Novels by ATTAR

The neon "Electric Palace" sign flickered above them, casting a rhythmic, artificial heartbeat of pink light over the alleyway. Brad hadn't even made it to the end of the block before he skidded to a halt, realizing the alarm had cut off as abruptly as it started. He turned back, his chest heaving under the varsity leather, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated meathead fury."You think that’s funny, Mahesa?" Brad roared, stomping back toward the bench where Jovan and Camille sat. "You think you can play games with my car? That’s a classic! That’s more than you’ll ever make in your entire life!"Jovan didn't even stand up at first. He just leaned back, clicking his soda tab open with a nonchalant hiss. "It’s a 2012 Mustang, Brad. It’s not a 'classic.' It’s the vehicular equivalent of a gym selfie. It’s trying way too hard and ultimately failing to deliver on its promises."Brad stopped three feet away, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. "What did you just say to me?

The "Electric Palace" arcade smelled exactly how Jovan remembered the year 2014: a heady cocktail of ozone, overpriced popcorn, and the collective sweat of fifty teenagers trying to prove their worth via plastic peripherals. Neon lights pulsed against the dim interior, casting flickering hues of magenta and cyan over Camille’s face as she led him toward the back of the room."You look like you're walking toward your execution, Jovan," Camille teased, glancing over her shoulder. "Scared of a little plastic floor mat?""It’s not the mat I’m afraid of," Jovan said, dodging a group of middle schoolers sprinting toward the prize counter. "It’s the sheer weight of my own impending greatness. It can be a heavy burden to carry.""Your 'greatness' just lost eight hundred dollars on a toy company that makes plastic bearings," Toby muttered, appearing at Jovan’s elbow like a specter of financial doom. "I’m just here to make sure you don't bet your shoes on a game of Skee-Ball.""Have a little fa

"The CEO of what, exactly? Managing the local Chuck E. Cheese?"Leo’s voice was dry, cutting through Jovan’s moment of triumph like a rusty blade. He was still standing behind Jovan, arms crossed over his neon-green hoodie, looking at his friend with a mixture of pity and genuine concern for his mental health."The CEO of everything, Leo," Jovan said, his eyes still fixed on the complex math he’d scrawled on the board. "The king of the new world. The architect of the timeline. Also, do you have twenty bucks I can borrow?""And there it is," Toby chimed in, leaning against a lab table. He adjusted his thick glasses, the fluorescent lights reflecting off the lenses. "The 'CEO' needs a micro-loan for a sandwich. Truly, a titan of industry.""It’s not for a sandwich, Toby! It’s for capital," Jovan hissed, grabbing his backpack. "I have exactly eight hundred dollars in my savings account from that summer I spent mowing lawns and pretending to understand my dad’s plumbing business. In 2014,

Jovan winced as his iPhone 5 buzzed again in his hand. “Uh... that’s a long story. Let’s just say, the future is still buffering.”Camille arched an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between the wet English essays and the phone screen. "Buffering? Is that what we're calling your brain today? Because honestly, Jovan, I'm starting to think you didn't just have too much coffee. I think you might actually be losing it.""Losing it is a strong term," Jovan said, quickly shoving the phone into his pocket. "I prefer the term 'undergoing a radical system update.' Besides, Leo’s just dramatic. He thinks every Tuesday is the end of the world.""Well, speaking of the end of the world," Camille said, pointing a soggy finger toward the library clock, "we have Physics in five minutes. And unless you want Henderson to actually follow through on that suspension, we should probably get to the lab.""Physics," Jovan groaned, the weight of his 2024 engineering degree pressing against the back of his skull. "

"Perfect," Jovan grinned, feeling the weight of the five-dollar bill and the crumpled taco coupon like they were bars of solid bullion. "That’s basically a seed round. Let’s go. Honestly, Camille, you’ve got better instincts than half the venture capitalists I know."Camille let out a light, melodic laugh as they navigated the concrete path leading away from the school’s main entrance. "Venture capitalists? Jovan, we’re in high school. The only 'capital' anyone around here cares about is how many followers they have on Instagram.""Instagram," Jovan whispered the word like a prayer. "Right. It’s still just square photos of lattes and bad filters. No Reels yet. No algorithmic doom-scrolling. It’s a simpler time.""What are you talking about? And where are we going? You said you had to explain the digital gold thing.""Library," Jovan said, pointing toward the brick building at the center of the quad. "It’s quiet. We can strategize. Plus, I think I left my... uh, my soul in there during

Jovan watched Camille’s denim jacket disappear around the corner of the hallway, the scent of vanilla lingering in the air like a taunt from the universe. His heart was still hammering a rhythm that felt far too fast for an eighteen-year-old’s chest, or maybe it was just the caffeine of a decade’s worth of regrets hitting him all at once."Earth to Jovan? You still vibrating, or did you finally glitch out?"Jovan turned to see Leo and a lanky kid with thick glasses named Toby leaning against the classroom doorframe. They were staring at him with a mixture of pity and genuine concern. Toby was adjusting his glasses, looking like he’d just witnessed a public execution."I’m not vibrating, Leo," Jovan said, his voice steadier than he felt. "I’m manifesting. There’s a difference.""Manifesting?" Toby snorted, hiking his backpack higher. "Is that what we’re calling a mental breakdown these days? Because you just told Henderson his class is a 'squiggly line' convention and then screamed abo