Rory's eyes shot open. He looked around frantically. His room was dark; only faint shadows, his old computer, and pieces of papers were visible to his eyes.

Is it morning?

He hobbled out of bed. He went over to his desk. He pushed mounds of paper off of his computer. Then he finally found his vintage alarm clock. The red numbers on the clock were fuzzy. He banged it with a hard fist, the numbers finally visible.

“Five…? I guess I should get ready…”

He put on a baggy, plain, baby blue sweater, and hole-filled tan shorts. Downstairs Desirae sipped at tea. There weren't any whining children out at this hour. But he still wondered why she was up. Work didn't start for another three hours for her.

“Morning dear…” she greeted, her voice weary, and lacked character.

“Why are you up? And why have you dressed for work already?” he asked.

She was wearing her tacky cowgirl outfit today. She worked part-time as a waitress at one of those gaudy and expensive restaurants, in Base Three. But the place had sour customers and not the best pay in the world. Desirae claimed that her co-workers were awfully kind to her though. Rory refused to believe such an atrocious accusation.

“I traded shifts with Lana today. I have to leave early. I can't take you to school but I can wish you a safe trip there Rory,” she explained, smiling a little.

She hugged him tightly, smiling a bit.

“Be careful, okay?”

“I know…”

“Good. Love you, dear…”

She went out the back door, her boots jingling as she left.

“Bye…”

There was the sound of her motorcycle speeding off, but that was all. He was alone now; there was no sound except for the soft tap of the rain drizzle outside.

Rory poked through the cupboards, looking for something small to eat for breakfast. He grabbed an already open chip bag. He removed the clip that sealed it and began chewing on a few.

“God...I'm not even hungry. I should just go catch the train.”

He unloaded the bag of chips onto the counter and sloppily clipped it shut.

He chucked on his shoes and packed his backpack with his lunch and his notebook. He grabbed the house key, then headed out.

Rory strolled down the street, hands buried in his pockets.

His eyes wandered amongst the cluttered shops, and the few pedestrians walking at this hour. He never noticed how detailed people were.

He saw them maybe for a second but saw so many little quirks and features.

Wow, this is kinda neat. When did investigating people become...interesting?

There in his vision, he saw one of the girls from the night watch. She had short, butchered, pink hair, and a bullet shot ear. Her eyes were misty, and her skin had patches of lighter color. Her body was built and she had stature to her walk.

She gave him a firm look, that every military soldier had under their usual, already cold face.

The next person that walked by was a smirking man with awfully drawn on tattoos. His hair was a flop of dark brown hair and his skin was pale. His face was weirdly elongated and his chin protruded out of his face prominently.

Rory couldn't stop fascinating himself with people's attributes and presentation.

I need to stop...I'm so weird…

The temptation to analyze people was nipping at him like an icy wind. He decided to run to the subway instead of walk.

If this prevents me from looking at people, so be it.

Breathlessly, he entered the subway station. Although his attempt to avoid people succeed, he forgot there were stairs.

His foot caught on the slick surface of the tile, and he went cascading down the fleet of stairs.

Repeatedly, his back and head banged against the sharp stone steps as he tumbled down.

When he reached the bottom, his whole body hit the floor with a large crash.

He curled up there, his head spinning and his eyes dizzy. He wanted to curse every curse word out there but had no energy left to exert vulgar screams.

He lied there, his body aching, and his head not feeling right.

Why am I acting like such a weird-ass lately?

He removed his body from the floor and dusted himself off.

Oh, thank god. No one was here…

The train sped down the rails, coming to a sharp stop. Rory boarded quickly, seating himself on one of the many empty seats.

He was glad to be alone. He liked the clicking sound of the rails and the light air-conditioned space around him.

Sure the train was a little rickety and was slightly dirty in a few spots. But travel was cheap and reliable... enough.

He was about to put up his feet and throw back his arms when his eyes spotted something.

Sitting across from him was that boy.

Oh my god. I almost forgot him...that boy from five weeks ago...

The boy sat crossed legged on the seat and held a neutral expression. He wore a white collared shirt and had a knit, light tan sweater over it. He had black jeans on and those somewhat dirtied, white shoes. His hair was glossy and neatly brushed as usual.

He sat there fiddling with small pieces of metal. Rory couldn't quite make out what the small pieces of metal were. Everything he tried to do to see the incredibly small metal fragments failed; from adjusting his posture to giving odd looks, all ended badly.

He finally gave up, realizing how much of a fool he must have looked like.

Weird. Why is he riding the train at this time too?

Rory fumbled over his thoughts, messily trying to piece it all together. But he knew nothing about the boy. He gazed at him, his eyes fixated on his face, and meticulous handwork.

The boy toyed with his metal cat borgs. They purred and jumped around his hands like actual cats. They had jeweled, glowing red eyes, and metallic bodies, from their heads to their small paws.

The borgs’ tails tickled his hands as they went about crawling on his skin. The boy lost interest in their playful nature, putting the small borgs into his pocket.

He produced a broken com from his bag and started tinkering with it.

Rory continued to watch his movements. He saw his hands move so effortlessly, and smoothly as he worked.

Hmmm... I guess he likes engineering. Maybe he's a scrapper or something…? But he doesn't suit that norm…

As the ride continued on Rory kept staring. The boy never looked up to see Rory gazing at him, so it seemed alright to do it.

The train would be nearing the station anytime now.

“Terris Station!” the conductor called out over the intercom.

Rory shook himself out of his daze, then proceeded to the train doors. The boy followed, not paying attention to where he walked. They got out of the train. The train sped off, the two walking side by side as they left the station. Rory looked over, seeing that the boy was still there. Rory’s calmed expression contorted into a flabbergasted face.

He goes to this school too?!

During the whole walk to the school the boy there. While the boy was busy with his metal, Rory was gawking at his presence.

They kept walking next to one another. They crossed the street, finally ending up in front of the high school.

The boy went on in, without the slightest impression that Rory was there. Rory stopped at the foot of the stairs.

Since when did fate decide to make me go to the same school as this boy?

Rory did as any of the other students did. He went to his locker and got comfortable with it. He didn't put anything in it really, and sorta just looked at its bare contents.

Why is everything so damn clean here? Not like it's bad... but definitely strange.

Rory slammed shut his locker, then proceeded to his first period.

He arrived in his first class, seeing an actual teacher. She wore a flower-patterned hijab and had a long, purple, robe-like dress on that covered most of her skin. She had dark brown skin similar to his, but the tone was a slightly more olive colored tone.

Rory sensed a familiar atmosphere about her. Like as if he had seen her before. Or maybe... another person that looks like someone he knew…?

He pondered this but didn't really give it much attention. All that really went through his head was the wonder and curiosity surrounding the boy. He awkwardly shuffled toward the front desk. The woman turned around. She grinned brightly at him, her big cheeks a glow.

“Morning- Oh my…”

Rory looked at her oddly.

What kind of reaction was that?

She gazed at him up and down. The room was completely silent. Rory itched the back of his neck as if to tame his nerves.

Another person came into the room. She was wearing a hijab as well, and her looks closely resembled the teachers. Her hijab was a turquoise blue, with soft orange flowers imprinted on it. She wore a white flowing dress and had a bag draping her side. Her eyes had long lashes and a rounded shape to them.

She entered with a bouncy walk, not minding Rory at first glance.

“Mom, I was wondering if I could-”

Yet again, Rory was greeted with another blank stare.

“Do I know you?” the teacher asked, finally clearing out the dreadful silence.

“Um... well... maybe... ?” Rory uttered, looking the other way.

“Your mother, is her name Desirae Amari?” she continued to say.

“Yeah…”

Rory was “glad” that there was someone familiar to his family at this school, but it vexed him at the same time because he couldn't recollect the two women before him.

“Really?!” she exclaimed in a surprised tone. “You must be Rory then! You and my daughter were friends when you two were children!”

Oh...OH. She was a friend way back in elementary school, and that's her mom. They're pretty nice from what I remember…

“I'm Mrs. Carter if you don't remember, and you remember Amara right?” she said, her face beaming with delight.

He moved his eyes over to lie on Amara. She looked concerned or perhaps, nervous in a sense. She twiddled her fingers and looked at the floor with shame.

What's up with her?

“Yeah... I remember her…” Rory replied, speaking to Mrs. Carter while eyeing Amara.

“It's been a while…” Amara mumbled, her voice as quiet as a mouse.

Rory didn't want to stay any longer. The longer he was there, the more he felt awkward. Sure he knew them, but not as well as he used to.

“Um... I got to go. It was nice seeing you two again though…” He said, his eyes peering at the open doorway behind them.

“You as well! I can't believe we have met again after all of these years!” Mrs. Carter said, her mouth still a pleasant, large grin.

He flashed a grin, a hint of pain in it. He waved a hand, then left.

Today, fate just keeps pulling me together with people…

He strode down the hallway, wandering without cause.

Where the hell am I going?

He decided to go to the library since the hallways were starting to getting slightly more crowded with people and chatter.

He entered, looking around for a good empty table.

Damn. Look at all of these books and computers…

He found an empty table, sat down, and sighed. The tired feeling started to work its way to his brain. He had shoved it away all morning, but now it dawned on him mercilessly.

With resignation, he rested his head on the smooth table.

First I come to school way too early, and now I’m a tired wreck. Great…

He closed his eyes. He was about to hold his breath from the bad smell but realized there was no bad smell. Breathing normally, and not being anxious in his surroundings, wasn’t something he was going to adjust to in just a second. Base Six, after all, was a dirty glob of dirt, rust, and people. But this school contrasted from that. Life in Base Five was like alien terrain to him.

Schools in Base Six had teachers. But they would just turn on videos with plastic and childish characters. The information taught was easy basics, the information that you’d find in the normal grade classes, not the honors classes. In fact, there weren’t even any honors classes.

Rory was of high standard. He was a true genius. His intellect could never be sated by simple education. He enjoyed research and computers more than actual human interaction. For the past months of summer vacation, Rory had spent his free time on ridiculous research on schools in Colony 8. What made it so bad was that he was entertained by it.

Rory's eyes opened slowly. He looked around wearily. He checked his com for the time. He found that his time before school starts was barely dented. He was going to plop his head down on the table again before he saw the boy sitting two tables away.

Suddenly he felt captivated by his presence, although he didn't really know why. There was a definite mystery clouding around this boy, and Rory justified his captivated thoughts with that accusation.

The boy was still tinkering with the com. His face was calm, but his hands were like machines powering away.

Rory had never really found engineering fascinating before, but seeing the boy tackle it in such a manner brought interest into his mind.

Did someone pay him to fix that? Maybe it's a hobby of his...or maybe it's part of a part-time job…?

Rory wondered and wondered. Curiosity pumped up to his brain as he thought.

He decided to give himself moratorium on his observation. The trepidation of the boy noticing his stalking eyes was very high. Rory wasn't sure how credulous this boy was. The situation of this boy seeing him analyzing him played out in Rory's head. He knew already that he couldn't fool this boy that he was just simply looking at him.

He sighed, dropping his head on the table like a marble.

He looked at him from this view instead, to keep a lower profile. From this view, he could see a part of his face underneath the curtain of hair in his face. The boy swept his hair into a bundle, then pushed it back neatly.

Rory peered at him even more closely now. His eyes were misty and almost like glass. They were so noticeable. Rory fixated his eyes on them as if to guide him in finding out more about him.

HIs head suddenly lifted up. He looked directly at Rory. Rory sat there frozen. He neither flinched nor blinked. His eyes were gaped open with fear.

Shit! Shit! Shit-

His eyes were piercing into his. Rory couldn't breathe. His eyes didn't blink, they just gaped at him like two fireballs.

He finally stopped. His head pivoted back into its original position. Rory let out a choked breath, his eyes darting the other way.

What do I do now? I got really lucky with him. He may have looked my way and not noticed me, but just wait. He’ll definitely notice me if I look at him again… I guess I should at least try to see who he is…

The boy got out of his chair. He began to walk away. Rory saw an opportunity and leaped to get it. He got out of his chair slowly, until the boy got close enough. He walked towards him. He bumped into him lightly, seeing what his reaction would be.

“Oh sorry…” Rory said innocently, flashing a smile.

“You're going the wrong way if you're trying to exit,” the boy said back, his face not shaken. Then he went past him, going to a shelf of books.

What the… that reaction… is he a smart-ass or something…?

Rory glided out of the library, the moment still lingering in his mind. He went back to his first-period class; he slid into his desk, pressing his head against the cold desk. He shut his eyes.