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“You can’t smoke that in here,” Todd the owner told him. 

He took in one more inhale of his cigarette and let it rise to the ceiling of the cyber cafe. He slowly put it out on the concrete, using his left leg to kick open the door. Julian gave Todd a look, “Let everyone smoke their fruity flavored embalming fluid in here, but not let someone smoke a regular cigarette. Do you see a problem with that? That’s discrimination on how people want to kill themselves slowly from the inside.”

“You can’t smoke cigarettes indoors anyway,” Todd tells him. 

“You could in the 30s, 40s, even the 60s,” he replies, “What if someone doesn’t wanting to smell someone’s chemical cocktail of just water? Except you wonder how they get those flavors in there. Probably chemicals.”

“Why are you here Julian?” Todd asked.

He points to someone’s his age,“Meeting Chester.”

“It’s Chase,” 

“Chase, I mean,”

Todd raises a brow and says nothing as he slips in as elegantly as a cat who just got struck by a bus, wrapping his arm around Chase who has just bought himself something to drink while working on a computer somewhere around here, Julian smiles at the somewhat chubby kid. He counted, ten, fifteen dollars.

“You could bother to learn my name before asking for my help,” Chase tells him.

“If I bothered to know your name we both would be wearing ankle bracelets,” Julian tells him patting his shoulder, “I counted fifteen dollars you pulled out. Get me something. Pretty please.”

Chase sighs.

“You could be nicer about asking me,” Chase tells him.

“I did, I said pretty please,” Julian replies.

Chase, “Coffee and some snacks?”

“That would be lovely,” Julian tells him, “Where is your computer at?” 

Chase points, “But don’t get on it, You’re not even allowed to get on it.”

“I’m just sitting down, don’t be that way,” Julian slinks over, passing rows of people on computers. Some doing homework. Someone’s playing an online game, probably trying to bypass mom’s watchful eyes. This near a computer was a tempting sin. He isn’t just into computers, as his mother put it. He understood computers. The hum and whine of the fan was near as close as being able to read a human beings emotions. He could vision the binary code passing through the processor and onto the screen. His connection with computers is just as connected as one might be with another human being or an animal hoarder was to an animal. 

He could tell when a piece of electronics was hurt, just in the way it hummed and whine. He could feel when a computer was being pushed to its limits. Forced to power through. He could tell when a system was weak and what system had muscles. It wasn’t just that he liked computers, they were a second being to him. 

His mother didn’t get that. Neither did his father. And he was certain the government would have shipped him off to be part of some experimental project if he told them any of that. He was certain instead of being placed in jail or monitored the way he was now, he could have had a cliche superhero origin story. In his current lexicon of storytelling this was the least impressive. Got arrested. Then was released on house arrest. 

Chase slides the coffee on the table and hands him some chips. 

“Ah thanks,” Julian tells him.

“You didn’t touch the computer?” Chase ask.

Julian nods, “Scouts honor. But I uh have to check up on some emails.”

Julian’s standing up now, to stretch his back. These chairs were mighty uncomfortable. Chase gives him a side glance. 

“I am not falling for that one,” Chase tells him.

“Ah come on,” Julian says standing behind Chase’ chair, “I promise I won’t,” he begins to thrust the back of Chase’ chair, “anyone’s computer.”

“Do you have to make me look like you’re pushing me around?” Chase ask him.

Julian shrugs.

“Let’s face it, you are being push around by me,” Julian pauses, “But that’s because you were too much of a sissy bitch to tell them how I got in the first place. Through your father’s security code.”

Chase face pales. He gets up from his chair quickly and Julian slides into the hot, moist, seat. Fat kid sweat. All right let’s see what is going on in the world. Julian begins to plug in a few keystrokes into the cmd.exe. Chase looks nervous, “You said you were-”

Julian put a fingers to chase lips, “Sssssh. I said I wasn’t going to fuck someone’s system over. I didn’t say I wasn’t doing something naughty.”

Running through the command prompt, throwing in a line of statistical algorithmic code, he was in his own backdoor. Time to plot for the next big plan.

“If the cops arrest me,” Chase mumbles.
“Misery loves company,” Julian tells him, “You can come over to my house and sleep in my bedroom. We can play prison mates.”

“I hate you,” Chase says weakly.

Oh trust me, I hate you more.