Machine | Mars Argo and Titanic Sinclair

o n e

C O R E Y ' S P O V

(A/N: I've went back and edited this chapter because I want this story to be as good as possible).

After throwing my suitcase on the bed, I dashed down the stairs with a tight, exotic feeling in my stomach. I don't know why, but I was just so excited.

Well, actually.

I do know why.

After being away for what seemed like a month (It was really only a week and a half) I finally get to see Brittany (my best friend).

It hasn't been terribly long, but the last time it's been this long was when I was 10 and I was playing around on the sidewalk and some stray dog started running for me. I attempted to pet it, but the dog violently bit my arm. I ended up in the hospital for 11 days, having to get stitches and get treated for an infection.

Brittany had wished to visit me, but her parents think I'm a bad influence with no genuine purpose for life and that I just simply sit around all day watching tv. They believe I'm a "lazy broke outcast who will never succeed much other then maybe getting a girl pregnant at 16." Her parent's words. Not mine.

Brittany said the entire time I was gone she cried herself to sleep and sat alone at lunch. Something to take note of is that Brittany is very popular at school. So people were taken back at the thought of Brittany Sheets sitting alone.

While we were only in fifth grade, we still have the kids classified into specific groups in our heads by kindergarten. The only difference is that as a younger kid, you don't classify yourself. Yet in fifth grade, you're very sure of how you look at the people in your class and you're (most of the time) sure of who you are. People don't think about it as much when you're younger, but you get a decent idea from seeing all those "influential" pop stars and models.

Another thing I would like to point out is that an attachment to being rich is being popular, and Brittany's family is quite wealthy.

At school, I'm well known by some kids, but I'm also kind of looked down on by some others. I'm a decent guy to many, but I'm also known as the guy who's known for being obnoxious and careless. But I'm also known as being the nerd who likes making weird videos. People have very mixed opinions, but overall I'm well liked.

But something that especially tends to piss me off is when people make fun of the fact that I'm in Film Club (or geeky science fiction lovers club as some refer to it as. I find this insightful because there are many different ways that you can make a video other then having cool spacey effects and a cheap green screen). I don't understand what's so wrong about liking to express your thoughts through the endless possibilities of a video. I like making videos. That should be cool to people.

You can do anything you want with a camera. You can do anything you want with a video. You can manipulate it to give it a whole new vibe. That's what I like about it. There's no limits to what you can do. Because it just records what you do. And people do a lot of things. I don't really know how to explain it. But it makes sense in my head.

The only limit of a video or a camera is what isn't recorded. There are so many things that happen that you can't see behind the camera. People are being fake for not only the camera sometimes, but in real life, too. They aren't just smiling and being dumb in a video. They're in the modern world, standing in front of a virtual world. And they're faking their real world. You can never tell what's real because a video is just fake from the beginning. It's nothing more than millions, if not, billions of pixels creating different pictures that are smoothly and quickly processed and played.

Again, I don't know exactly how to explain it, but it makes sense in my head.

I've always thought of being a director. You can make your ideas come to life, you know?

But anyway, I grabbed a dog treat out of the hidden cabinet in the kitchen and began walking out of the house, heading towards Brittany's house, which is a few blocks away. I bought a bag of treats for the stray dog that bit me that one time. Sure, it sounds obscure. But to be honest, she's growing on me. She must be living a difficult life all alone.

As I'm walking, I see the dog aimlessly walking down the sidewalk.

I pet the brown dog with a white pattern and gently scratch behind her ear.

"Sit," I hold the treat down. She sits down obediently as her tongue swings in the air from panting so much. It's typically not very hot out, but today it's pretty weird.

"Shake," the dogs paw lands in my palm. "Good girl," I smile and drop the treat in her mouth. I play around with her for a bit and continue walking. I eventually make it to Brittany's street. I saw her peeking through the window, and I guessed that she was looking for me, because as soon as we made eye contact, her cheeks got red and she dropped the blinds. I smirked and continued walking until I reached her door. I don't bother to knock, because her parents could answer and I would not enjoy having to confront them.

I turn the handle and cautiously open the door. Thankfully, there is no sign of her parents sitting on the couch sipping wine and talking business shit.

I walk up the stairs and see Brittany's door wide open.

Her head jerked to my direction.

"Corey!" she exclaimed excitedly and ran to me. She threw her arms over my shoulders and jumped up, wrapping her legs around me. I laughed. "I missed you so much!"

"Me, too," I said as I held her.

"You're face is getting red again," she giggled.

"Is not!" I blushed harder.

"Aw, Corey's blushing," she smirked. "Take me to the bed!" she freed an arm from my shoulder and pointed to her bed.

"Yes ma'am," I carried her over to her large bed. It had a white painted frame and soft, clean white sheets perfectly tucked around it with a maroon comforter draped over it.

I dropped her on the bed, but she still held onto my shoulders, forcing me to fall down with her.

"So. How was the trip?" she asked as she twirled a strand of curly hair.

"It fucking sucked," I complained.

"I thought your parents said it would be the highlight of your family bonding," she said, adopting a confused and mocking tone.

"Well. If you consider your parents fighting constantly in a tiny hotel room with nothing to do for a whole week, then yeah. Guess it was."

"What the hell did you do, then?"

"I just wondered the city with ten bucks in my pocket."

"That sucks. But now you're here," she wrapped her arms around me and kissed my cheek. Seems a little out of place for a friend to do, but I brush it off. It was just a simple kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah. I guess I am."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned me.

"It means that sometimes none of this feels real to me. Feels like I'm floating, you know?"

"I think you're just high all the time."

"Well, yeah. That too. But, I'm being serious. It just feels weird."

"Yeah. But everything is weird."

"Yeah. Even you," I smirked and began to tickle her.

"Have mercy!" she screamed and giggled endlessly.