Hello, and
welcome to the Big House© family! We are so excited that you have completed
your training and are ready to become a full-fledged Rent! The life you are
about to enter is exciting, privileged, and luxurious, and we cannot wait to
have you as one of our own! To start it off, here are a few friendly reminders before
you come to live with us.
We are very excited about this upcoming year and know that it will be the most thrilling and profitable year that we’ve ever had. Thank you for your service, and best of luck in all that you do.
Sincerely,
Ms. Jessica Lowlith, Chairman of Publicity
Prologue
By the time you read this, I will most likely be dead. Just kidding, that’s too cliché. I just wanted to get your attention. I won’t be dead, because I won’t be alive yet. But even though I won’t die, please read on. For the sake of the world. Right now, things are going pretty bad, right? Lots of murder, death, pain, prostitutes, drug lords, wars, all that fun stuff, am I right? And it seems like things are worse than they’ve ever been? Well, if you keep doing what you’re doing right now - sitting back and going along with the tide and doing absolutely nothing - it’s just gonna keep getting worse. Way worse. A hooker lying in the street half-dead from drug addiction will look more like a nun handing out flyers to a block party on the nice side of town. So please, if you read this, do something about it. I don’t know if you can stop it, but maybe knowing about it will help something. I don’t know, but the world is screwed if you keep this up. Trust me, I know about this stuff. I’m living in the hell that your generation built for me and everyone else.
Seth I never thought I’d be relieved to see the looming onyx walls of The Big House, but as the return car purred up silently to the patterned jewel doors, I was actually somewhat happy to step out and breathe the overly clean air. Moving to the driver’s side of the car, I tapped gently on the window, which hummed down, revealing a beautiful woman at the wheel.
“Thank you, Christiana,” I said politely with a smile to the lady in the front seat, the female robot that always drove me everywhere. (Yes. Robot. Nearly completely human in appearance but entirely machine. Do you even have those yet?) Most rents didn’t give their driver the time of day, but after nearly three years of service, I had taken a liking to her serious, no-nonsense manner. She met my eyes with her own calculating steel orbs and tilted her head to the side, a smile nearly touching her lips.
“You’re very welcome, Mister Seth,” she responded with a nod of the head before closing the window and flooring it, making the small, black car dart off. I let out a sigh of frustration. Mister Seth. I wished that she would just call me Seth. It made me sound important or something. I was neither used to being a celebrity nor really enjoying it. Shaking my head, I turned to walk towards the massive building, hunching my shoulders against the surprisingly sharp wind. It had been warm the day before, so I wasn’t wearing a jacket, and the wind bit at my bare arms and face.
“Sheesh,
why’d they make it so cold today?” I muttered, shoving my hands into my pockets
and hurrying to get inside. Of course, once the doors closed behind me, it was
the perfect temperature. The décor and lighting were perfect, pleasing to the
eyes and instantly calming. Everyone inside turned and said polite hellos to
me, my name included. That creeped me out. And made me feel sick, honestly. It
always did. I would probably get used to the mood-match atmosphere and the
auto-temp-adjusting, but everyone knowing my name? That would always scare me. Just
one of the many perks of being number one. I managed an awkward half-smile and
made my uncomfortable way across the lobby, finally reaching the elevator and
pressing the up button. (You do have elevators by now…right?) A few seconds
passed. I pressed it again. And again.
“Come on,
come on, come on,” I mumbled, looking
around the room and bouncing my leg slightly, wanting to get away from these
people as quickly as possible, before they tried to engage me in conversation
or something. Everyone loved to socialize, to get to know people, to flirt with
anyone they pleased, but…I was more of a loner. Probably always would be. Always
had been before this. Oh well, everyone just thought that it made me mysterious
and sexy, right? I rolled my eyes slightly and let out another short sigh of
frustration, something that was becoming almost a habit lately. Me being grumpy
and negative was not at all new, but the constant sighing and moping was a recent
development. Not entirely sure why, nothing has really changed in the past few
years. You’d think I would be used to it.
At last,
the elevator doors slid open with a comfortable ding. Hastily stepping in, I
pressed the “close doors” button over and over until the doors finally slid
together, leaving me, finally, a little more at peace. Only one more button to
press, the top floor. Floor one-hundred. The elevator immediately jumped into
motion, and I thanked no one in particular that I wasn’t scared of heights
anymore. I had gotten that vaccination years ago, so the ground disappearing
below at a dizzying speed had no effect on me. (I know you had vaccinations, at
least for diseases and all. We have them for everything now. Even fears.) The
entire thing was made of perfectly polished, no-smudge glass, even the floor.
Which was why I had to get the shot in the first place, actually. (They almost
had to sedate me the first time I went up.) It finally reached the top floor,
my floor, and I stepped out to a robotic voice saying “Good morning, Mister
Seth.” My room took up literally the entire top floor. It had taken several
months, but I had at some point come to feel at home in its enormous, spacious
rooms. It suited me to have such large and lonely quarters. It made me feel a
little more insulated and, I don’t know, safe. And so, I immediately walked in
and flopped onto the white leather couch. Taking up the entire wall opposite me
was a massive monstrosity of a television. The thought passed my mind to turn
it on, but I squelched it without a second consideration. What they showed on
the tv made me sick, and knowing my luck, I would turn it on to see one of
those horrible commercials I had been forced to record as self-advertising.
“Oh Mister
Se-eth!” a sing-songy voice called out, and I felt my headache deepen. Helen. A
small, feminine robot came rushing into the room, smiling from ear to ear, and
I almost felt a pang of regret for hating her so much. She really was sweet,
caring, energetic, and annoying as hell.
“Hello, Helen ,” I sighed, mustering up a fake smile and turning to sit up on the edge of the couch as she hurried over, grabbing my face and kissing it with her cold lips. She was like a combination of a worried girlfriend, obnoxious younger sister, and protective mother all in one. (Not that I would know what any of those are like…it’s just a guess. We aren’t allowed to know anyone that we’re related to or have relationships.)
“I swear, you look more grown up every time I see you!” she crowed in her shrill, tinny voice, pinching my cheeks. “So what’s the damage this time, kiddo?” (She was my Caretaker, a robot assigned to each of us to make sure that we look and feel our best every day for our buyers. Try saying that without gagging.) I sighed, standing up and pulling off my tight black t-shirt which she snatched up before it hit the floor, throwing me a dirty glance.
“Uh, I’ve
got a pretty mean headache coming on, I’m a little bit sore in the shoulders,
and these, of course,” I listed, gesturing to the various scars on my chest,
stomach, and back. “She had a cat fetish.” Helen pulled a disgusted face and
bustled off again, muttering to herself about “crazy kids and their
obsessions”, and I sat back down on the couch, reaching to massage my shoulder
and craning my neck to the side until it popped. Last night had been rough, but
still not my worst by far. Helen brought back in several pills, a glass of
water, and a couple of self-heal bandages, which I took and thanked her for.
“Do you need anything else, hun, or just rest?” she asked, looking concerned. I smiled at her, seeing through the irritation to how much she really did care about me. (Then again, it was what she was made to do, but whatever.)
“I’m fine,
Helen. Thank you,” I said again, earnestly, and she smiled, blowing a kiss and
darting out of the room. So much energy in such a small robot. I took the
pills, which, of course, left no bad aftertaste in my mouth, and put the small
bandages over all of my scars, which I counted to be seven. Crazy chick. There
was a slight stinging that made me wince a bit, but after five seconds, I
peeled them off. Nothing. All of the scars were completely gone. (Pretty cool,
huh? I know that you don’t have those yet. They’re pretty recent, even for us,
and they aren’t commercially available yet.) I ran my fingers over the healed
skin, my eyes drawn to the dark mark on my hipbone. My tattoo that branded me
as a rent. (Also known as “bar codes” or “price tags” by normal people who like
to make fun of us and make up so-called “funny” nicknames for things. See also;
sex toys.) You could get it wherever you wanted and incorporate it with pretty
much any other design that you wanted, but you had to have it somewhere. I
hated it more than almost anything else that tied me to this life. It was
permanently in my skin, there was nothing I could do, and frankly, it pissed me
off.
I stood up, shaking my head and stretching again, and went into the room nearest me, my bedroom. Flipping the lights on, I crossed the large, softly carpeted floor and went into the connected bathroom. A huge mirror covered most of the wall, and I stared intently into my reflection. My blazing emerald green eyes gazed back defiantly. That was the general response I got from myself by looking in the mirror. Anger. Everything about the way I looked made me angry, from my glowingly green eyes to my fair, heavily freckled skin, from my jet black hair to my facial features which everyone claimed were “pretty”. Why? Why did everyone have to like the way I looked? (I bet that sounds really strange to you, for me to be complaining about everyone thinking that I’m attractive, but…if it wasn’t for that, I could have a normal life. You know?) Taking a deep breath, I broke eye contact with myself, closing my eyes. Something was bothering me, something more than the usual hatred of my lifestyle. I needed to think. I needed to relax. I needed a shower.
Brooks What
a day. The elevator ride back up to my room seemed to take ages, and I leaned
against the glass, bouncing my leg and sighing, looking up through the clear
ceiling. It was a blustery day indeed, and I was thankful for the blue hoodie I
had thrown on before I left. The wind was sharp today, a mean thing, but I admired
the grey, rumpled clouds in the graying sky. Maybe it would rain. I hadn’t seen
rain in a while, mainly because they didn’t find any real need for it anymore.
You know, since they destroyed the last of the plants in the world. It wasn’t
“useful”. But we all sure enjoyed it. The ding of the top floor startled me out
of my rainy reverie, and I stepped out, nodding as it said “Good morning,
Mister Brooks”.
“Same to yourself, Mister Elevator,” I answered with a smile, sounding so prim and proper with my British accent. Sure, I’d been taught how to get rid of it along with the other five languages I’d learned, but keeping it gave me something special. I was different, at least slightly, from everyone else. Being from Australia and having lived in England for a while. No one really cared, though. Ah well, life goes on.
“I’m home, darling!” I called as the elevator disappeared behind me. “Don’t ignore me, love, you know I’ll find you.” Oh, Seth. My roommate. What an odd one he was.
“Brooks!” a shrill, somewhat annoying but very friendly voice called, and I smiled, turning to see Helen dash out of the kitchen.
“Helen! My goodness, I saw you just yesterday, but I’m seeing you again! How exciting!” I laughed, grabbing her in a hug and spinning her around. After setting her down, I stopped, looking around the room again.
“Oh, if you’re looking for Seth, he’s…” Helen started, but I shushed her, crouching down and giving her a wink.
“No, no, no…let me find him myself,” I whispered with a mischievous grin, and she giggled, nodding. I sneaked around the corner like some sort of sexy panther and heard a vague sound in the background, something rather like a raccoon going through a wood chipper, and became very confused and somewhat frightened.
“What in bloody hell is that noise?” I asked myself, stifling a giggle and slipping into Seth’s room. “It seems to be coming from the bathroom…hm…what a mystery…” The noise continued, evolving into more of a beaver under a belt sander, or perhaps a wildcat under a car tire. Very similar, you know. I walked into the bathroom, just getting more and more befuddled by it all as the noise got louder and louder, and pressed the green button that opens up the shower. And then quickly pressed the red one to close it.
“My God, I come in and I hear this terrifying sound like a…like a…yak giving birth and then I innocently open the shower and there’s Seth! Showering! And doing something that I believe was supposed to be singing!” I cried, draping myself dramatically against the wall next to the shower. “I do believe I’m scarred for the rest of my life, Seth. Blinded, even. Oh no…I see the light…ah, it’s only the lamp over the mirror. False alarm, false alarm.” There was a long silence after that, nothing but the sound of my fading chuckles and the water rushing out of the showerhead. Pity, I had hoped he would continue singing.
“What are you doing showering at a time like this anyways?” I asked, opening the shower again to look at him inquisitively, and he flat out punched me in the face, the lout. “Oy! No need for violence! Not like I haven’t seen you naked before, mate.” I looked in the mirror, scrunching up my nose and furrowing my eyebrows. Bloody hell, that hurt. My bright blue eyes, staring back at me in the mirror from out of my tan skin and mess of blonde hair, stung at the sharp pain, and I cleared my throat.
“Well, if
you broke my pretty face, you’re gonna have hell to pay, and not even pay to me”
I chuckled, and he muttered something probably quite rude under his breath and
turned the shower off. “Oh wait, you’re the pretty one. Right.” And the shower hummed
open, only this time Seth had a towel on, thank God.
“I could actually break your face, you know,” he said flatly, raising an eyebrow, and I beamed at him. Oh, Seth. He was such a grump sometimes.
“And there’s my little sunshine!” I responded brightly, grabbing his face and smiling. “There’s my little pretty boy! Oh goodness, don’t frown like that, you look awful.” He looked ridiculous, face all squished up like that between my hands, but he still managed to glare at me. And I just smiled.
“Now go put some clothes on, love, no one wants to see that,” I said, turning him around, pushing him out of the room, and slapping his butt on the way out. “Go on, then! Out!” Oh, he was pissed. I laughed to myself, reveling in what a wonderful job I had, getting to torment Seth all the time. It was a dream come true, really. And no, neither of us are gay, in case you’re wondering. We’re just confident enough in our sexuality to mostly not care about anything. Besides, we lost all sense of awkwardness when we became rents. They just about beat that out of you. Oh God, pardon that turn of phrase. We had also been roommates for bordering on two years, so we were pretty tight friends. At least I like to think so. You never really know with Seth.
“If I make some coffee, would you drink some?” I called over my shoulder as I left the room, nodding as I heard his response. “Alright, it’ll be done in a jiff.” Of course it wasn’t me who made the coffee. Helen took over that for me, the little darling, and within five minutes, I had a piping hot cup of coffee and a smile on my face. As if that was a rare occurrence anyways. Seth deals with the bad business of life with harsh, blunt sarcasm. I deal with smiles. Ah, to each his own. It was all fun and games until someone got hurt, really, and I began to worry that I really had bothered Seth. And so, when he walked in, black v-neck and jeans and all, there was a big mug of black coffee, the way we both took it, and a bowl of perfectly ripe cherries on the counter. His eyes landed on the bowl and he raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking up at me. I shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee.
“A little apology for being irritating, I suppose. Felt the need,” I said dismissively, taking another gulp. “Don’t worry about it, no need to thank me.” This meant a lot to Seth, you see, because he is obsessed with cherries. Honestly, there’s no other word for it besides maybe fetish, but that’s getting into some weird territory there. No jokes intended, no weird insinuations, he just loves them, alright? Accept it. He plucked a lovely looking one out of the bunch, and I gestured for a toast with my mug.
“What for?” he snorted, raising an eyebrow, and I thought for a moment. Hm. It really was quite a question, given our circumstances.
“Oh, you know, life and all,” I said with a shrug. “Whether we know it or not, we still have things to be thankful for, mate.” He looked at me for a moment, then nodded and bumped my glass with his cherry before popping it into his mouth. I nodded as well, smiling and taking a large drink of the hot liquid. Got to count your blessings, you know.
Seth Brooks. I
was so glad to have chosen him as my roommate. Even though I wanted to kick him
in the ‘nads sometimes. (But, you know. Occupational hazard. Don’t want to ruin
his whole career with one swift kick, now do we?) He was actually number four
out of the top ten, and the number one is sort of supposed to room with number
two. But, if we’re gonna be honest, the higher-ups in this business fall over
themselves to make me happy. I have them trained at the snap of my fingers. It
kind of disgusts me, but at the same time, it let me have Brooks as my roommate
among many other perks so I don’t really mind. For instance, I don’t actually
receive any of my disgustingly massive salary. Being paid to do what I do is
probably the most repulsive thing I’ve ever heard of, so I just let the
higher-ups keep it in their big community bank that has enough money to put
everyone in the world into an upper middle-class home for life. In return, if I
ever need money, I can just draw right out of their funds. Bam, endless money
for when I actually need it. (A.K.A. doing things that I’m completely not
allowed to do. Like buying a car. But that story is for another time.) So I
suppose being teacher’s pet isn’t so bad.
Brooks and I finished our coffee, talked, and relaxed for a while, the comfortable haze of afternoon settling in unassumingly. A glance over the rim of my mug at the clock revealed that it was almost 5:00, about the usual time that Brooks and I checked our call schedules. I bumped him with my shoulder and gestured towards the clock, and he let out a small noise of surprise, setting down his mug.
“Well alright then, back to business,” he declared with a nod to me, walking out of the kitchen. I clutched my mug, staring into the deep brown liquid absentmindedly. I did not want to go back to work. How could I put it off? Was there any way? Maybe I could “accidentally” hurt myself. Nah, they’d still make me go.
“You coming, mate?” Brooks called from the living room. “I’ve got your computer running!” With a deep sigh, I emptied the remains of my coffee into the sink and left, passing Helen on her way to cleaning the kitchen. When I sat on the couch next to Brooks, he passed me my already booted-up laptop. A quick scan of the fingerprints and I was logged in. The homepage of The Big House automatically opened up
Hello, Mister Seth!
Schedule for Friday:
None *
*Don’t forget to report to Dance Hall #3 for reevaluation tomorrow
“That’s right,” I mumbled out loud, but mostly to myself. “We have eval tomorrow. I completely forgot.” With one last dirty look, I closed the browser, revealing my preset wallpaper of the Big House symbol, thus drawing another dirty look.
“You
forgot?” Brooks laughed, closing out his own page. “How could you forget? You
hate eval!” Another dirty look, this time directed at Brooks’ stupid beaming
face.
“Oh ha ha, funny,” I mock-smiled back at him, closing my laptop with a click and standing up. “At least we have the night off.” Brooks kicked his feet up on the couch, still smiling at me.
“Oy, was that something positive I just heard from your mouth, Seth?” he asked, lightly kicking me in the leg. “Good for you, you’re learning!” He gave me yet another sappy-sweet smile, and I just shook my head.
“I’m done with you. Done,” I said plainly, walking out of the room despite his laughing protests. A good night’s sleep. That’s all that I was thinking about. No stranger’s beds, no strange bedmates. Damn I was going to get a good night’s sleep.
Seth I never got
tired of this game. Every time Brooks and I had a morning off, after we had
eaten and were about to get dressed and ready for the day and all, we would
brush our teeth like any other normal people. But every morning without fail,
Brooks would try and talk to me while he was brushing his teeth, and I could
never understand a word that he was saying. It usually resulted in me narrowly
missing the sink because he would make me laugh before I had the chance to
spit.
I looked back at my reflection in the mirror, brushing my teeth, thinking about nothing in particular. I had a strange sense of freedom and a rare good mood lifting me up a little, since we had basically the whole day to ourselves until eval. Maybe Brooks’ positivity was finally rubbing off on me.
“Scho sheriouschly, wha’re oo gdoin toay?” Brooks said, or something like said, if you could call that talking, and I slowly turned, looking at him in obvious confusion. “Kchus ah hcink ahm gckohn gu phor a ruh.” He stopped to spit, then looking at me with a shrug. “If you wanna come, I mean.” I narrowed my eyes, holding back a smirk, but finally gave in, leaning to spit in to the sink and laugh.
“Alright, care to say that again in a language other than Yiddish?” I asked with a laugh as I rinsed off my toothbrush, and he laughed with me, shoving me a little with his shoulder.
“Oh, oh, alright, Mr. Wise-Arse,” he said, suddenly putting on a peculiar, uppity, snooty face and lifting his hand in some odd gesture of poise. “Aimeriez-vous aller courir avec moi, vous devez faire face stupide chien laid?” I scoffed, bringing my hand to my chest in mock-offense and making a face of similar ridiculous properness.
“Mon bon monsieur, comment osez-vous me parler comme ça?” I gasped,
puffing out my chest and squaring off to him. “Ce ne peut être résolu par un combat à mort!” Brooks cut the act and
busted out laughing, supporting himself on the counter. (If you can’t tell by
now, we’re both fluent in French. The top rents have to be fluent in a lot of
languages, actually, considering all of the people we can be rented by. I
myself am fluent in English, Spanish, French, Mandarin, Russian, Italian, and
almost German. I’m working on it. Brooks is the same but speaks German far
better than I do.)
“We are both such idiots sometimes, you know that?” he laughed, letting out an amused sigh and turning to the mirror. “A couple of damned attractive idiots, though, if I do say so myself.” I chuckled and looked in the mirror with him. We were nearly polar opposites, really, me with my fair skin, he with his bronzed skin, me with my dark hair, he with his blonde hair. Green eyes and blue eyes aren’t really opposites though, more like cousins. That’s what I like to think anyways. We were both muscular, of course, we’d be out of a job otherwise, but I was more lean and cut, he was more built and bigger than me. And stronger. And would never let me forget it. And I had my rent tattoo on my hip, his was on his back along with a pair of wings. We were very different, but we got along very well most of the time.
“So are you
gonna come running, or what?” Brooks asked as he walked out of the bathroom to
get dressed, and I stifled a yawn, stretching and rubbing my hands over my
face. It would probably be good for me to get out of this place and get a
little exercise.
“I dunno,
man, do you want me to come?” I called, and I heard him rummaging through his
closet.
“Well, yes, I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise,” he called back with a laugh, and I leaned over the sink and splashed some water on my face. Part of me wanted to just stay here and laze around in bed doing nothing, so I killed that part with a splash of water to wake me up.
“Yeah okay, I’ll come,” I said, walking into the bedroom to get dressed and attempt to not think about eval. I had all day to relax. Don’t ruin it with worry. Just enjoy it.
(Alright. Hopefully this is the last big edit of these chapters (what is this, the fourth time?) and I can move on to the next ones. Thank you so much for reading, as always.)