Dear Wattpad,
This book is a sneak peak into how my brain works. Full disclosure: it does get a little weird up there sometimes. Mostly just ideas and fanfiction that I don't have plans for but wanted to write down. So . . . yeah. In order from olde...
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Description:
Reality Morphed by the cyberworld, changed by it, reliant on it. What would you do if someone gave you the keys to controlling it? Well, that's what Fletcher did, he gave those keys to the entire population . . . through a videogame. Guess whose coming after him? Pretty much everyone. Luckily he's got a few allies of his own. Cyber Created by reality, changed by it, lives off it. Would you protect it if you lived in it? Cirron, Cato, and Calix are about to find out. But with their maker in danger, can they sacrifice everything to come to his aide. To be his allies when he gave them the job of defending the key that could destroy all they've ever known. Can they risk it?
***
It was extremely late at night; the room was as dark as the sky was outside. The only light came from the screen of a homemade laptop and a small cheap desk lamp that illuminated the laptop's keyboard. The computer's back was covered in children's stickers—particularly Lightning McQueen and Captain America—and had neon purple duct tape around one corner. A black mug with a chip in the handle and big white blocked words saying 'Worlds Best Grandma' with grandma grossed out and 'HACKER' written over it in red sat on a marble coaster at a precarious distance from the computer.
The so called 'hacker' took one hand off the keyboard and—with practiced movements—effortlessly began typing with his single remaining hand without missing a beat. He needed to stay awake in order to finish the program. So, before he had picked up where he left off hours earlier, he had mixed himself a large pot of pure black caffeinated coffee . . . and drank half of it, a teenager's gonna do what a teenager's gotta do. The remains of that pot were now contained within the mug that he slowly raised to his lips. The coffee was scalding and harsh against his tastebuds, helping to keep him awake.
The teenager behind the screen was a good looking and attractive young man. Sharp intelligent copper eyes looked out from behind black brow-rimmed glasses that labeled him a nerd. He was sharply dressed—well, sort of. He wore a neon blue hoodie under a black leather jacket. His slicked back onyx hair made him look somewhat like an extra in The Outsiders.
It was clear that he usually took better care of himself than he was now as he was clean shaven, nearly completely acne free, worked out somewhat regularly though was still scrawny, and his hair was as glossy as the color made it sound. Despite the bad-boy-nerd type look, he had a kind face with a mischievous smile that almost screamed prankster.
However, the last couple days had taken their tole upon him. There were deep bags under his slightly bloodshot eyes, caused from stress, lack of sleep, more caffeine than was healthy, and rubbing his eyes when the screen started to burn them. His clothes were mussed as he had slept in them whenever he couldn't keep himself awake and woke up fifteen minutes later to continue working. It was unfortunate that a face such as his was marred by a haggard look as he focused intently on the code he was writing.
The program was the only thing that mattered.
It had become something of an obsession since he realized the capabilities of what it could do and made the conscious decision to hide it however he was able. If he was still kicking afterward, there'd be time to properly care for his body but right now it just couldn't be helped.
