Newark: Become Human x reader

Chapter 5- The Painter

 Connor arrives at his owner's house. The house belongs to Aiden Gibson. Inside of Aiden's house. 

Alarm: Alarm deactivated. Welcome home, Connor.

Connor goes up to see Aiden. He wakes Aiden up by opening up the blinds.

Connor: Good morning, Aiden.

Aiden: Good morning.

Connor: It's 10AM. The weather's partly cloudy, 54°, 80% humidity, with a strong possibility of afternoon showers.

Aiden: It sounds like a good day to spend in bed...

Connor: I did go to pickup the paint that you ordered.

Aiden: Oh yes, I'd forgotten! That is the difference between you and me, right Connor? You never forget anything...

Connor: Show me your arm please, Aiden.

Aiden: No!

Connor: Aiden... Thank you.

Aiden: I just opened my eyes and I'm already gritting my teeth... Humans are such a fragile machine... They break down so quickly... All this effort to keep 'em going...

Aiden realizes something happened to Connor on the way home.

Aiden: Hey. What happened to your clothes?

Connor: Oh, it's nothing... Just some demonstrators in the street, Aiden... 

Aiden: What a bunch of idiots... They think they can stop progress by roughing up a few androids? I hope they didn't harm you...

Connor: Oh, no, no... They just pushed me around, Aiden. I'm fine.

Connor: Okay. I'll take you to the bathroom now.

After Aiden is done in the bathroom. Connor and Aiden go downstairs.

Aiden: Anything special on the agenda today?

Connor: Yes, there's the opening of your retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art. The gallery director left four messages asking to confirm your attendance.

Aiden: I haven't decided yet. We'll see about that later.

Connor: Okay.

Aiden: What else?

Connor: Just your usual fan mail. I've already answered.

Aiden: Any news from Bruce?

Connor: No, Aiden. I can call him if you like?

Aiden: No. No, don't bother.

Once Aiden and Connor get to the Living Room.

Aiden: I'm starving.

Connor: Well, your breakfast is ready. Bacon and egg just the way you like them.

Aiden: Thank you, Connor.

Connor: You're welcome.

Aiden: Thank you, Connor. Television on.

After Connor served Aiden breakfast.

Aiden: Why don't you find something to do while I finish my breakfast?

Connor: Sure. Okay, Aiden.

Connor watches the TV.

Michael Brinkley - CTN TV: Tensions continue to rise in the Arctic since Russia unilaterally declared the region part of its national territory. Several Russian warships have taken position in the Barents Sea since Saturday and a Russian flag now flies over the ice field. The Russian president, repeated in a speech to the Duma that the Arctic belongs to Russia as a matter of fact. On the other hand, last night the American ambassador again informed an emergency meeting of the UN that the United States would not accept this annexation under any circumstances. Several American destroyers are reported to be headed for the Barents Sea. Douglas Cornwell, Chairman of the UN, announced at a press conference that we have never been so close to a Third World War. He called on Russia and the United States to promptly renew talks before things get out of control. 

Aiden: Television: off. Mankind is so depressing... Nothing but greed, stupidity and violence... 5,000 years of civilization just to get to where we are...

Connor plays the piano. Aiden comes up to him.

Aiden: Something has changed in the way you play... Sometimes I think you have more humanity than most humans...

Connor stops playing the piano.

Aiden: One day, I won't be here to take care of you anymore. You'll have to protect yourself, and make your choices. Decide who you are, and wanna become... This world doesn't like those who are different, Connor. Don't let anyone tell you who you should be. Let's go to the studio.

Aiden and Connor go into Aiden's painting studio. 

Aiden: Let's see where we left off... Remove the sheet!

Once Aiden is done with the painting.

Aiden: So... What's your verdict, Connor?

Connor likes the painting. 

Connor: Yes, there is something about it.

Aiden: Hm...

Connor: Something I can't...quite define. I guess I like it.

Aiden: The truth is I have nothing left to say anymore... Each day that goes by brings me closer to the end... I'm just an old man clinging to his brushes...

Connor: Aiden...

Aiden: But enough about me... Let's see if you have any talent! Give it a try. Try painting something.

Connor: Paint? But, what I... Painting what?

Aiden: Anything you want. Give it a try.

After Connor finishes painting a copied object.

Aiden: That is a perfect copy, of reality. But painting is not about replicating the world, it's about interpreting it, improving on it, showing something you see. 

Connor: Aiden, I don't...think I can do that. It's not in my program... I...

Aiden: Go on, go, try, grab that canvas. Do something for me, close your eyes. Close your eyes. Trust me. Try to imagine something that doesn't exist. Something you've never seen. Now, concentrate...on how it makes you feel...and let your hand drift across the canvas.

After Connor finishes his own painting. Bruce comes in.

Aiden: Oh my God...

Bruce: Hey, Dad.

Aiden: Bruce... I didn't hear you come in...

Bruce: Ah, I was in the neighborhood... I thought I'd stop by... It's been a while, right?

Aiden: You all right? You don't look so good.

Bruce: Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine... Hey listen, uh... I need some cash, Dad.

Aiden: Again? What happened to the money I just gave you?

Bruce: Uh well, it just goes, you know?

Aiden: Yeah... Yeah, you're on it again, aren't you?

Bruce: No, no, no, I swear it's not that...

Aiden: Don't lie to me, Bruce.

Bruce: What difference does it make? I just need some cash, that's all!

Aiden: Sorry...the answer's no.

Bruce: What? Why?

Aiden: You know why.

Bruce: Yeah, yeah... I think I do know why. You'd rather take care of your plastic toy here than your own son, eh? Tell me dad, what's it got that I don't? It's smarter? More obedient? Not like me, right? But you know what? This thing is not your son. IT'S A FUCKING MACHINE!

Aiden: Bruce, that's enough! Enough!

Bruce: You don't care about anything except yourself and your goddamn paintings. You've never loved anyone. You've never loved me, Dad... You never loved me.