Within minutes, we had reached the gates of Elia's mysterious mansion. 

They stood tall and foreboding against the barren landscape, metallic black and exceedingly intricate. The cobblestone walls to the gate's left and right were topped with decorative cast iron spikes, which only furthered the sterile and terrifying image of her abandoned home. 

Following some brief and barely audible instructions from Elia, our driver rolled down his window, reached out his arm, and punched in some numbers on the code box to the left of our WellRide. I could tell that even he was unsure about entering this place, his hands shaking as he put in the numbers. 

The driver pressed the green enter button and quickly retreated into his car, rolling up his window as fast as he could. Within seconds, the gates ahead of us began to move, the sound of grating metal on pavement filling our ears. It almost sounded like this was the first time these gates had been used in years. 

Our driver shifted the WellRide into gear and slowly drove it through the gates, still clearly nervous about where we were about to enter. 

As we passed through the gates, I kept my gaze fixed on my hands, afraid to look up. 

Elia tapped me on the shoulder, looking at me with concern. 

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," I glanced up from my hands and tried to force a smile. "Just a little nervous, that's all."

I looked out the window. Like outside the gates, the rocky desert around me was harsh and cold, the dark, cloudy sky only further tinting my surroundings a monochrome noir. 

We were now traveling down an old metal railpath, artificial trees and lampposts arranged symmetrically along the glistening gray track. 

It was strange. 

Despite the fake flora, the fixtures didn't feel extravagant. I felt quite the opposite. 

It was almost like the decorator was holding back, like they were trying to make this entryway as bland and people-pleasing as possible. It felt hollow, as if beyond the facade, the entrance gardens lacked a soul. 

The house ahead of us was no different. The black I had spotted earlier appeared gray in the headlights, the house itself only looking bigger. Its design was simplistic, which only amplified its austere and foreboding aura. 

But the house seemed to lack a feeling - the feeling of home. This house was no one's home, or at least not now. It didn't look lived-in.

Our driver quickly drove us to the end of the railpath and stopped within seconds, sending both of us lurching into the front row. He was just as on edge as I was. 

He turned around in his seat and glanced back at us in the second row. 

"Thank you for riding with WellRide," he stated, starting his obviously rehearsed speech to beg us for more money. "I hope you enjoyed your ride this evening. Please feel free to leave a tip if you thought the service exceeded your expectations, and if you liked your ride, leave a review on the app. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!"

The driver unlocked his door and slid out of the WellRide. Then, he walked around the vehicle to open the door for Elia and I, all with a polite smile painted on his face. 

Elia got out first and handed him a freshly pressed twenty, giving him her thanks as she walked towards the mansion's front door. She walked purposefully, her head held high and her spine as straight as a board. 

Even just by looking at her, you could tell she carried herself in a way that signaled to others that she was totally and completely sure of herself and her surroundings. 

Damn, how I wish I were like that. 

Instead, I was stuck with the short, slouchy genes. Even at the young rotation of twenty-two, I was already suffering back pain from my poor posture. And heck, what I wouldn't give to carry myself with the confidence that Elia did. 

I mean, she just seemed to radiate self-assurance. 

She didn't act egotistical too. In fact, it was the opposite. 

For the brief period that I'd known her, she had been nothing but humble, almost to a fault. She always seemed to believe the best in people, even when all signs pointed to them being an awful person. 

During the WellRide I kept wondering what would have happened if I hadn't met Elia. 

Meeting her was lucky for sure, but sometimes, it felt like more than just that. It felt like a divine gift, mercy for the undeserved. 

I must have gotten lost in my thoughts, because the next thing I knew, Elia was right in front of my face, snapping her fingers to try and get my attention. 

I refocused my eyes and looked up at her, confused.

"What's up?"

Elia gestured to the front door, then at my feet. Oh right, I was still in the middle of the metal rail path. 

I briskly walked out of the railpath, muttering a near-silent apology as I stepped over the guard rails. Elia quickly caught up to me, as my short legs were no match for the legs of some long-bodied Gammish. 

I made my way up the polished limestone steps with ease, occasionally looking around at my surroundings and finding the same barren, corporate-feeling scenery as before. This landscape, this house, and even the land itself felt manufactured.

Elia reached the grand double doors entering the mansion before I did and placed two of her hands on both sides of the large, intricate door handles. With a big heave, she pushed open the doors, calling back to me as she did so.

"What do you think?" She shouted, a little out of breath.

I snuck a glimpse of the inside. It was vastly different, with colors other than brown and gray finally being present in the color palette. But most of all, the entrance room had personality - I could feel it. The art, the furniture, the walls - everything seemed to have a story to tell, no matter how grand or minuscule the story was. 

I looked back at her in surprised awe. 

"What?" Elia yelped.

"It looks amazing," I replied, "The inside is just so different from the outside."

She chuckled and grabbed my wrist, pulling me into the mansion.