Your stomach drops as you follow the burning stench to your living room where your boyfriend of 18 months, Marc’kez, sits motionless in your grandmother’s antique armchair…
Marc’kez remains oblivious to the growing dark patch spreading beneath him—his sharp jawline slack, designer stubble perfectly trimmed against his copper-toned skin.
Putrid…
The SoulTech SX-9000 Ether Rig hugs his temples, its sleek silver-blue surface pulsing with light patterns that match his brain activity.
You bought these rigs six months ago, spending Ӿ7,200 credits apiece—three months’ salary—another expense he couldn’t cover, just like the rent, the utilities, the groceries…
And now this weekend’s Dubai II getaway that you’ve been planning for months…
You pull the neural interface from his temples with such force that one of the delicate sensors snaps.
Marc’kez blinks rapidly, confusion morphing into recognition, then embarrassment, as awareness returns.
“Babe, I…” he starts, voice cracking.
His comm chimes.
You retrieve the message from his inbox before he can, playing back the message from Ellison, his boss:
“Marc’kez, your abrupt departure from our performance review was deeply unprofessional. Whatever emergency required you to disconnect mid-sentence must have been quite significant. We’ve decided to postpone your advancement consideration for at least another year — likely two.”
“You pulled me out of my meeting!” Marc’kez protests, still seated in his spreading puddle. “This is YOUR fault!”
Your stomach knots.
The strings you’d pulled with Ellison’s assistant, the “casual” lunch with the VP where you’d talked up Marc’kez’s potential—all wasted.
(You’d never tell Marc’kez about those favors—his fragile pride couldn’t handle knowing you’d helped.)
“MY fault?” Your voice rises to a pitch that makes the smart glass windows vibrate.
“MY FAULT that you SOILED YOURSELF and my grandmother’s chair?”
“It’s this cheap tech,” he mutters, gesturing to the Ether Rig. “The waste management system—”
“A fully functioning adult shouldn’t NEED a waste management system!” The words erupt from you.
“Remember what happened last month? The mattress?”
The memory floods back—waking to wetness spreading beneath you, your pleasant dream of Maldives beaches transforming into the reality of Marc’kez soaking your Ӿ9,000 smart mattress.
Just like your grandmother’s chair, just like everything else in this relationship, it’s yours…
Your grandmother’s antique chair — the hand-carved mahogany frame with cream velvet upholstery wasn’t just furniture; it was history.
She said that the chair had been in your family for thousands of year…
The only thing Grandma managed to salvage when her entire efficiency apartment collapsed during the Great Flooding.
While others grabbed jewelry or tech, she fought through rising waters for this chair—the chair that sat in the corner of her one-room apartment in The Bandos as she worked three jobs to give your family a chance.
The chair that represented every sacrifice, every extra shift, every skipped meal that ultimately led to you escaping Aetherpoint’s notorious slums.
Now it sits beneath Marc’kez, the pristine cream velvet darkening with an expanding stain…
But then…
The viscous sound makes your throat tighten as fresh rivulets stream down the chair legs onto your imported Martian marble…
Yuck!
You remember the SoulTech Support Guru’s exact words three months ago:
“The SX-9000 has shown a 0.02% chance of waste management failure leading to what we term a Catastrophic Secondary Release. We’ve issued a recall notice—just bring it in for a 30-minute replacement.”
A recall Marc’kez ignored, despite your weekly reminders.
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” he’d always say, before spending another day in the Etherverse playing Food Fight Frenzy™ while you worked overtime.
Your eyes dart to your own ruined Ether Rig, its charging port still sizzling in the puddle beneath Marc’kez.
Dubai II is officially canceled.
Without functioning Ether Rigs, there’s no way to fast travel to your reserved proxies waiting in the Crystal Spire Luxury Suite.
And with the global chip shortage, SoulTech has a three-month backorder on new SX models.
That’s Ӿ6,000 non-refundable credits down the drain for the proxy reservation alone.
Through your floor-to-ceiling window, Jersey Genesis unfolds in morning glory—the restored copper of Liberty gleaming while holographic clouds weave between living architecture.
From your vantage in The Ether District, you spot Sophia and Lorenzo preparing for sunrise yoga on their balcony.
Lorenzo.
The one who got away.
You met him 17 months ago at the SoulTech Keynote where they first announced the SX-9000 series.
Your relationship with Marc’kez was fresh then—two weeks in—still easily breakable.
If only you’d followed your instincts.
Lorenzo’s perfect physique isn’t just premium proxy design — it’s genetic lottery.
They don’t physically live here—Lorenzo maintains proxies in twelve countries, his real body safe in a New Monaco preservation chamber.
They just fast travel here Saturday mornings for the famous views.
“But I pay for dinner sometimes,” Marc’kez would counter whenever you mentioned finances.
Yes, the occasional Ӿ20-credit synth-burger while you covered the Ӿ3,800-credit monthly rent, utilities, tech upgrades, and now, the ruined Ӿ12,600-credit Dubai II trip!
“I pulled myself out of The Bandos,” you say, throat tight.
“I worked every scrap job while you partied at State on your parents’ dime.”
“I clawed my way up while you’ve stagnated for six years!”
The truth settles like a stone: you deserve more.
You’ve fought too hard to be emotionally tethered—to someone who can’t control their bodily fluids (or solids).
Your mind drifts back to that SoulTech Keynote 17 months ago—the excitement in the room, the promise of a connected future, and Lorenzo’s knowing smile when he caught you reading the SX-9000 specs.
“Life-changing,” those were his first words to you…
And he was absolutely right—just not in the way you’d hoped…
