From a distance, Arenya sure looked Futurist. Futurist flags in glorious royal blue deck every lamppost, bench, street sign. . . It's almost like being home.

'Thank you, somewhere normal!' I drop down from Henry's back with a plop, waiting as Kass and Sammi stagger after me into Arenya's town centre. It's heaving, everyone bustling around the busy market; I sniff the air, tapping Henry in excitement. 'Look, buddy, check it out! I smell food!'

'Is that all you care about?'

Kass is scowling at me; for a moment I feel chastised. But then, my belly rumbles, and all shame vanishes.

'Ah, stop being so grumpy,' I laugh. 'Come on, let's explore.'

But I'm quickly disappointed. Arenya is nothing like Singavere, for all it clearly supports FUTURE; no internal climate, no AI vendors, no drone domes. And whilst maybe people don't dress quite as trampy as Kass, I'm not expecting everyone to be wearing thin, flowing veils, the men and women alike.

But I mean, I totally got why. Arenya is infested with flies.

'Ugh.' I wrinkle my nose when we reach the food stalls; chunks of meat, not even a dozen, are coated in a seamless, shifting layer of flies. All squirming and buzzing as they crawl over each other. The hum alone is maddening. 'That's disgusting.'

'Haven't you ever seen flies before?' Sammi exclaims, batting a swarm away from her face.

'They must be attracted to the food,' Kass says flatly. 'Why are they keeping steaks out in the sun like this? It's like asking for disease.'

I follow his gaze to the Arenyans, scurrying around stuffing item after item into baskets hidden under their shawls. As we continue our way through, I notice something else that's odd – we haven't seen a single house. Where the heck do these people live? All there is is this sprawling, bug-infested market.

'They need refrigeration. . .' I muse, more to myself than anything. Unfortunately, Kass hears me.

'God, you're such a snob.' He's pulled his cloak back on, hood raised, to combat the flies, but now, sweat's flooding down his forehead. 'How the heck would they afford refrigeration? Imagine how expensive it is in this heat – they probably need everything fresh.'

'Oh.' This place is such a disappointment. 'I guess I just assumed. . . it's so obviously Futurist. . .'

'Yeah, well, my village supported FUTURE too, and we weren't rich. Although,' he concedes. 'We did have a fridge. Just not always enough power to work it.'

I glance at Kass. Not only is this the first thing he's said to me that isn't snarky, but it's also the first time he's mentioned his home in front of me. Sammi reaches over and squeezes his hand; something stirs in my chest and I shake my head. Just in case it was going to be painful. You know.

'Really?' I ask, as Henry perches on my head. 'I thought you hated Futurists.'

'I do. But I didn't always.'

Ah, his voice. All I want to do is listen to him talk. Maybe it's the Caeltanican accent – it's just so nice. Although, sometimes I find it hard to understand him. It is pretty strong.

'We all loved the Futurists. My friend Niven even got a scholarship to join a cadet programme in Singavere.'

'Wow.' I want to hear more but a crowd of Arenyans push in front of me, forcing Kass and Sammi deeper into the market. I fight my way through, trying not to lose them. The heat condenses everyone into a wave of sweat; as I duck under someone's arm, my stomach heaves, all thoughts of hunger forgotten. The stench – this place is definitely not Futurist.

'One hour 'til curfew!' A market-seller cries, and the tempo increases as everyone starts scrabbling at each others' backs in their haste to grab every morsel possible.

'What happens after curfew?' I manage to ask a woman by the vegetables.

'Storms, you idiot,' Kass butts in. 'Seriously, it's like you don't know anything.'

'Oh no, dear, not storms,' the woman says. Her face is completely obscured by the veil. 'Quakes, usually, and tsunamis from the Coral Sea. That's why it's so busy today. We can't risk building permanent shops, or we'd lose everything in the quakes. These stalls are only temporary, so we have to stock up quick when they appear else we'd have nothing to take back down.'

My eyes widen. 'Down where?'

'Below ground. Where we live.'

'Gosh,' Sammi says. 'So, where does the food come from?'

'General Jinaka, of course! He always makes sure we get a fresh delivery the moment it's safe. He always sees us right.'

'Sure, he does,' Kass mutters.

His dark, intense eyebrows furrow as he glares at the poor woman. He just – he's just so odd. Just imagining what Quail would think of him – I can't help chuckling to myself. He'd find Kass hideous, dressed like a peasant in that moth-eaten cloak, all covered in freckles and scars from the rain. . .

But I don't. He's talking in earnest with the woman, but I'm no longer listening. There's just something about him. Something more than guys like Quail and girls like Dove. Thinking of Dove – my chest pinches painfully, but I shake it away. Kass' eyes. They've seen things, you know? Real things. He scowls at me, and I wonder how many freckles he has on his scrunched-up nose. . .

'What are you staring at?'

I chew my fingernail, my cheeks going red. He's really glaring. Is this how it feels to be hated? No one's ever hated me before. Well, no, that's a lie, I guess plenty of my clients had, but that was more just hating on life and bad luck. Kass seems to really hate me, the real me inside.

It hurts.

Rolling his eyes, Kass turns away and coughs. He does that a lot. This time, it's bad – his chest seizes up, and his whole frame shudders. He places a hand on his chest, like he's trying to hold himself together. And then it's over – wiping his mouth on his sleeve, his eyes flick back to me.

'Quit it.'

'Sorry.' I shuffle my feet, my face glowing even hotter. 'Sorry.'

Sammi huffs, nudging Kass in the ribs.

'What?'

'Stop being such a jerk!'

'Alright, already.' Reluctantly, he twitches his shoulders at me. 'S'ok. I'm being a dick. Sorry.'

'Finally!' Sammi throws her arms up.

'You're sorry? Really?'

Kass scowls. 'God, you're so annoying. Why do you have to be so sincere all the time?'

'I can't help it.'

'Well, stop. It's annoying.'

'I'll try not to be annoying.'

'Ugh, you're doing it again.'

'Sorry.'

Kass sigh. 'I guess I just assumed, you know, that you're Futurist too. But I guess that's not fair. Just 'cause you're Singaverean, doesn't mean you're with FUTURE.'

I blink. 'But, I am. Singaverean and Futurist, I mean. I'm proud of it.'

'You're proud to be part of a murdering cult?' Kass' eyes flash, dark and dangerous. 'FUTURE murdered everybody I loved. And you're saying you're proud to be part of that?'

'No!'

'I think maybe you should shut up now, Rai,' Sammi says, quietly.

'No.' I look down and bite my lip. A sheath of water slithers over my hands before I even realise what I'm doing, like my powers are instinctively trying to protect me. Before the others notice, I retract it, soaking it back into my skin. Dr Keller can't find out.

'But you just said –,'

'I know what I said,' I mumble. 'But you don't understand. Not all Futurists are bad, okay? The best people I know are Futurist; Dove, my Guild-Master, Auden, Quail. They're kind, and hard-working, and they wouldn't hurt anyone. You're just seeing the worst and judging us all by their crappy standards. I believe in FUTURE. I believe there's a better life ahead of us than the one we've left behind. If that means relocating, why's that so wrong?'

'Don't you want us to succeed?' Sammi's fingers tentatively coil around my wrist, but I pull back, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

'I don't know. I want. . . I want everybody to be relocated, not just the rich. If that means fighting for that future for everyone. . . then I guess I'm on board? But, don't tell me I'm bad for being Futurist. I'm bad for many reasons, but that isn't one.'

Kass and Sammi exchange a look, full of silent words. That I'll never be a part of.

'You know of anywhere we can stay tonight?' Kass turns back to the woman, who's been hovering beside us, wringing her hands.

'I do.' Her voice quivers – we've probably confused the hell out of her. 'There's an inn near my pod. Want me to take you there?'

'Please.'

They start pushing their way through the crowd after the woman.

'You coming?'

Kass is staring at me – I've remained rooted to the spot.

'Yeah,' I whisper. But I'm careful to keep my distance.

I know when I'm not wanted.

*

The Arenyan sunrise is harsh and deep, burning our eyes as we trek through the wreckage of the night's quake. The damage is insane, the roads covered in boulders and debris. If the market had still been here, it would be in ruins. Now, all that's left are rotten cores and bones, clusters of flies scavenging what little remains.

It doesn't take long to reach Coral-Bay. The others wanted to get out of Arenya's stench as fast as possible. As for me, well, I can fly as fast as I want on Henry's back, free from all the destruction below, drifting through amber sky and violet clouds.

Coral-Bay is nothing more than a dumping ground. A craggy hillside over looking the coast, littered with junk: overturned vans and battered hunks of machinery decades out of date. A lone building nestles into the cliff. I shout down to the others below, warning them to be cautious.

We didn't know they'd be waiting for us.

'Hey, you there!'

A young man is waving at us from a balcony. His legs dangle over the ledge as he clings on with one hand.

'Hey, can you hear me? You shouldn't be here, it's dangerous.'

I bring Henry to a stop, pausing in mid-air. I have a great view of the building now; it's a barracks. Its sandy-grey walls rise lazily to a point, giving it the look of a sunken pyramid. Cables run down from the tip over multiple layers of balconies all the way to the ground, where they're tethered in place.

The man lets go of the balcony altogether, swings like a monkey onto one of the cables and slides down, landing with an elegant roll by Kass and Sammi's feet. I fly down to join them. The man gets to his feet, dusts himself off, and flicks his hair out of his eyes with a grin.

'You three are Absolute. Certifiable. Prats.'

Sammi doesn't look impressed. 'And you must be Labelle's brother.'

'That's me, André – and aren't you lucky I am. Strolling up like that – what if someone else had seen you?'

Kass frowns. 'But Eldred said you'd meet us here.'

André snorts. 'That's all very well, but the Futurists are expecting to meet professional traders from the Ra district of Singavere.'

'What?'

'Did Eldred forget to mention that part? Typical.' André sniggers, his blonde hair twinkling in the amber haze. 'Trust Eldred to skim the details. This is a Futurist barrack, kids. Protectors of the alpha-cap, no less.' André props a hand on his hip. 'There are resisturd spies everywhere, you can't be too careful. Especially when three randoms stroll up without a care in the world. . .'

'Okay, we get it, we were careless,' Kass grumbles. 'So, what, you've infiltrated the base?'

'Commander Trojan!'

André suddenly springs into a bow; three officers, dressed in matching royal-blue uniform, are marching towards us from the barracks. He yanks Kass' cloak, forcing Kass down until his nose is inches from the ground. After a hesitant glance with Sammi, we bend our necks too.

'Good timing, Commander, I was just greeting our guests.'

'They're younger than I expected.' Commander Trojan is a formidable figure. Her strong nose, angular cheekbones and jagged chin make her look pretty severe; her hair glows a radiant shade of emerald, and when she speaks, I spot taste-sensor studs on her tongue.

'Traders get younger and younger these days,' André shrugs with an easy smile, pulling Kass upright and throwing an arm around him. 'What will it take to get someone experienced?'

'You been in the game long?' The studs flash against Trojan's teeth, giving her a slight lisp.

'Uh,' Sammi stutters.

'Sure,' I interrupt. Let's be honest, I can't leave this to Sammi and Kass. Our cover will be blown instantly.

'Who do you think is better? Ling or Dusk?'

My eyes light up – of course.

'Oh, Ling, for sure, but hey, I'm from Ra district so maybe I'm biased. Hey, Henry.' I give a shrill whistle between my teeth – Henry bursts down through the clouds, scooting to a stop in a flurry of beeps and lights. To my surprise, Trojan smiles.

'He's beautiful.'

'Thanks! I made him myself.'

Trojan's eyebrows rise. 'You made him?'

'Yeah. I trained as a mechanic in the Engineering Guild –,'

'Yeah, he's quite a pro – hence he made the transition to dealing, right, Star?' André is grinning at me far too widely – my cheeks flush as I realise. I'm enjoying the truth too much.

'Uh, exactly. Anyway, Ling is definitely the motor for you – have you tried the Ling-CHcoil5000?'

Trojan stares at me. 'No. Should we?'

'Definitely. It's the best.'

'What, better than Dusk-HybridCHcoil10?'

'Yep. Dusks may seem fancy, but it's all smoke and mirrors. No, you want something light and fast, but that can withstand a heavyweight. The Ling's your model.'

'Hmm.' Trojan purses her lips and folds her arms. 'Funny, that's what the Dusk trader from last week said too.'

'Yeah but could he back it up?' I jump onto Henry's back, and do a quick whiz around the barracks. 'See? This is a racing model, I built him for speed. So, I'd recommend the CHcoil5000 for your carriers, and even for your fighters unless you want a bit more speed to them, in which case, you could try a coil5500 like my drone here.'

Trojan nods, scratching her chin. 'André, your kid knows his stuff.'

'I told you he would.' André waggles his eyebrows at her in a creepy kind of way.

Trojan sighs. 'Enough, Labelle. Get them signed in, it's not safe for you to be lingering out here, we're due a quake tonight and it's already rumbling. Go on, move.'

Laughing, André takes me by the arm and pins it painfully to my back, shoving me forwards. 'Just keep smiling, kid,' he mutters, as Sammi and Kass hurry to catch up. 'You did really good job back there. Remember, you're a specialist, and we need a tonne of new motors.'

'Good thing I really am a drone specialist; what would you have done if I wasn't?' I hiss back, grinning weakly as André marches us closer to the barracks, Trojan and her officers bringing up the rear. 'You got seriously lucky, you know that?'

'There's no such thing as luck.'

Henry is beeping anxiously after his display, so I tuck him under my arm for safe keeping. A gaggle of soldiers are hanging out by the entrance, hanging over the railings, watching us as we approach.

'Alright, Labelle? Who've you got there?' one of them calls out, knocking back a bottle of smouldering orange liquid.

'Just motor-traders. No one that'd interest you.' André pushes me firmly in the back, and I stumble forwards, trying not to catch the soldiers' eyes. They look just like my friends back home, they could easily have worked in the guild with me. Clearly off duty, they're lounging around, drinking and chatting under the shelters, keeping their multi-coloured heads dry.

'Aw, you're mean. You always hog visitors.' The largest guy straightens up, blocking André from passing. 'Give us a turn, huh, Labelle? Stop being so greedy.'

'Yeah? What can I say, Hans, I have an appetite for newbies.'

André and Hans square off against each other, the larger man's muscles bulging and his eyes popping. A vein pulses across his forehead. Just as I can't take the tension anymore – they burst into peals of laughter.

'Ach, get on with you,' Hans claps André on the shoulder, sending him flying. 'We'll get our turn over dinner, yes?'

'I'll serve them up to you myself.' With a flamboyant bow, André leads us from his comrades, their howls of laughter ringing in our ears, down a corridor to the centre of the building.

'Sorry about that, we don't get out much.' André beckons us over to the signing-in desk, across which a guard is slumped, her head draped across the computer keyboard. 'Viktoria?' André prods the figure, but it doesn't budge. 'Oh, come on, Vik – WAKE UP.'

Viktoria's head snaps up, her neck twisting with a horrible crunch. Her jaw drops open in a yawn and I grin; it's full of coils and springs. 'Y-y-y-yeeeoooooo.'

'Oh, for god's sake.' André gives Viktoria an almighty wallop with the flat of his hand. 'Big night, last night, was it?'

'S-s-s-so big.' The droid finally slumps upright in her chair, her eyes clicking as they flick between us. 'I'm not in the mood for your nonsense.'

'Oh yeah,' André rolls his eyes. 'A hungover droid, and I'm the one with nonsense. Sign in three traders please.'

'Alright.' Viktoria stares at us. 'Under whose association do they trade with?'

'Ling's,' André lies smoothly, and it's Viktoria's turn to roll her eyes.

'Try again.'

'Er.' André looks stumped. 'Frost's?'

'Again.'

'Hang on. Dusk's.'

'Wrong.'

'It's Lingtech's Robotics, actually,' I pipe up, poking my head around André's back. 'Here, I have a prototype.' I place Henry on her desk, ignoring his reproachful flashing lights. Viktoria switches her stare to me.

'Thank you, smartass. Ruining my fun.' Her hand lurches up and stamps me right in the middle of my forehead. 'Enjoy your stay, Rai from LingTech's Robotics.'

'How do you know my name?' I ask, ruefully rubbing my forehead as Kass and Sammi dutifully hold out their hands. The droid blinks.

'I scanned your reti-chip. Not such a smartass, after all.'

'Oh.' Damn. If she can read my chip. . . I glance up at André. He's frozen, lanyards swinging from his hand.

'So. . .' He hesitates, draping a lanyard around Kass' neck. 'Are we free to go?'

'I don't ask questions, you know that.' Viktoria slumps back down against the table-top. 'Droids don't take sides. As long as no one asks anything, what do I care.'

André pauses, then grins. 'Thanks, Vik. Come on, you lot, let's get you upstairs, we've got a lot to talk about.'

'Careful, André,' Viktoria calls out as André leads us to the lift. 'If I'm asked, I won't lie, either.'

'Got it,' André mutters under his breath as the lift opens with a ping, pushing us all in together. 'Droids are tricky bastards, you have to watch your step. Anyway, I don't have much time to explain things, so let's stay in here until you think you understand.' He prods all the buttons and we start to rise.

'What,' Kass frowns. 'Just going up and down in the lift?'

'Nowhere else is exactly private.' We've apparently left jokey André back in the lobby – this André is biting his lip, a hand scratching through his hair. 'Right. The hotspot triggers every evening after curfew; we won't have a chance of getting there before sundown, it's too heavily guarded. But once it's triggered, the guards duck down into an underground bunker for their own safety. It wouldn't even occur to them that anyone would attack the capsule during the tremors. So, once they've clocked off, that will be our chance.'

'Our chance?' Sammi says. 'But won't that blow your cover?'

André chuckles. 'I won't need to be here after this Mission, success or failure. If we fail, they'll shoot me on the spot. If we succeed, we're heading back to base. It would be great to see Fabien again, I've really missed him.'

'Fabien?'

'My brother. Anyway. The hotspot is about half a mile away from here, with the guard post about half-way. Once we pass the bunker, we'll set off their alarm system, and they'll do two things. First, they'll send armed officers, trained for this type of thing, after us. Luckily for us, whilst they are well-trained, they've never actually dealt with any confrontations before, let alone anyone with your abilities. That, plus the weather, will work in our favour.

'Second – they'll call here for backup. As many as fifty soldiers will come after you, with only me standing between you. But you don't need to worry about any of that – your objective is simply to find the capsule and destroy it. Then we'll use this.' André withdraws a small orb, barely bigger than a marble, from his pocket.

'What is it?' Sammi asks.

'A temporary wormhole.'

'Woah.' I peer closer – I've heard of these, but they're super rare, and super dangerous. 'How the hell did you get hold of one of those?'

'Fabien made it. You'll get one per mission, which you'll use to escape. I'll keep a hold of it for now, though, tricky little bugger.'

I stare at it, a little awe-struck. Wormholes literally tear through space and time – they aren't something you mess around with. Temporary wormholes are incredibly unstable, and people have been known to disappear through them and never return. They're extremely strictly monitored; in fact, the one André's holding must be highly illegal. But – what am I saying – this whole operation is highly illegal. We're about to commit treason.

Kass is twisting his hands together. 'So, what do we do if the guards catch us?'

'Just focus on the capsule, I'll worry about the guards.'

Just then, someone starts hammering on the lift door. 'Whoever keeps going up and down in there, will you get the hell out already? I'm dying for a piss here!'

André chuckles. 'Oh yeah, forgot to mention – half the toilets here are bust. Sorry, Maxwell.' He presses a button and the lift pings open onto the third floor where a guy is hopping from foot to foot.

'Move it!'

The soldier shoves us out of the way and dives into the lift. André sniggers to himself. But I can't see the joke. Neither can Sammi or Kass, their faces pale and tense mirror-images of each other.

I wonder if that's how I look too.

*

André shuts us away in his room and disappears for hours, leaving us with only the vague explanation of he's 'sorting stuff'. It's impossible to relax, just sitting here. With no idea what to expect.

Sammi sits André's bed, swinging her legs as she watches Kass pace around the room like a moody cat stalking invisible prey. 'Well, at least we know we're dealing with a quake and a tsunami – the two of you should be able to deal with those, right?'

'How?' Kass demands, as he trudges back and forth, back and forth. 'This is bloody ridiculous – most I've done is punch a wall and break some ice. How the hell am I supposed to stop a bloody earthquake? We should have had time to practise, dammit.'

'I mean, yeah it will be hard, but your instincts should just take over,' I say, wincing under the furious glare Kass throws me. 'I can use Henry to fly above the waves; if I raise them, or split them, maybe I can give you a chance to get to the capsule, Sammi.'

'Yeah, I guess.' Sammi fiddles with the ends of her hair, avoiding our eyes.

'But once the guards attack us, we won't stand a chance!' Kass says. Sammi's eyes narrow.

'Not if you think like that, no.'

'Well, how am I supposed to think?! André reckons he can take on the whole bloody squad single handed!'

'Well, he's the one that knows this place, if anyone can do it, he can.'

'Oh yeah, sure, you're so bloody naïve –,'

Their bickering rages back and forth endlessly; I lie down on André's bunk-mate's bed, staring up at the ceiling. Henry settles on my chest, and the whirr of his motor soothes my heart, a gentle purr; I give myself up to my headphones, letting the music take me away.

What would you like to listen to? My headphones trill in my ear.

Surprise me, I think back.

. . . The lake is cold, and the moon, it is crying, crying. . . The trees, they glare, down at my reflection as they. . .

'Rai?'

Stare, that's my face, my disgrace there in the water's border –

'Rai. . .'

I see every line, every sign, of what I try to hide. . .

'RAI!'

I jump – Kass is kneeling on the bed bent over me, half quizzical, half-annoyed.

'What?' I blink up at him.

'You're ignoring us.'

'Oh, sorry. I couldn't hear you.' I gesture to the chip on my tragus, and sit up. 'It's my headphone, see? I was listening to music.'

'At a time like this?' Kass wears his disapproval all over his face.

'Sure. There's music for every time.'

'Not Futurist music there isn't.' Sammi joins us on the bed with a half-smile. She looks exhausted, and so does Kass – I guess their argument finally ran out of steam. 'Boom, crash, el-ect-tronic noiiiiiseeee –,'

'Yeah, but I listen to old stuff, real music,' I grin, plucking the chip from my ear. 'Want to listen?'

'Okay.' She sighs, letting me tuck her hair behind her ear and fit it in for her. 'It's not like we're about to try and save the world, or anything. What better time to try out headphones – ohh.'

Her whole face lights up. 'It's – it's –,'

'Great, huh?' I smile, sitting back on my haunches next to Kass. He watches us, a peculiar expression on his face. 'You want to try too?' I ask him.

'No.' He shakes his head, but continues to watch at me. He seems to be wrestling with some sort of internal conflict. Eventually, he can't hold it in any longer. 'Sorry, but what are those things on the back of your neck? I've been meaning to ask, but it never seemed a good time. . .'

'What, these?' I finger the two flat, circular pads attached to the back of my neck. 'They're emotion-filters. They regulate your emotions for you.'

'They what?'

'Er, yeah, what I said really.' I shuffle, feeling uncomfortable, struggling to suppress the urge to use the pads here and now. 'Everyone my age has them, we get them inserted as kids. You activate them by shaking your head.' I demonstrate as Kass' eyes bulge, shaking my head hard and feeling the immediate rush of calmness and peace that I've come to expect. 'They release hormones into your blood stream, endorphins, serotonin, dopamine, that sort of thing –,'

'That's crazy.' Kass peers around at the back of my neck, and I can feel it flushing hot. 'What, so Futurists all go around in a daze then? How do you ever feel stuff?'

'Well, that's the point. It's to stop you feeling stuff you don't want to feel. But your body adjusts to it over time, so you have to keep raising your dose. I should probably upgrade soon.'

'Damn.'

'You wanna try it?'

Kass blinks, curling his legs up underneath him and twiddling his fingers, like when a kid knows something is wrong but wants to do it anyway. 'How?'

'Come here.' I beckon him forwards, and he shuffles closer, so close that I could count his freckles. I mean, if I wanted to. Slowly, my fingers shaking – should I be doing this? – I reach for the pads on the back of my neck and pull.

They peel off in one gentle tug – without giving Kass the opportunity to hesitate, I stick them to the back of his neck and press down hard. They sucker into place.

'Feel anything?'

Kass' eyes widen instantly – his usual jagged wheeze quickening – and then – it's like someone switched on the light.

'Oh. . . my. . . GOD.'

Kass slips on the bed-sheets as he scrambles to his feet. 'Sammi, you HAVE to try this, this is insane!' He begins to laugh, throwing his head back in the most un-Kass-like manner.

'Kass? What are you doing?' Sammi removes the headphone from her ear and her jaw drops. Kass is now literally howling in front of her, beating his fist on the floor in hysterics. 'Woah, what's going on?'

'I'VE NEVER FELT SO GODDAMN GOOD BEFORE!'

'Rai? Rai?'

Something is wrong. My fingers tremble – the room starts to spin –

Thud. . . My heart pounds in my ears. . .

Someone is shaking me. Sammi –

'SAMMI YOU HAVE TO TRY THIS IT'S THE BEST FEELING IN THE GODDAMN WORLD –,'

'Kass, shut up. Something's wrong with Rai –,'

Something's wrong with me? I look at her, and I look at Kass –

Then I crumple to the floor.