In a futuristic society where people are differentiated and valued based on the purity of their genes, can a person define for themselves who they really are? Or does The Gene Test provide the answer for them?
Depression... Addiction... Criminality...
First day of work since he got his upgrade to a new post, and he's already forgotten something? And not just anything — his anger-suppressant pills. He doesn't need them all the time, but when he's on the job, he doesn't want to take anything chances, especially being around all those prissy and pompous Perfects who are bound to set anyone off even without any anger issues.
I throw on a loose blouse, skinny jeans and trench coat, and grab my dad's pills from his bedside drawer. I fill a hot flask with freshly-brewed coffee, and make my way out the front door.
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***
"You should be more careful next time, Dad," I chide him lightly, "you should always keep some extra pills in your bag, in case of emergencies. What if I'm not awake the next time you call? That would be a disaster—"
"Yes, yes, I got it." He chuckles. "I'm sorry, darling. I'll remember to do it as soon as I get home from this shift."
"Don't worry, I already did." I pass him a slim black pouch. "Keep this on you at all times. This is your emergency stash. And for tonight..." I reach into my bag and fish out the packet containing three pills, trying not to be too obvious as I place it into his hands.
It's not like this is illegal or anything, but apparently his superior of this new post doesn't know of his condition yet. My dad does his job well, that's why out of all his colleagues he was the one selected to be upgraded to this more important position of guarding a prestigious company headed by a Perfect, but still, most people can't look past the words printed across his records. Luckily, besides noting him as a Normal, this superior didn't look into the specifics of his condition. I guess anger issues and security guarding aren't really meant to mix.
Well, by the time they find out, my dad would've done his job so well that they couldn't find any way to fault him for his condition.
I pass him the hot flask filled with coffee. "It's cold out tonight. Make sure to keep warm, and don't fall asleep on the job!"
He pats my head with a chuckle and says goodbye to me before returning to his post.
I begin to walk down the pavement towards the bus stop when a cold hand clasps over my wrist and drags me to the bushes. My eyes widen in alarm and I instinctively twist out of the grip, flinging the hand off me and spinning around to face the owner.
I'm greeted by Kera's furious scowl. "This is an expensive manicure! If you chip it, you're gonna have to compensate me and I'm sure you won't be able to afford it."
I roll my eyes. "You're the one who gripped onto me first."
She sneers, scrutinizing me up and down, speaking smugly, "I see your chromosomal mutation kicking in."
My eyes narrow in confusion. "What?"
"Nothing," she sniggers.
"Look, Kera. It's getting late, and I need to be home soon..."
"Ah, I see, so you snuck out of the house to do your dealings?"
"My dealings?" I spit out incredulously.
"You think I don't know what's going on here?" She gleams with self-content. "This whole drug ring you're partaking in. Is that how you're paying for your school fees?"
Something hot and bitter boils in my stomach, then shoots up my throat, turning to flames on my tongue, "Listen here, princess. I may not have been born straight into a life where everything is served to me on a silver platter so I never have the need to develop any real brains or skills to get a job by my own merit, or even work a single day in my entire predestined existence, but I at least know right from wrong, which is more than I can say for you."
"I guess the both of us have different ideas of right and wrong, since in my dictionary 'right' doesn't allude to meeting strangers at night and smuggling them pills," she says presumptuously, cocking her head to the side.
I clench my teeth together and flutter my eyelids close. I really don't feel like having to explain anything to this royal bitch, but I guess if it will shut her up...
My eyes pop open and glare straight into her green ones.
"That 'stranger' is my father, and those 'drugs' are anger-suppressant pills prescribed by the government. So if you want to report anyone here, you can try to put the entire Ministry of Genetic Supervisory behind bars," I speak lowly, eyes flashing. Her smile drops, and her face begins to contort into one of anger. "If not, why don't you go back to your party? I'm sure the hosts are missing you."
Kera huffs, clearly bitter at having her chance at screwing me over being shot down, but she still tries to reclaim dominance in the situation by sticking her nose in the air and acting haughty, "Please, I am a host of this party. I can enter and leave whenever I want."
Those words set me aback. My eyes blink a few times as I process what she just said. "Wait, this event is hosted by Rosamund Technologies?"
"By the Rosamund-Crawford alliance. Twice the name, twice the money, twice the power."
I swallow nervously. "Craw... Crawford?" I say almost as a whisper. "So that means Ster—"
"Yes, Sterling's in there too. I'm sure you can't wait to see him! I hear you two have become very close lately. You've somehow managed to bewitch him into thinking you're actually worth his time..."
Her eyes suddenly light up as something clicks in her head, and her evil grin widens. "But if that was your father, that must mean that he works for the Rosamund-Crawford alliance. And basically, that would mean that..." She takes a step closer so that there's only one foot of distance between us, and she brings her face in close to mine menacingly. "Our family owns yours."
I don't break my gaze with her, but something in my stomach drops and shatters into a million tiny pieces, piercing my insides. I feel sick.
I knew that Sterling was in a league completely separate from mine, but I didn't realize just how distinct this disparity was. Imagine what his father would say if he found out that his son, heir to a multi-billion-dollar business conglomerate, spent his Friday nights fraternizing with the daughter of one of the company's mere nameless night-shift security guards. Sterling may not care, but I don't want to have to carry the mental burden of being the reason for a rift between father and son. And that's just the minor issue of this whole situation.
There's a much more pressing and harrowing problem which stands right in front of me in the form of a blonde ghoul in a designer dress that probably costs more than my house. Kera Rosamund, my arch-nemesis and possibly the worst human being I know, has jurisdiction over my father's job, and has the power to take it away if she feels like it. That is possibly the scariest prospect I can ever fathom in my eighteen-year existence. And by the poisonous undertone lacing her words, that was definitely just a threat.
This... This means that... from now on... I have to do what she says, in order to save my father's job.
She slowly raises her hand towards mine, and, swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I'm forced to take it. My trembling hand moves up and takes hers in a cold handshake. Her hand tightens around mine until her nails are digging into my skin. I wince but keep my mouth glued shut.
