There are only a couple of venues in Ramsey that are big enough for the party. We could easily have walked down to the hotel on the sea-front, rather than getting a cab. Indeed, on any other occasion, we would certainly have done just that, but tonight is special. The electronic signage was plastered with slogans confirming that we were the class of 2092 and all our faces faded in and out of view in some bizarre carousel of horror. How can we have come so far yet remained so tacky.

Of course, we were all dressed up, but still not old enough to have alcohol – the 18-year age limit seems like it is here to stay. Not that I minded, as I really wasn’t much of a drinker, even though my parents didn’t object as long as I was sensible and we sometimes had wine with a meal.

Well over half of us now have our implants and there’s clearly a new dynamic that we are all slowly adjusting to. Primarily, there’s no longer a need to whisper to your friend, you can just silently message them instead. There a quite a few momentary vacant expressions as people react or respond internally.

Tasha and I find a suitably quiet corner and try to people-watch with a soft drink and some snacks. It’s a party, it’s loud and I’m really not comfortable. I’m determined to stick it out for as long as I can, but I’m really not sure how long I’ll last.

My mood isn’t being helped by the fact that Tasha is constantly bombarding me with messages, almost all of them suggesting I look at some particular guy or another.

“I’m not interested, Tasha.” I finally say out loud. “Why don’t you go and talk to some of them?”

“Well, firstly because I’m with you and, secondly, because I’m with you. Besides, I know most of them and I’m just not interested.”

“Fine then. But feel free to go if you get bored!”

“I’m not bored, but do you want to dance?”

“Right, let’s analyse.” I start in a matter-of-fact tone. “You want me, the agoraphobe, to go onto a crowded dance floor with a bunch of loud, touchy teens? Hmm… probably not, but thanks for asking.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s a party. I did tell you it wasn’t my thing, but I’m fine.”

I spot Jack standing alone across the room and message him quickly.

<Jack, walk over this way, as if you’re just wandering past. Follow my lead.>

I get no reply, but Jack looks around until he catches sight of the two of us and slowly begins to head in our direction.

“Hey Jack,” I call as he starts to pass in front of us, “Tasha wants to dance, will you do the honours as I don’t think I can do dance floor crowds?”

“Oh, sure!” Jack’s smile is evidently genuine as he turns to Tasha. “Would you like to dance?”

“I…”

“Go on,” I tell her. “You said you wanted to dance and now’s your chance.”

Gallantly, Jack holds out a hand to Tasha and she reluctantly accepts and stands, taking Jacks proffered hand. Jack manages a sly wink in my direction as he turns to walk towards the dance floor with Tasha on his arm. That’s as formal as it gets because they are soon writhing and bouncing in time to the raucous music with everybody else.

I sit back with my drink in my hand and close my eyes for a few moments.

<Nexima, can you reduce the ambient noise?>

<Partly. I can try some broad-spectrum sound wave inversion. I don’t really have enough on-board processing power but it might help a little.>

<Try it please.>

Slowly, the noise of the music and dancing fades a little into the background and I’m able to open my eyes to watch everyone else enjoying the party. Most people are on the dance floor or clumped together around noisy, busy tables. One or two couples are clearly kissing and cuddling in various alcoves and corners and a few people are, like me, sitting in smaller quieter groups or alone.

Just around the corner, I see Sara, one of Tasha’s friends, sitting quietly with a guy I don’t recognise. He’s slim, athletic, pale-complexioned with short-cropped blond hair and very cute. Hang on, did I just think someone was cute?

<Tash, who’s that guy with Sara Corlett?>

<Oh, that’s her older brother, Peter. Do you like what you see?>

<What! No, I was just wondering who the strange face was. I know almost everybody else here. Forget I asked.>

I close my eyes again and let my head fall back onto the wall behind me. I’m coping better with the lower sound level, but I’m beginning to feel the urge to get out. I take a few deep breaths and try to relax. At least with the volume now turned back down to ten, I can try and clear my mind.

“Excuse me!” the sound of someone speaking jolts me out of my fugue.

<Nexima, volume normal please.>

<Yes Nick.>

The volume builds back over a couple of seconds, giving me time to focus on the source of interruption. The blond guy is standing in front of me, taller than I expected him to be and more muscular as well.

“Sorry, yes?”

“No, I’m the one who should apologise for disturbing you. Was I interrupting anything?”

“Oh, no, I just needed to tune out for a minute. I had my implant suppressing the noise as best she could.”

“Right, that’s not something I would have thought of doing. That’s really clever.”

“I didn’t think about it really, just seemed like the right question to ask. Sorry, but can I help you?”

“Oh, yes, sorry again. We should stop apologising? Sara noticed you were on your own and sent me to ask if you wanted some company. May I join you?” Peter’s smile is genuine and his manner is disarming, but his ice-blue eyes are doing odd things to me.

“Please,” I indicate the seat recently vacated by Tasha and he sits slowly. “I suspect Tasha told Sara to not leave me on my own. She’s very protective.”

“And she needs to protect you? You look like you can take care of yourself.”

“Oh, not physically. I have agoraphobia and an anxiety disorder. I don’t do crowds and this is a bit of a struggle. Hence the need to turn the volume down. I’m Nick, by the way,” I add holding out my hand.

“Peter,” he replies taking my proffered hand and shaking with a firm but controlled grip. “If you find this sort of thing difficult, why are you here? Sorry, was that too personal?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. Actually, I feel I need to push myself. I have to try and manage my anxiety and overcome it. I’m right on my limit though.” I manage a wry smile.

“Stop me if I do get personal, but isn’t there a treatment that can help?”

“Yes, but it is very new. You need an implant and I’ve been waiting for a few years. It should start in the next few weeks. I still feel I have to help myself though.”

“Well, do you need to step out for a while. How about a walk along the promenade?”

“Yes, why not. A few minutes away from all this probably will give me a second wind.”

The warm summer evening is growing dark, but the street-lights along the promenade are bright and welcoming. The footpath is quiet, only a few people either walking their dogs or just out for a stroll. The tide is low and the gentle breaking of the almost non-existent waves is barely a murmur in the distance.

“So, Peter, what do you do?”

“Oh, actually I work for Nexima. I’m training to be a hardware interface engineer.”

“Well,” I tell him. “I’ve no idea what that involves, but it does sound interesting and important. It must be amazing, working for Nexima?”

“It’s a good place to work, we spend more time in the office than many people do these days, but we do still work from home for at least part of each week. I’m on a two-year apprenticeship, so half way through now.”

“What will you actually do, once the training is over? I thought that AI did almost everything at Nexima now?”

“For the most part, that’s true. I’ll be working on improving the future generations of bio-neural interface filaments. The AI does indeed work out what’s needed, but we then have to create the materials and make it all work. Someone has to have some level of oversight as well. Wouldn’t want the AIs to get out of control.”

We have reached the northern end of the promenade and turn to retrace our steps back towards the hotel. We walk a little in silence, both seeming to enjoy the quietness of the walk and the gentle sounds of the sea.

“Did Sara make you come to a graduation party with her?” I ask as we get close to the hotel once more.

“Yes, she kept complaining that she had nobody to go with and everyone else did. She said that even Tasha had you as her date.”

“Oh, we’re not a couple or anything. She’s my best friend. Actually, she made me come with her tonight. I wanted to stay at home.”

“And you both had nobody to go to graduation with. I find that surprising on both sides. Tasha’s very pretty and you’re really quite hot.”

“Well, thank you. Blame limited interest on my part and a limited potential pool for finding a date. I think I’m the only gay guy in my entire school year.”

“Right. Being in a minority, even if it’s totally socially acceptable, does narrow one’s choices down quite significantly.”

“Yes, I’m really not looking at the moment though, so it’s not a problem.”

“Well, Nick, I think we should always be looking, in case we miss the perfect opportunity.”

I hesitate at the entrance to the hotel and Peter notices, stopping and turning back to face me. “Feel strong enough to brave the chaos one more time? Do you need a hand?” He reaches his open palm out towards me.

“I’m ready.” I respond simply and take his offered hand as he draws me back into the hotel and the noise of the crowd. His hand is soft and warm, but his grip is firm.

Peter holds my hand as we make our way back to the small table in the quiet corner that is, by some miracle, still unoccupied. I feel overwhelmed by the fresh onslaught of the music and the closeness of the people, but Peter’s hand anchors me and calms my racing heart.

When he moves to let our grip drop, I tighten my own grip slightly to keep the contact between us. Peter turns and smiles at me reassuringly and lets his hand remain in mine. “It’s getting late enough that you can escape with good grace soon,” he tells me between tracks.

“Yes, I just need to check up with my friends and then I think I’ll silently disappear. Thank you for your company. I might not have made it this far without you.” I smile at him from under my brow, suddenly a little more shy and very much aware of my hand still in his.

“You’re welcome. I’ve enjoyed the evening more than I expected to, thanks to you. Can we exchange contacts?”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

<Nexima, exchange contacts with Peter, please.>

<Exchange confirmed, Nick>

“I’d better check on Sara, she seems to still be on her own. I’ll message you, Nick.” He stands slowly and backs away, our hands finally drawing apart.

“Thanks for looking out for me Peter. Goodnight.”

The party seems to be winding down now anyway, some people have already left and the crowded dance-floor seems to be thinning out. Tasha wanders over and flops into a chair, clearly exhausted.

“Oh My God, Nick!”

“What now?”

“Did I see you holding hands with Peter Corlett.”

“Well… He was just helping with my anxiety. There’s nothing in it. Anyway, didn’t I just see you slow dancing with Jack and grinding with him.”

“No. Okay, maybe a little bit. I didn’t know how nice he actually is. Did you know he liked me?”

“Well, he may have mentioned it very recently. He was keeping his distance because he thought that you and I…”

“Eww… That’s gross!”

“Yes, that’s what I told him. I explained exactly why you’re not my type, well gender.”

“Okay, so you’re doing the coming out thing then?”

“Looks like it. Just taking it one day at a time. I’ve had enough of this day though. Are you ready to head home?”

“I am, but would you be bothered if I let Jack take me home?”

“Oh, hell no! I was in the mood to walk some more, so I’ll take a slow stroll back. Don’t do anything too sexy on a first date!”

“It’s not a date, but I did wonder if I might get a kiss out of him.”

“Well, I think you might if you play your cards right. Have a great evening and thanks for bringing me to the party. I think it has been good for me.”

“Yes, I think that might just be the case. Goodnight Nick.”

“Goodnight Tasha.”