It should be a sunny, bright spring day. Instead, the smog covering the city of Chicago disperses any rays of light that try to reach people. It’s as if a yellow cotton blanket has been laid over everything.

  A brown-haired young man stares through the classroom window. He’s wearing hand-me-downs from his older brother, casual grey pants and a long-sleeve shirt. The clothes themselves are decent, only the print on them is a bit faded, and the buttons have started to chip.

  The student sighs before turning to the AI machine and resubmitting his test answers one more time. He’s a scrawny sixteen-year-old, a sign that he spends too much time in the Metaverse. People who do that tend to heavily overeat or forget to consume food at all. It’s rare to find anyone normal looking who spends unreasonable amounts of their time in virtual realities.

  His name, James Grouse, is scribbled at the top of the test paper, just as sloppily as the answers beneath it. In some places his writing is so unreadable that it could be perceived as the right and the wrong answer both at the same time. It’s a special skill James has developed over the years of passing school tests without studying. The date on the paper says that it’s the year 2125, a quarter into the 22nd century.

  The young man repeatedly tries to put his answers inside the square-shaped robot, while the robot repeatedly blinks a red light, spitting the sheet of paper back at him. Even a highly sophisticated AI can’t decipher this handwriting.

  James: “Just take the paper already!”

  Robot: “Error!”

  Every other student has already received their marks and left. James is the only one stuck in this empty classroom still trying to get his. After multiple repeated tries, the machine finally accepts his paper, signaling a green light. It processes the answers.

  Robot: “13 out of 20 test answers are incorrect, 7 are correct. That’s a very low score, I’m disappointed in you. Regarding your essay... it’s absolutely awful. Your take on the current air pollution problem does not fit with any of our schooling materials. Conclusion—you fail this test, and you fail this subject.”

  The boy shakes his head, staring into the robot’s face.

  James: “There are different ways to tackle the air pollution problem. My take on it is just as correct as yours!”

  Robot: “False.”

  James: “It’s not false. Please, reexamine my answer. Look it up on the internet, and you'll see that you’re operating on limited data.”

  The machine throws out a short chuckle.

  Robot: “I’m artificial intelligence. I can make 20 billion calculations in a second, while you as a human can do barely one. I am infinitely times smarter than you. If I said it's incorrect, it's incorrect. So shut up!”

  James: “You piece of crap! Who programmed these machines?”

  He glances around the classroom as if expecting an answer, but no one’s there to respond.

  James: “I want to speak with a human evaluator!”

  Robot: “It's impossible. All grades are final anyway.”

  James: “Stupid AI system... I was born in the wrong generation to be dealing with this nonsense.”

  Robot: “Watch your language! You have insulted me twice. I will deduct two more points from your mark for this kind of behavior.”

  James: “What?! But you also acted disrespectfully towards me!”

  Robot: “This is the realistic language model to give you a realistic conversation experience.”

  James: “Right...”

  James presses the “Report Malfunction” button on the machine. He waits for a moment. Nothing happens. He presses the button again. Nothing happens.

  Robot: “It won’t work. I have determined that everything’s fine with me and have blocked the button-pressing mechanism.”

  James: “You have to be kidding me...”

  The young man presses the button again. When it doesn’t work, he begins smashing it with his fist.

  James: “C’mon... I’m gonna get it to work!”

  Robot: “No, you’re not!”

  James hits the button once more, it yields no results. The round piece of plastic is stuck in place.

  James: “I want to talk to a real person!”

  Frustrated, he kicks the robot. The display that projects a human-like face malfunctions, changing into random flashing lights, numbers, and letters. A blaring siren pierces the boy’s ears while a defense pepper spray ejector appears at the top of the robot’s head. It shoots its contents straight into James’s face.

  The student screams as he covers his face.

  James: “My eyes! Aaaahhh! Piece of junk!”

  Robot: “Enjoy the principal’s office, you little jerk.”

  James: “What?! No! I’m in too much trouble already... I need to leave. Give me back my stuff!”

  One hand covering his eyes, the other waving around, James feels his way across the teacher’s desk. While knocking things over, he searches the entire wooden surface until his hand touches something familiar. A pile of electronic devices. I’m the last one here, it has to be all my stuff... James grabs everything, cramming the majority of it in his pockets. The VR bracelets go on his forearms.

  Most students take their classes inside a virtual reality environment called the "Metaverse." Because of a nationwide health initiative, they can only take up to 60% of their entire education process there. The rest of the schooling has to be done in person. For most students that means showing up to a physical school at least 2 days a week to experience socializing with their peers. It also reduces cheating when taking tests.

  Before the students enter a classroom, they are required to give up all of their gadgets. That’s what James is now stuffing his pockets with. Having reclaimed his things, he feels his way against the classroom wall and out its doors. Tears flow down his cheeks as the blinded teenager makes his way forward. Stupid AI! I should have scraped by and passed, but it still failed me. And it ruined my lenses! They are not cheap!

  James wears augmented reality lenses that help him cheat during tests. Now they’re completely ruined, and being pepper sprayed while having contact lenses is twice as bad for the eyes.

  Is this my punishment for not studying? I have to get them out ASAP! Where’s the bathroom?? Can’t see anything...

  He stumbles down the corridor. Through the tears, the sneezing, the sting in his eyes, and the snot flying everywhere, James finds his way forward. After a minute of struggle, he makes it to the boys' bathroom. As he enters, he hears a guy’s voice.

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  Someone’s singing?

  Guy: “Happy birthday to me... Happy birthday to me...”

  There’s definitely another person in the bathroom, but James can’t make out much of anything. He feels his way to one of the sinks, turns it on, and plunges his face under the cool running water. It provides a second of relief but doesn’t help much beyond that. The eyes still refuse to open, the burn is just as bad as before.

  The singing has stopped. It bothers James that he can’t see what’s happening around him. Did I interrupt what they were doing? I hope they don’t think I’m weird or anything... I should say something.

  James: “Don’t mind me, I’m a test subject for school defense systems.”

  No response. He keeps running the water across his face.

  James: “Is it your birthday?”

  Silence... except James can hear a person fidgeting not too far from himself. He’s about to say something again when the other guy finally speaks up.

  Guy: “Yes, it is.”

  James: “Happy birthday!”

  Guy: “Thanks.”

  James takes a bunch of paper towels, blows his nose, and cleans off his face before catching a quick, blurry image of who he’s talking to. Height wise, there’s a slightly below average male school student standing a couple of feet to the left of him. The kid could be similar in age to James.

  The guy has a light brown skin tone, short dark coiled hair, and a chubby body shape hidden under the white t-shirt he’s wearing. He has a pair of lightweight extended reality (XR) glasses sitting on his nose.

  In one hand the boy has a lighter, while the other rests on the sink in front of him. On the sink beside the water tap, there’s a bunch of paper towels neatly stacked on top of each other. At the top of this paper towel stack sits a chocolate cupcake with a single lit candle.

  James returns to his sink to keep throwing water on his face. He uses fingers to try and dig out the contacts but fails. The eyes won’t open. The only thing he can do is stand there with his red, puffy eyelids clenched shut and runny snot dripping from his nose. I must look ridiculous.

  To not make it awkward, he keeps the conversation going.

  James: “Why do you celebrate your birthday in the school’s bathroom?”

  Guy: “I don’t know... There’s no better place...”

  James: “That’s sad.”

  The chubby kid drops his head, staring at the floor.

  Guy: “Yeah...”

  James feels the depressive tone in the kid’s voice. Did I upset him?

  James: “Hey, don’t worry about it! At least you’re not alone anymore, there’s two of us. I’ll celebrate with you. My name’s James.”

  Guy: “I’m Dontavious.”

  James: “What are you turning?”

  Dontavious: “16.”

  James: “I see, Dontavious... I don’t think I’ve ever taken a class with you. You must be a grade below me. I’m a senior."

  Dontavious: “Yes, I’m a junior."

  While bent over the sink, James’s ears prick up. Loud voices echo in the corridor outside the bathroom. It's a chit-chat between two boys heading this way. Not long after, the bathroom door springs open, and the two male students enter. As soon as they’re inside, both start pushing each other, laughing, and howling like wolves. Bathroom acoustics make the ear-piercing howls even louder.

  James rubs his eyes, fishing for the contact lenses, but can’t seem to get ahold of them. He starts to get irritated by the whole situation. Great, now there’s two more people here... What’s the deal with these clowns?

  Dontavious clues him in.

  Dontavious: “Those are my classmates, Willy and Benny.”

  James: “...”

  Through infrequent moments of regaining his sight, James gets a rough image of the two. Willy has big distinctive ears that stick out from both sides of his head. He wears baggy, torn pants that have more holes in them than fabric. He’s also wearing a dark t-shirt and an overly large belt that holds everything together.

  Benny’s outfit is the complete opposite, everything’s tight. The yellow shirt, the leather pants, the wristwatch. Everything fits so closely to his body as if it were glued to his skin. James remembers that he’s definitely seen these two in school. It’s hard not to.

  Willy claps his hands obnoxiously loudly, at first noticing James and only then Dontavious. Seeing his classmate, he stops mid-clap.

  Willy: “There you are, DT!”

  Benny: “DT?! We thought you'd gone home already. You forgot your phone.”

  Both guys come up to and hand Dontavious his smartphone.

  Willy: “Here it is.”

  Dontavious: “Thanks...”

  They notice the paper towel setup on the sink.

  Benny: “What’s up with the muffin? You celebrating something?”

  Dontavious: “No, it’s just for fun.”

  James removes his face from the stream of water, drying it with a bunch of paper towels. He can’t resist not joining the conversation.

  James: “It’s Dontavious’s birthday. We should sing him a song or something.”

  The two new guys glance at James.

  Willy: “Huh?”

  Benny cracks a high-pitched laugh.

  Benny: “It’s DT’s birthday? Yeah, right.”

  He leans in and blows out the single candle on the muffin. The fragile flame dies, leaving behind a thin wisp of smoke curling into the air.

  Benny: “Maybe it’s my birthday. I wish for... better bathrooms. These stone-age stalls are disgusting.”

  He grabs a couple of paper towels, crumples them in a ball, wets the amalgamation in the sink, and hurls the thing at one of the stalls. The ball splatters at the white plywood door, parts of it flying in every direction, while the core sticks to the painted surface.

  Benny: “Boom!”

  He and Willy both laugh.

  Willy: “Good one.”

  James follows everything through the short moments when he’s able to open his eyes for a second or two. He notices Dontavious standing in the corner of the bathroom with a grim expression. He does not laugh with his classmates.

  James: “That was rude... Why did you blow out the candle?”

  Benny and Willy both glance at James. They now take the time to look him up and down.

  Benny: “You talking to me?”

  James: “Who else? Yes, I’m talking to you. Why did you blow out that candle? It wasn’t yours.”

  Benny: “Why? Because I felt like it.”

  Willy: “What do you care? It's not yours either.”

  James: “...”

  The teenager can’t stand the burning eyes, he hides his face back under the running water. Benny points to James with his thumb.

  Benny: “Who is this dude anyway? You know him, DT?”

  Dontavious lethargically shakes his head.

  Dontavious: “Not really. We just met.”

  Benny takes one last glance at James before turning back to Dontavious.

  Benny: “By the way, DT, your phone is garbage. We dropped it once, and it broke. It won’t turn on.”

  This piques Dontavious’s attention. The boy raises his head.

  Dontavious: “What?”

  Willy: “We asked AI what the most likely damage is and how much it would cost to repair it...”

  Benny: “Long story short, it’s better to buy a new one. The repairs would be too expensive.”

  Dontavious: “Is that a joke?”

  Willy: “It’s not.”

  Dontavious examines his smartphone. He presses the button that’s supposed to turn it on, but the touchscreen remains dark. He tries many different button combinations with no results. He even lightly hits the device against his other palm a couple of times, then presses the buttons. Still nothing.

  The boy grabs his head with his free hand.

  Dontavious: “No, no, no... this can’t be happening...”

  He walks back and forth, visibly distressed, shaking the device in his hand.

  James gets out of the sink, wiping his face on his sleeve.

  James: “There’s no way, you two. You blew out his candle and destroyed his phone? On his birthday?!”

  Benny rolls his eyes while adjusting his tight shirt.

  Benny: “Relax, it’s not a big deal. It’s not even his birthday. I think...”

  Dontavious, seemingly lost in his own world, keeps pacing back and forth. He murmurs under his breath.

  Dontavious: “It was fully charged, so that couldn’t be the problem... It’s either the display that’s dead or something internal... Those things will cost almost as much as getting a new similar phone...”

  The boy stares at the shiny glass gadget in disbelief. Willy reaches out, placing his hand on Dontavious’s shoulder.

  Willy: “Don’t worry about it, simply get a new one. This model is so outdated, we basically did you a favor.”

  Dontavious looks up, his face contorted and strained. When speaking, the boy’s lip quivers as if trying to hold back tears.

  Dontavious: “I don’t have the money for that. My stepdad is going to kill me...”

  His voice cracks. The teenager wipes the corner of his eye. One last look at the phone is enough. He squeezes the device in his hand.

  Dontavious: “Piece of crap!”

  In a moment of rage, he flings the phone at the nearby wall. The device shatters on impact. It ricochets off the hard surface, Benny jumps back last minute to avoid it.

  Benny: “Woah! It was a joke. We didn’t actually drop it. We only took out the battery.”

  Willy laughs.

  Willy: “Hah, I didn’t expect that... You’re crazy, DT!”

  Willy reaches into his pocket, takes out the battery, and hands it over to Dontavious. Dontavious stares at it.

  Dontavious: “Wait... so the phone was fine? You said it wasn’t a joke...”

  Willy: “It was. We didn’t think you’d go so crazy over it.”

  Dontavious falls to the floor to pick up his phone. He desperately scrambles to put everything together, the phone, the battery, pressing the buttons. He assembles it and tries, but it’s no use. Now it’s truly broken. As he sits on his knees holding the useless device in his hands, the boy seems completely defeated. The realization of what’s happened fully sets in.

  Dontavious: “What have I done...”

  He covers his face with both hands, quietly crying out.

  Dontavious: “It’s all over for me... I’m done...”

  James can’t bear listening to the pain in the boy’s voice any longer. Teeth-clenching rage swells up inside of him. He throws one more splash of water on his face before slamming the sink with his fist.

  James: “Seriously, guys? What was that? You call that a prank?!”

  He stands tall, squaring up to Willy.