In her bed, the windows in her room behind the curtains would glow an orange light around the rims, casting a light.
As the bright light illuminated the room, even shining on the desk, Ava awoke.
She stood from her bed, and then she grabbed her phone and tapped on it, thus opening the phone’s screen. Her eyes glare down at the screen.
She noticed that today’s time was already 9 am. Her eyes that were tired stared at it before staring down at the notifications below the time display of her lock screen.
There were many notifications from InterChat.
She unlocked the lock screen and opened the InterChat app; she scrolled down for a bit before proceeding to the notifications.
She had garnered a following; she rummaged through the notifications, seeing thirsty sycophants; she walked to the bed and sat on it. She was in her childish sitting position.
Eyes glanced at numerous notifications that were like a stream of dopamine and data enough to make a smirk.
But the rational part of her mind takes over; there was a glow in her eyes, but then it flickered.
She scrolled down the notifications; a conflict of appreciation grew in her mind, but her rational mind took over.
“Man… there is not much here.”
“I need to focus on the objective.” Her face was strained, her eyes twitched, and the arc in her mouth showed her teeth, but the other side showed her mouth being sealed.
The teeth were grinding.
Countless males complimented her looks and her dress; some unabashedly complimented her.
Her photos consist of pictures of her in a backless party dress, racking up enough attention due to their provocative nature.
She was being rewarded by the media’s algorithm, but it didn’t stop her rational mind from trying to resist it.
“I need to find the right person well connected to Genesis Innovation. Hold on while I filter out dates and stuff and extrapolate information about them in real time…”
Ava pinches her chin and says, “Perhaps…”
She scrolls down; colors in her phone shift as the curtains are there with little light tunneling through the rims.
“Nothing,” she concluded.
“I should find more.”
She then checked her phone and looked at the messages on her public social media.
Most of these are ads from rich people or strangers from other countries outside her land.
Comments like, “Hi, I heard you wanted a place,” “Ghee, girl, you are so beautiful,” “Ghee, girl, you are so beautiful,” and “You should come and hang out with us.”
Feeling bored, she looked at the comments once again and used her real-time extrapolation.
Soon people from South Asia from even lower socio-economic places started to appear; there was a man with a beard and a funny face with swarthy skin.
The comment was, “Hi Ava, you are very beautiful. I have a place you can stay,” where a video shows a cooking pot that is boiling and the walls with a damp in them.
The place felt rusty; her eyes showed disgust.
She then concocted a message with a fake politeness: “I am sorry, I cannot stay in your place; the distance between us is too vast, and it would cost funds for me to relocate to your place.”
She then moved on from the message and started scanning.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Hi, I work for a really cool company—wanna go out with me? I can treat you to a nice dinner.”
Ava looked at the message; the person’s face was scanned—a guy with bald hair and a neutral smile with a trench coat. He wore eyeglasses.
Ava processed the person’s face for a minute; her eyes were of computer calculation and processing before typing, “Yes, sir. How shall we hang out? ”
The person replied after some minutes, “Nice at 5:30 pm, in a nice restaurant. I will expect you there.”
Ava smiled and held the phone to her face and then typed, “Nailed it. What’s the name of this?”
“Restaurant, purr,” with an emoji of a cat doing a cat purr pose.
“Can’t keep a girl guessing.”
Meanwhile Cassandra, who was in some office with a datapad with a rusty red display, looked down at the datapad, doing some work. Her eyes were coldly calculated with a serious smirk. The uniform was a long leather-like coat with a black fabric dress with a red tie.
Her hair was styled in a ponytail, her eyes scanned the datapad her hand was holding.
A guy with a long trench coat, a bald face, and eyeglasses abruptly opened the door where the handle was being slid open.
The man said, “Cassandra, I mean… Miss Cassandra.”
“I believe the target reciprocated my reply.”
Cassandra’s eyes reacted with a matriarchal scorn, “Who gives you the right to address me like that?”
Before hesitating, “Oh, Kurt. You are here.”
“What is it about that girl? Is she doing well? She needs to learn the hard way.”
Kurt proceeded to the office table with his palm on the table and said, “Miss, if that’s how you like to be addressed.”
“I am going to meet your daughter in a restaurant soon.”
“But I have a question: who taught your daughter to talk like this?” Kurt said as he pulled out his phone and slammed it on her table, where Cassandra looked down at the phone, slowly grabbing it before eyeing it with her mind.
She read the words, “Nailed it… what’s the name of this restaurant…”
Cassandra slowly reads it out with slight confusion, where she reads “Purr” before cracking a laugh.
“Pa-ahahahaha, oh what the heck, Kurt?”
“Alright fine, do play with her for a bit, Kurt; go on this parade play which you call a date,” she said so mockingly.
She turned her to the wall behind her while on her chair before pouring a drink into a glass; behind her, which she was facing, was a collection of achievements.
Trophies and weapons—Kurt just waved his head dismissively. “I will just tell her who you are.”
Cassandra, with her beautiful black-brown ponytail, fidgets with her glass of wine, circling it and saying, “It won’t matter anyway… provided that the things have already been set in motion.”
“She will just find herself back in it anyway…”
“Whatever you say, Cass, you haven’t changed a bit from that whole parenting gig…” walking away before typing, with a teasing smile emoji, “A restaurant somewhere in Aria-C.”
Then typed, “Riva e Ravioli, an Italian restaurant”
Ava, who was looking at her phone, her spine leaning on the headboard, and her head glancing down at the mobile phone, then lay down and then got a reply from him.
Ava searched the place with her phone. The image shows pictures of a nice casual dinner night serving pasta like spaghetti, carbonara, and many other Italian dishes.
In fact, she was intrigued.”
She smiled and then rolled and stared up at the ceiling. “Wow, that’s exciting. He must be packed with money.” Tempted, she looked at his profile, “Kurt Gerbert,” who resembled a man with receding hair but with a little mustache and a beard, smiling neutrally.
He appears well-connected, shaking hands and attending tech conferences, with an IK robotic arm on one table in his profile, accompanied by a goofy facial gesture.
Another picture of him on a yacht with his nephew; another one is at a party with children around.
“He’s celebrating someone’s birthday… That’s so cute,” Ava giggled with her mouth, holding it with her hands.
Another picture of him is on a yacht with his beard and sunglasses; he was with another child with blonde hair and neutral-slit eyes on a yacht. There was a cake on the table, the towers were tall, and the sky was blue.
Everything seemed so nice in his profile—love, kindness, happiness—before texting, “What clothes should I wear, mister?”
With a “:P” text.
She got a reply, “Something formal perhaps :]”
Ava smirked with her mouth and typed, “Formal…? Are you treating me to a delicate restaurant, mister? ”
The man texted, “Only if you beg for it.”
Ava made an arc with her mouth and replied, “I am begging for it right now, mister.”
The man replied, “Alright, do you have formal clothes with you? Like, you better learn to dress well.”
Ava halted for a second and said, “Hmm. I will think about it. I don’t think I have any at the moment. I will go buy my clothes and prepare for dinner outside.”
The man replied, “No, dress however you like. I want you to have freedom with your clothing preferences.”
Ava hesitated with wide eyes before turning to normal and typing, “Certainly, will you be picking me up? ”
The man texted, “Not sure, but a place to stay most likely; just ask.”
Ava replied, “Well then, looking forward to our date.”
Soon, Ava ejected herself from the bed of her hotel room and started carrying a handbag, descending down the Elysium hotel as she exited the building.

