“You should’ve told me you were allergic to coffee, Jed!” Vanessa exclaimed, shaking her head slightly. The two of them had just checked the menu, only to discover a tragedy: Jed was allergic to almost everything this coffee shop had to offer. Even the items he could stomach were prepared next to products that would most certainly send him into anaphylactic shock. So, no luck. “I would've chosen somewhere that wasn’t a coffee shop, duh!”

As Vanessa spoke, she clicked her watch on and set an alarm for one hour from now; it was already 5PM and Vanessa still had another very long meeting with a particularly arrogant client. She peered into her cup, making sure the barista got her order right—four shots of espresso, no milk. Yep. Perfect. That would hopefully last her through both the four hour rendezvous with Titan and the hours of paperwork plus branding she still had to do for her three clients. So. Much. Work.

Jed could see the stress suddenly creeping onto her face. Before he could attempt to bring it up and ask if anything was wrong, Vanessa spoke up again, eager to continue their scheduled debrief (and possibly end it early).

“I know your practice today lasted forever, but don't worry. This is the only day Amon's allowed to hold you hostage for the full six. Starting tomorrow, he only gets two mandatory hours. Then, if I don't need you, and he doesn't need you, you get the day off!”

Jed nodded, eager to show he was listening.

“But, listen, Jed. You still need to be on call for the next four hours in case we need you. I might call you to do another shoot, or Amon might think you need more training."

“That’s fine.” Jed felt a wave of relief wash over him. Okay, awesome. Finally, they were about to really get this ball rolling. Harvey had graciously agreed to spot him his half of the rent this month while Jed sorted out his bracket stuff, so any talk of payment was good talk. Briefly, Jed thought about how he’d budget his first check—a third would go to his roommate for last month's rent, another third to this month's rent, and then the rest was destined to unfortunately be used on Jed's stupid, expensive, specialized bird groceries. He wished he didn't have to rely on those things.

Vanessa’s declaration interrupted his day dream. “Treat this like an interview, okay? I’m going to ask you a couple random questions, and then we’ll get into the nitty-gritty.”

Jed nodded, not sure what that last phrase meant.

“So, tell me about yourself! Where did you work before this? What made you want to fight?”

“Oh, um… well, I worked in a call center.” He hated sharing that. “Nights. It was awful. So I joined this and then I quit.”

Vanessa laughed at the notion of Jed in a call center. He was tall, with huge wings, and stark white hair. Why not be an athlete? Or a model? Unless... Vanessa wondered if those professions were even lucrative here in the outer city.

“And, um.. I wanted to fight because I just… I wanted to prove I could do my own thing and be special. I wanted to make a name for myself.” As he spoke, Jed watched Vanessa diligently copy everything down. Each word he said was documented, and its solidification into her notebook made him suddenly very nervous. Was she going to be using that to brand him? The thought of his old boss chasing him down to pay for computer damages once he figured out Jed was making some good money momentarily crossed his mind—ugh.

“Oh, I totally feel that. Do something extreme to get everyone’s eyes on you—a tried and true business tactic.” She closed her notebook and looked up at him. “I did that too!”

“Oh, really?” That was strange. Vanessa was already so… compelling. Why would she need to do something extreme? “What did you do?”

“Something totally controversial. I spliced my DNA. Cosmetically!” She waited for the usual coos that came from her impressed Inner City friends, but received none.

Despite his silence, Jed’s interest was piqued. He looked at her, brows furrowed in aggravated disbelief. “Why?”

That, Vanessa noted, seemed to strike an unusual nerve with him. “Because I wanted to?” She met his gaze, realizing Jed didn’t seem satisfied with that non-answer.

They stared at one another in silence for the next few seconds, the reality of their differing perspectives coming momentarily up to the surface.

Vanessa lived in an area that had all but shunned genetic modifications. Everything was built for your average man to survive without extensive DNA altering—which meant, when someone did decide to splice, it was on their own terms. For Jed, though, it wasn’t a choice he got to make. And for the people born in the Outer City, the decision was similarly involuntary. The Outer City was rough, built around violence, with an economy dependent on entertainment through genetic modification. You couldn't survive if you didn't enhance yourself, causing a vicious, unbreakable cycle of parents forcing it on their children.

“Why… would anyone want to do that?” Jed hated his birth parents for the joke they turned his existence into, but the one thing he did inherit from them was their innate distrust of the government’s choices concerning human genetic modification. Everything would be better if everyone was just expected to be themselves. "That's dumb."

Vanessa wasn't exactly sure how to answer his question at first—dumb?

I'm not stupid. That choice totally skyrocketed my career. If I didn't make that decision, he wouldn't have even gotten past the entry fee. Jed should be thanking me.

She rolled her eyes and, deciding the best way to guarantee Jed would be open to answering personal questions later on was to divulge a little of her own past as well.

“Jed, babes, where I’m from, the creative scene is, like, super cutthroat. It’s a struggle to distinguish yourself. So, I just had to do something that was guaranteed to turn some heads! I curated my very own DNA-based masterpiece. I chose a butterfly, obviously—I mean look at my name—and then I carefully crafted every scale, pattern, and iridescent shimmer. To put it all together, I used myself as the canvas thanks to the gift of a little surgical enhancement. And then, voila! My art was forever ingrained inside of me, and my wings could sit nice and comfortably against my back. I don't even have to show them off if I don't want to!”

Jed's upper lip curled up and his nose crinkled as a low "tsk" of disapproval escaped his throat.

“When people saw how dedicated to my craft I was… how much I believed in the value of my own work, they started taking me seriously.” Vanessa took a deep breath; Now she was the uncomfortable one. Jed did a great job at looking judgemental. “Plus, I wasn’t anything special before. Maybe my designs were interesting, and maybe I had an eye for things, but I wasn’t anything impressive. I needed something to get people to notice me first.”

“I don't see how having butterfly wings makes you special.” Jed said, finally meeting her gaze.

Vanessa found that last remark a bit insensitive, whether he meant it that way or not. She was special. People threw themselves at her feet, begging for her to represent them! What did Jed know about that stuff, anyways? Vanessa cleared her throat. It was time to move on from this topic.

She opened up her notebook once more, and Jed watched her flip through it, passing the page she had been working on the other day at the sign up table, before landing on something titled Icebreakers in a fancy script font. Above it, the 2073 list had grown to triple what it was when she had initially added him to it. Were those all the people she was working with?

“Last question.” She scanned the page, looking at each of the possible things she could ask. Jed definitely saw a few he hoped she’d never land on. “Tell me, how did you end up where you are now?”

“I’m not answering that.” Jed looked around the room. “There are people here. I don't want them to hear.”

Vanessa leaned across the table, getting closer to Jed. She rested her chin on her hand, and looked up at him expectantly. “Then whisper it.”

Jed stared at her, disappointed and hoping she’d reconsider, but, as expected, she didn’t. “I said I had to get to know you. Not your favorite color, or your favorite season, but you. I can’t design around someone I’ve never met.”

He sighed.

Vanessa didn’t seem like someone he couldn’t trust, so Jed began. “My parents were geneticists from the inner city. They worked for the DNA splicing sector.” He watched as Vanessa started scribbling it all down. “Apparently, one day they decided they were not for it anymore, and to rebel, they made me. I was a…” Jed looked up, trying to figure out the right words to say. Vanessa’s incessant writing made him nervous. He didn’t want to slip up. What if he misremembered something? “…symbol of 'peace.' I was made from a dove, and given to the outer city. You know—the place notorious for violence.”

“Given to the outer city?” Vanessa interjected, sounding very, very confused. That could mean a lot of things.

“Uh,” Jed said, his face suddenly feeling a little hot—talking about his feelings and his life was embarrassing enough; Now she was prodding him? Absent-mindedly, he took her straw wrapper and started ripping it to relieve his nerves as he spoke. “I mean like, given to the system. I was a foster kid.”

“Did you get adopted? Who took care of you here?”

“Not permanently. I drifted from foster family to foster family until I grew out of the system.” He avoided eye contact, staring at her drink instead. “I was a bad kid. I didn’t get a high school diploma, and I got stuck working a dead end job with no social life because of it. And that’s…” he finished ripping up the paper straw wrapper. “It.”

“Why would they put you in the system if they wanted to use you as a symbol?” She questioned, again. Her tone was too matter-of-fact for Jed’s sudden rawness, which made him get defensive.

Quickly, he, quite uncomfortably, said, “They wanted to see how this city would treat something that was totally helpless.”

“I see.” Vanessa wrote some more stuff down.

Jed felt sick. He didn’t like talking about this. He didn’t want it recorded.

“But you aren’t totally defenseless, right? You’re able to fight.”

Jed opened his mouth, about to bring up his hollow bones predicament, but stopped himself. That was something he didn’t want written down—he couldn’t risk her knowing. Not that he believed she’d use it against him but, considering how many other clients she was juggling, and how inexperienced he already was, the thought of her finding out he could die if he actually did get punched convinced Jed she’d void his contract right away, no questions asked.

So, anxious for this line of questioning to end, lest his big secret was revealed, Jed answered: “You’re right.”

His short reply made Vanessa realize that maybe this was a little too hard for him—the way she had been reacting to the things he was saying was, in all honesty, a bit interrogative. But that’s just the way business worked. It’s nothing personal. She closed her book and softened her expression. Jed noticeably relaxed his very tense shoulders at that.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for listening. And, um. I just want you to know… I didn’t mean you weren’t special. You are. I just meant, I…” Jed grimaced, hoping this would come out right. “I didn’t even know you did your whole wings thing, and I still thought you were special. You didn’t need them to stand out.”

“Oh, really? What about me stands out, then?” She grinned, fishing for compliments.

“Um! Everything.” Jed met her eyes, animated. “I think… well. You noticed me. You thought I had potential. You made me feel good about myself. I…” He placed a hand on hers and Vanessa was taken aback by his boldness—for someone so blue, his hand was very warm. “I’ve never met anyone like that before. It’s really… um. It’s selfless.”

Vanessa removed her hand at the strange wording of his compliments, catching a flicker of something in Jed’s eyes. Oh no. It was happening again—Jed was falling into the all-too-familiar-pattern that most of her clients eventually succumbed to. Vanessa decided to stop it while there was still time. Once he fully hoisted her up on that pedestal, it was over. “Oh, Jed, babe. I’m not sweet for doing that. It’s my job. But I’m happy you feel that way!”

“Yeah, it’s your job! Which is why it’s so selfless!” Jed insisted, his eyes searching hers. His sudden change in demeanor startled Vanessa, the weight of his admiration pressing taut against her. “You change lives. You chose to work in a job where all you do is help people. That’s selfless. ”

At that, her alarm began beeping. Awkwardly, she stood up, gathering her things. Jed was feeling frazzled—he just spoke from the heart and now she was ignoring him! What about his plan?!

“We can talk about this more another time, okay, but Jed, please remember: I just help market you. You’re the person in charge of making a difference in your life—and I’m totally rooting for you!”

“But you… picked me.” Jed wanted to reach out and touch her hand again, but faltered.

“That’s true! But we only met because you signed up for something, silly!” Jed’s slew of compliments forced Vanessa to face one of her awkward realities; there were lots of ethical issues present with her occupation, specifically the fact that she took pride in getting a work visa to visit the extremely underprivileged Outer City and hand pick a few ‘lucky’ people to give the gift of unimaginable wealth and recognition out of all the other equally hard working citizens here. She flinched at the thought of it. Ugh. Now she’d be staying up all night reconsidering her business model.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Vanessa finally met Jed’s earnest look. She felt another twinge of guilt. Shame welled up in her as she suddenly became very aware of the fact she had a driver and a nice sports car, all paid for from the money she made branding outer city individuals.

“Not today! Tomorrow, okay? I have to run.” She replied, practically out the door.

“Okay, um… see you tomorrow, I guess.” Jed watched her jump into the backseat and speed away.

That didn’t go so great.