.”

“The awkward one at the back is Connor,” said Henk shrugging, his eyes locked on Claudia.

Connor realised the two girls were staring at him. He smiled nervously at them and tried to act more relaxed. Sara laughed and turned to Joshua who had sat almost uncomfortably close by her on the tree trunk. Claudia and Henk started making out again. Connor looked away, trying to find something else to focus on.

“What are you girls up to?” asked Joshua.

“Just relaxing and planning our night,” replied Sara.

“Really?” asked Joshua. “Are there any parties planned?”

Sara shrugged. “Maybe. We shall see…”

“What about the curfew?” asked Connor, shuffling closer to the others.

Sara giggled. “It’s fine as long as you don’t leave until the next morning. Have you never had a ‘shut- in’ before?”

“There are many things Connor hasn’t tried,” said Joshua, nudging Sara.

Sara and Joshua laughed.

Connor’s face went beat red. “Whatever…”

“Nice come back, Hill,” said Joshua. “Are you having a ‘shut-in’ tonight, Sara?”

Sara picked up her phone. “That was the idea. We’re waiting on the address. They don’t send the invites out until an hour before they open. Sometimes the cops shut them down. Wait and see I guess…”

“Oh, that reminds me,” said Henk, coming up for air. “Did you score any gear, babe?”

Claudia slid out of Henk’s embrace, a coy smile on her lips. She picked up a child’s backpack. “What’s your poison?”

“Damn! What did you get?” asked Henk, wide eyed.

Claudia opened the bag and shuffled through its contents. “A little Lace. Some Smooth. Two points of Kett…”

Henk reached for the bag to inspect it himself. Claudia held it away from him. “Noooo… Where’s my payment first?”

Henk gave her a hasty kiss.

“Nice…” said Claudia. “But that doesn’t pay my bills.”

Henk laughed and dug into his pockets, bringing out a wad of plastic bills. “How much for the lot?”

Claudia thought for a moment. “Three spot for the whole bag.”

Henk handed the cash over without a qualm. Claudia snatched it from his hand and started counting.

Connor blinked. It was more money than he made in a fortnight. Henk just wasted it all on a bag of drugs like it was nothing. Connor looked to Joshua, one finger pointing at the stash of psycho-actives. His friend was really trying to pour the charm onto Sara who seemed happy with the attention.

He walked away, suddenly finding himself very jealous of his friends and uncertain of the whole situation. It was obvious that he would be the fifth wheel in this party. He was tempted to just walk home and be done with it.

“Hey, Connor! Did you want to try some Lace or what?” shouted Joshua.

Connor saw the four of them sitting along the tree trunk, sharing a vial of Lace. Henk was blowing a thick plume of vapour in the air, his eyes glazing over. Joshua was giving him a stern look, one hand on Sara’s knee. Connor bit his lip, thinking. He had tried Lace before. It hadn’t done anything for him. If it helped to restore some points with his friends it was worth it. Maybe.

“Yeah,” replied Connor, walking back.

Henk handed the vial to him. Connor inspected it in the light. “Is it any good?”

“Like you’d know?” scoffed Joshua.

“It’s pretty mellow stuff,” said Sara. “Good to relax with.”

Connor raised it to his lips. “Okay…”

He breathed deeply, inhaling the scented vapour. A sensation of warmth washed over him, starting in his lungs and radiating outwards. He breathed out, the tension he had been holding in his body releasing. “Wow…” As he swayed side to side he could feel the effects wearing off.

“You okay?” asked Claudia, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep,” replied Connor, taking another hit. He exhaled and repeated, a childish need to impress the others overcoming him. The radiating warmth had become a torrent. He lost himself in the sensation cascading through his mind and body.

“Woah! One is enough, dude,” said Henk, snatching the vial from his limp hands.

Connor tried to grab it back but stumbled forward and hit the ground.

He heard laughter. Somebody flipped him on his back and slapped his cheeks. The pain didn’t register, like it was happening to someone else. Connor giggled and reached for the lights dancing in the sky.

He woke up, his body in a cold sweat. He shook the last vestiges of the drug from his mind and sat up. The sun had almost gone down and this part of the park was virtually pitch-black. He heard the sound of people making out. Claudia and Henk were on the tree trunk several metres away from him, engrossed in each other. He assumed Joshua and Sara had gone elsewhere.

Claudia saw him stand, steadying himself against the trunk. “Are you okay, Connor?”

“I’m fine,” he replied.

Henk turned to him, red eyed and ashen. “You survived!”

Connor nodded back at him.

“Are you going to come to the club with us? Joshua has phoned his sister and told her he is staying with me tonight,” said Henk, slurring his words.

Connor shook his head. “I have to work early in the morning.”

“Go straight to work from the club. You can do it...” said Claudia. “Come dance with us.”

Connor’s envy of his friends reared again, and for a second, he thought he could do it. Go to a club and find a girl…

But no.

He knew he would waste the night, standing in the corner, unable to talk or move — an awkward observer in a room of debauchery.

“No. I had better get going,” said Connor, shaking his head.

“Your loss,” replied Claudia before kissing Henk.

“Do you need money for a cab?” asked his friend.

“No,” replied Connor, perhaps more hotly than he intended. “Keep your money. I can walk.”

Henk shrugged and got back to business with Claudia.

Connor picked up his fallen backpack and left, his face burning red. He felt like a fool. Hanging out in dodgy neighbourhoods and taking drugs, all so he could meet girls. Or at least his friends could. He kicked at the fallen leaves on the ground.

Lamp posts illuminated the skate park. Most of the skaters had left. A few groups sat around smoking and drinking. They watched Connor walk by, sizing him up. Connor prepared himself to run. He heard laughter but nobody accosted him. A police gyro flew overhead, patrolling the perimeter of the park before disappearing toward the tenements. Connor reached the sidewalk and headed north. Trucks and cars passed him, their headlights bathing him in yellow light. Drones flew above the sidewalk, trailing neon advertisements on flexible LED sheets, while above them a stream of glittering gyros left the city for the suburbs. Few people walked the streets in this neighbourhood after dark. Those that did eyed him warily and kept their distance. Many of the shop fronts were empty, their windows boarded over and the graffiti of the competing gangs vying for space.

His phone buzzed - a message from Joshua.

Where did you go?

Home, replied Connor.

You won’t get the girls unless you turn up…

Connor ignored the last message. He was sick of his friends pestering and pressuring him. They were trying to involve him in their entertainment, and he appreciated it to a degree. He just wanted to do things on his terms. He opened the map application on his phone, checking how long it would take him to walk home. He had about two hours until the curfew. His route would take about two and a half if he walked. He was going to have to run to make it. Connor sighed and slipped his phone away. He started jogging, tightening the straps on his school backpack as he went so it didn’t flap around. He had always dreaded anything physically demanding. Especially sports that involved running. Perhaps it was the discomfort, or how ungainly he looked doing it.

Several blocks passed without difficulty. He was usually breathless after several hundred metres.

“Is it the Lace?” he said to himself

He sped up, pushing a little harder. His body responded without issue. Connor whipped down the sidewalk at a sprint, stopping only for the occasional pedestrian crossing. He expected to develop a stomach cramp or his lungs to give-in. His chest felt fine. In fact, he felt powerful. A smile crept across his face, impossible to ignore. He hollered and cheered, confusing those nearby.

He arrived home within an hour, walking the last few steps up to the front doors without faltering. He paused to breathe the cool night air in, marvelling at how well he felt. Future possibilities stormed through his mind. “Maybe I can get a scholarship after all” he whispered to himself as he jogged up the stairwell to his family’s apartment, navigating the flights of stairs without a problem to the sixth floor. It was an older building from before the war. While it was run-down, the occupants kept it relatively clean of rubbish and graffiti. The lifts were a different story. Some animal used it as a toilet. Connor avoided it when he could. At his door he punched in the code and slipped in, the electronic lock buzzing until it latched.

“Who’s that?” came his brother’s voice over the competing sounds of death metal and a V.R game. His younger brother was almost taller than him, a fact which annoyed Connor no end. They were complete polar opposites. Connor was slight of stature, nervous, plain and pale. Avery was solid, charming and handsome with a dark coffee complexion. They looked and acted so dissimilarly it was hard to believe they were brothers.

“Me,” replied Connor.

“Did you bring dinner?” asked Avery after a pause.

“What do you think?” said Connor, dumping his bag and coat in the hallway. He walked into the tiny lounge where his brother stood, visor over his head and plastic controllers held in his hands as he turned in a tight circle, shooting at V.R enemies. Shoot’em ups were fine, in Connor’s opinion. They all had the same government sanctioned vibe, however. As though they were still a conditioning tool to desensitise the younger players to the horrors of war. The second gen games had helped the U.S armed forces achieve a higher acceptance to kill amongst its new recruits, boosting it from below twenty percent to somewhere in the sixties for all shots fired. Guns were fun. But swords and sorcery were more satisfying, scratching that fantasy itch he’d always had after watching re-runs of the rebooted Star Wars trilogy at an impressionable age. He’d far rather swing a melee weapon in V.R, cleaving hordes of Orcs or faceless galactic grunts in twain, even if it did look dorkier to the observer.

“I think you brought me dinner,” said Avery, clicking his controller with every syllable. “Otherwise you have no excuse for being out so close to curfew.”

“I was with my friends.”

“You have friends?” asked Avery with feigned shock.

“Says he, that does nothing but play games every chance he gets,” scoffed Connor.

“I only play games when I’m home, because it beats talking to you.” Avery paused his game and tipped the visor back to look at his brother. “And what were you doing with these friends so close to curfew?”

Connor frowned. Taking drugs in a shady park like an idiot...

“Hmm?” pestered Avery.

“Just hanging out, you know.”

“I don’t… Enlighten me.”

Connor walked out of the lounge. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. I’m going to make something to eat.”

“Hook a brother up, brother,” said Avery, unpausing the game.

“As you command” sighed Connor.