I should have known today was going to be garbage the second my shoelace snapped.I was crouched on the curb outside Titan Gym, trying to knot the frayed end back together, when a familiar voice cut through the chatter of afternoon traffic.“Well, if it isn’t Evan the Errand Boy.”I didn’t even have to look up to see Marcus Hale, my personal middle-school nightmare in adult, protein-powdered form. The guy had been bench-pressing my dignity since we were twelve. Now he owned Titan Gym and apparently a whole new collection of smug expressions.I stood slowly, clutching the cardboard drink tray with four lattes that were not mine. “Marcus,” I said, aiming for casual. It came out somewhere between a cough and a mouse squeak.He gave me a once-over. “Still running deliveries? Man, I thought you’d have upgraded by now.”A couple of his gym bros loitered behind him, arms folded to make their biceps look like small planets.The gym’s glass door swung open, letting out two guys in matching co

The next day, I was standing barefoot on the mats in Jade’s rented dojo space, already regretting every life choice that had brought me here. The place smelled faintly of sweat and disinfectant, the kind of combination that told you things happened here that left stains.I tugged at the waistband of the borrowed dojo shorts, already regretting not bringing my own. The mats felt strange under my bare feet, too soft to trust, too firm to relax on.Last night I spent an hour online searching “how to spar without dying,” which had only produced videos of people getting knocked out in slow motion. Now here I was, voluntarily in a place where people hit each other for fun. Clearly, I had lost my mind.Jade stood across from me, hands on hips, her black tank top and training shorts making it abundantly clear her legs could probably kick me into orbit. She tilted her head, giving me the kind of once-over you give a questionable Craigslist purchase.“You sure about this?” she asked.“Nope.”Sh

We both listened to someone down the hall drop something heavy, followed by an apology in German and a door slam in French.I risked it. “So… what’s a capture card? For capturing… cards?”She blinked slowly. “It’s for ingesting video. PCIe. Bypass OS-level bottlenecks. Hardware encode.”“Right, right. I totally knew all of those words separately.”“You can go,” she said. “Thanks for not… porch pirating.”“Anytime,” I said. “Preferably after the elevator is fixed.”Her gaze narrowed. “You used to be a delivery driver.”“Yeah. Fired yesterday. I mouthed off to someone with neck muscles.”“Mm.”“Now I freelance as a box mule. Startup idea: Mule+. We carry, we complain, we cry.”“You’d need funding.”“I’ll raise a sob seed round.”That ghost of a smile tugged again. It slipped away just as fast.The chain didn’t move. The door didn’t open wider. She wasn’t inviting me in. She wasn’t going to. Fine. I wasn’t ready for “inside” anyway.“Okay, I’ll—”“Wait,” she said. “Does your unit’s route

I was lacing up my sneakers, mentally preparing for Jade's hold pads session, when my phone buzzed at 5:47 PM.Jade: Can't do pads today. Hospital.I stared at the message. No explanation. No details. Just... hospital.My first instinct was to text back something safe like "Hope everything's okay" and pretend I had fulfilled my social obligation. Classic Evan move. Send thoughts and prayers from a safe distance.[RSN with Jade at risk. Decay acceleration detected.]"What does that mean?" I muttered.[Emotional distance during crisis = Link degradation.]I grabbed my keys.The hospital lobby smelled like disinfectant and stress. I found Jade in the waiting area, still in her training gear from yesterday, arms crossed, staring at the floor like she could drill holes through it with pure intensity."Hey," I said, dropping into the plastic chair next to her.She glanced up. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but her jaw was set in that stubborn line I was starting to recognize."What are you doing

I showed up at Clara's door at 2:47 AM with two coffees and a bag of convenience store donuts.I knocked twice.The camera clicked. The door cracked its usual two centimeters, chain still on.One gray eye appeared in the gap. "Password.""I brought caffeine."The chain slid free, and the door opened.I stepped inside and immediately understood why Clara never invited anyone in.Her apartment looked like a hacker's wet dream crossed with a NASA control room. Three monitors mounted on the wall, two laptops open on the desk, cables snaking everywhere like spaghetti.Clara herself was in an oversized hoodie that said "sudo make me a sandwich" and shorts that were... short. Very short. The kind that made my brain briefly forget how to form sentences.She caught me looking. "Eyes up here, Cross.""I was admiring your cable management," I lied.She grabbed one of the coffees from my hand and took a long sip. "Not decaf?"I shook my head.She dropped into her desk chair and spun to face the m