We Make Mayhem [boyxboy]

Chapter Four

Ambleside Park is the most beautiful place in the world. Just behind Park Royal, the luxury mall at the heart of West Vancouver, was a sprawling park with trails, playgrounds, sports grounds, and a prestine beach. From Ambleside, you can see the Lion's Gate Bridge spanning the Burrard Inlet, connecting West Van to downtown Vancouver. Across the inlet is Stanley Park and the famed Seawall. Every time I go, I remember just how lucky I am to live here.

A couple days after the march, Chloe and I ate a picnic lunch in the park and walked the wooded trail to the beach. I set up our umbrella and towels and after a short time frolicking in the ocean, we laid down to sunbathe. The wind off the sea mitigated the sun's heat, and the crest of each choppy wave sparkled like a diamond as the sunlight danced over it. Paradise.

Once we were out of the water and lounging on our towels, Chloe sighed.

"I just don't get it," she said, sitting cross-legged on her towel, scooping up sand and letting it fall between her fingers. "How can people put their marriages in jeopardy like that? Just... open an app and fuck everything up?"

Ever since we had returned from San Fancisco, Chloe hadn't talked about anything but Temptr. This wasn't entirely new—it had been our main subject of conversation since we started the podcast—but now, with my parents engaged in a stony, silent stalemate at home, her constant prodding felt like it was starting to bruise.

I still hadn't told her about them.

"I don't know," I said automatically.

"Maybe the real question is, how can they believe it? An app gives you a name and tells you that's your soulmate, and often it's someone you know personally... like, with the amount of corporate espionage we know is happening, how do people not see that Temptr is just a spying corporation owned by a provocateur asshole who wants to set the world on fire?"

"Mmm."

"Like, how is any of this controversial? How is it that my mentions are full of people ranting about how wrong I am, that Temptr is some magical creation, that people should just suck it up when their spouses leave them? Like, how can—"

"Chloe," I interrupted, "we shit-talk Temptr all day, every day. Can we please talk about something else?"

Chloe blinked and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Um..."

I didn't know if her "um..." was just a reaction to my outburst or her searching for something to say.

Maybe we had nothing else to talk about.

"Look," I said. "We're going to graduate in less than a year. What are we going to do? Don't you think we should talk about that?"

She smiled, but she didn't say anything.

"What do you want to do?" I asked. "What are your dreams? Who do you want to be? Tell me."

Chloe ran her tongue over her teeth. "I want to destroy Temptr."

It was my turn to sigh. I laid down on my towel.

"I'm sick of Temptr," I said.

"I'm sick of divorce and cheating and society falling apart," Chloe said. "Temptr doesn't care that you're sick of it, Riley. It's hurting people."

I knew that—I saw it on my parents' faces every day. But why did it have to seep into every aspect of our lives? If I picked up my phone at that moment and opened Facebook or Twitter or any news app, I would see five news stories about Temptr in as many minutes. If I opened my podcast app, three out of five of my favorite podcasts would be talking about something related to Temptr. A couple walked past us, casting brief shadows on us for a moment. The woman said to the man, "So Tanya finally downloaded Temptr..."