The glow of red LED lights was one half of two sources bringing illumination to the otherwise dim room; the faint hum of a custom built PC tower accompanied the comfortably solemn atmosphere. Grant sat slouched in his well-used swivel chair, his body arched forward; he was immersed in the virtual depths of the internet. It had been 12 hours since he had first sat down after getting home from school; 12 hours since he had any real social interaction; 12 hours after he had to deal with the simpletons, the superficial, and the frivolous. It’s no surprise he preferred being alone.
The appeal of hacking into reputable websites and changing their information, accessing otherwise secure files, and reprogramming the layouts never seemed to lose its luster. He took another swig of his luke-warm root beer and sat it back onto his cluttered desk. "done." he uttered, after a symphony of keyboard strokes. "Enter." Grant said as he simultaneously pressed the fateful key. And with that final confirmation he and he alone had scrambled the Facebook main server. It was the only thing that allowed him any sovereignty in his life, hacking.
With a sigh he leaned back into his chair, it squeaked and gave way to accompany the shift of mass. He reached his skinny wrists up into the air, overly strained almond-colored eyes closed behind his obsidian square-framed glasses. He stretched upward, yawning and shaking some of the lethargy from his body as though it were dust. "Insomnia's a real bitch." He said, getting out of his chair and walking to the bathroom to relieve his root beer filled bladder. His anemic skin caught the glow of the monitor as he left.
Upon returning he sat down again, his faithful throne whining wearily. Grant resumed his melancholy posture to better engulf himself into the digital realm. Bing! a new message on AIM. Without hesitation Grant opened the chat box.
GrayRay:" Did you HAVE to crash facebook tonight? Some of us have statuses to update you know.>:P"
Grant chuckled, it was his best, and come to think of it, only friend Ray.
4Granted: "Of course, not like I have anything better to do." Grant responded nonchalantly.
GrayRay:"Nothing to do eh? I got something you'd do better to occupy your time with. lol"
GrayRay:"Unless you prefer to waste all that black-hat talent crashing social networking sites."
4Granted:"I'm intrigued, :]"
GrayRay:" Meet me at the corner of 5th and Dupont, 10 mins."
4Granted:"wait!"
"GrayRay is offline, your message will be delivered when this user returns"
"Great." Grant sighed. Ray was always up to something, and the fact that he was being broad about it means that it's something that will likely get them both into trouble. Nonetheless grant had nothing better to do. He slipped on his tattered black Converses and quietly headed out the door. The streets were silent, save for the sound of cars emerging and fading into the distance like wild animals in a suburban jungle.
Through the grimy orange attenuation of the street lights Grant made his way to Ray. Sure, the walk was troublesome, but the information would be worthwhile if Ray was meeting him at this hour. The shuffle of worn out soles on concrete carried into the night eerily; even being the intellectual he was; Grant's mind couldn't help but elaborate on all of the possible unfortunate scenarios that could befall him at this inhospitable hour. A few drawn-out minutes later, Grant reached Dupont, and sure enough Ray was there to greet him, standing covertly under the faded streetlight. "Took you long enough." Ray Scoffed, his tall frame now leaning against the light post. He unsheathed his head from the Green hoodie he was wearing, revealing his clean-faded buzz-cut and the piercing green eyes Grant had grown to recognize. "So what's this all about? I know it'd better be good." Grant said, positioning himself alongside Ray. A car weaved by them and disappeared once again into the darkness. Ray smirked; "You ever heard of project Psyphon?" he inquired, his cool tone changing to emphasize his serious attitude towards the subject. “Sounds like a liposuction procedure.” Grant responded, with deliberately bad timing. “You don’t get it huh? I thought you were smarter than that man; it’s a process in which you channel these hypothetical molecules in order to produce phenomenal results.” Ray was about to barrel into full-on lecture mode; Grant interrupted. “Let’s say I believe in this “spyphonic” business...what exactly is possible by harvesting these molecules?” “I’m glad you asked, bro.” Ray made a brisk movement towards grant, facing him head on. Grant was startled, but not enough to do more than widen his eyes. Ray raised his hand slowly, until it was hovering just inches away from his own temple. Ray then closed his eyes and with a certain uncanny accuracy raised his opposite hand level to Grant’s temple.
Grant was made uneasy by what was taking place. Ray was a joker, but this seemed like a little too much effort for a meek attempt at comedy. Ray took a deep breath, his eyes closed in a focused manner, and his hand began to emanate a warm and undulating tingle. “What are you-“ “shhh...” Ray said, cutting Grant off before he could break his concentration. Grant stood obediently, Feeling the ever-present tingling sensation growing more powerful. It was an odd stir, unlike any Grant had experienced before. “Do you feel that?” Ray said calmly, his tone seemed to echo and distort more than humanly possible. Grant felt it all right, if only he knew what “it” was. Grant looked at Ray, his expression more intensely focused than before; things were definitely getting weird. Something was off, Grant couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was definitely not right here. Grant calculated all that had taken place in the last 30 seconds or so; besides Ray acting like a Ms. Cleo of sorts, the new-found yet oddly pleasant sensation slowly engulfing the right side of his face or…That’s it! That was it! When Ray had spoken...His mouth stayed still! It wasn’t ventriloquism; Ray’s mouth hadn’t so much as twitched. Grant’s mind didn’t want to accept it, he was a natural skeptic, and there was absolutely no way he was going to acknowledge the fact that his friend had just spoken to him via telepathy.
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