[i][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxPbfvG_gH8]I’m a rockstar, I’m a dealer[/url][/i]

“Seventy-two…”

[i]I’m a servant, I’m a leader[/i]

“Seventy-three…”

[i]I’m a saviour, I’m a sinner, I’m a killer[/i]

“Seventy-four…”

[i]I’ll be anything you want me to be[/i]

The sudden sound of a click echoed through the nearly empty basement room, the once heavy bass and tendrils of the even heavier guitar lines abruptly stopped, leaving only the grunting sound coming from a male as he continued his seventy-fifth upside-down vertical sit up from a bar he had set up in the middle of the room. The shirtless male arched his back, putting his body in an awkward looking bended shape as his bright golden eyes pierced the dark green eyes of his cousin.

“How about a maid? You’ve let my place go to shit.” The cross looking woman said folding her limber arms across her chest, looking up at the male with a dissatisfied expression.

The vertical position of the male forced the sweat from his legs to trickle up his flexed torso, up his neck and up to the very top of his head where it continued to drip off of him as he stared the female down. With an agitated sigh, he bent his torso up, practically folding his body in half as his fingers nimbly worked the metal restraints that had been clasped over his bare ankles, thus releasing the hold on him. With somewhat of a back-flip, the male fell to the floor deftly on the balls of his feet, bending at the knees to soften the blow some. He slowly straightened his back up, vertebrae by vertebrae until he was standing at his full six feet, two inches and ran his hand through his mess of sweaty hair. The sides of his head were shaved, leaving just a thick strip on the top of his head of hair to grow. Sure he could have put it into a mohawk if he wanted to, but that just wasn’t his style. He preferred the messy mop look. Hell, even if he wanted to try a different hairstyle, it was practically impossible for him to grow any hair on the left side of his head. A thick scar reaching from the back of his head wrapped around the top of his head, cutting just into the top of his eyebrow. It was a scar that probably should have had medical treatment, but instead was healed on its own, therefore still looking very raw despite the fact that he received the scar nearly a year ago. If only the memories of how he came to have that scar healed on their own too...

Approaching the woman with his chest heaving as the sweat dripped down his body in the normal way now. He reached over the female’s shoulder, keeping his eyes on her and pushed the play button on his [url=http://img534.imageshack.us/img534/7044/musicplayer2.jpg] Blender Lite music player[/url], the Ozzy Osbourne song picking right up where it had left off just moments ago before the female had turned it off. A bright red light emitted from the music player, and with a few clicks on some buttons, a 3-D female dancer, nude, appeared in the air above the music player and started pole dancing to the beat of the music. The female glanced at the virtual stripper that was at least six times smaller than life-size and shook her head.

“Classy.”

“I told you not to interrupt me when I’m training.” The male’s voice said gruffly, a calloused tone in his natural voice sounding like he had been gargling rocks his whole life.

“Don’t be a twat Deon, I let you live here remember?” The female sighed. “Besides, I only came down here to remind you that I’m going to be gone this evening. I have a meeting I need to go to about project X-95.3. See there might have been some malfunction therefore we might have to do a total recall-“

“Kate.” Deon interrupted her, rolling his eyes. “I don’t care.”

Kate narrowed her already small eyes at her cousin, her middle finger subtly itching to flip him off.

“Just remember to not piss off A.D.A.M. again, I’m not about to leave my meeting just because you’ve been stuck with a neo-tranque dart again.”
Deon scoffed, picking up a dirty white rag from the floor and used it to wipe the sweat from his neck.

“You talk about that stupid program like it's alive. It's really kinda creepy...” Deon countered but then waved Kate off before she could remark back at him. “But yeah, yeah, you got it. No problems from me. Besides, I work tonight, won’t be home until your hitting your snooze button.”

“Yeah, work.” Kate scoffed, unable to help rolling her eyes as she turned to head back up the stairs to the main part of her loft. 

Deon finished wiping down his neck and glanced up at the neon colored digital clock on the wall. The entire basement of his cousin's loft had been transformed into his own living space. It was dark, musty, unfinished…reminded him of his own room back in the fourteenth district actually, so he didn’t mind. He didn’t have time to start up another rep so he moved to his bathroom where he did a quick rinse down and dressed in new clothes of a beat-up looking grey wife-beater and a pair of black baggy cargo pants.

Moving over to where his mattress lay in the middle of the floor, he scooped out his sunglasses and headed up and out of the loft to the garage where he mounted his brand new, top-of-the-line[url=http://cache.desktopnexus.com/thumbnails/201936-bigthumbnail.jpg] motorcycle[/url]. Pressing his thumb to the sensor bar, it whirred to life and Deon was off to ‘The Spit.’