Marcus

"Marcus," a familiar feminine voice whispered playfully into my ear, waking me from my sleep. "Wakey-wakey sunshine. We have a big day ahead of us. C'mon, it's time to get up."

I reluctantly opened my heavy lidded eyes. It took me a second to realize I was in the hackerspace. I remember running one Hell of an op last night against Prime_Eight. As usual, it resulted in another big win for DedSec, so I did a little drinking and celebrating with the gang. The rest was a blur. Considering I was lying face down on the couch right now without any recollection of how I fucking got here, last night must had been wild.

Sitara's slender frame crouched before me, her rouged face hovered over mine. I sighed, and slowly reached into my jean pocket, grasping my phone. Good Lord, it was only eight in the morning. Damn, what's a brother gotta do to get a little sleep around here?

"Nuh-uh girl, do you see what time it is?" I grumbled, rolling over. "I'll be up in an hour."

"I wouldn't be waking you up right now if it wasn't important," she sat on the armrest of the couch. "It's about Wrench. He's always here bright and early, right?"

"Uh-huh," I mumbled sleepily.

"But for some reason, he's not here, and he hasn't been responding to my texts or phone calls. He knows how big of a day today is for DedSec. We've finally got Prime_Eight by the balls thanks to that op you ran last night. All that juicy data you stole— it's gonna turn a lot of heads, and net us a shitload of followers. We need all the processing power we can get. But I'm going to need both you and Wrench to help me analyze the data…" She paused to tap my shoulder. "Marcus? Are you even listening to me?"

"Mhmm." My body and mind so desperately needed sleep, it was hard to process a thing she was saying.

"Good. So get off your ass and help me find Wrench."

I yawned and rubbed my eyes, shifting over to face her. God, my head felt like it was about to burst. "He's probably at his garage, girl," I muttered. "As to why he's not answering his phone, I don't know. We all got lit last night, didn't we? Maybe he's still sleeping, or dealing with a meanest fucking hangover like I am right now—"

"Or maybe there's more to it. You of all people should know how complex Wrench can be. I'm worried, Marcus. Can you please just pull yourself together and find him? I need to know he's okay. You two are close. If there's something wrong with him, you're the only one capable of tearing down his walls to find out."

"Alright, alright. Fine." I reluctantly sat up. "But I'm gonna need caffeine, girl. A fuck-ton of it."

---

It was a picture perfect spring day in the heart of San Francisco. The sun's warm rays shined brightly over the busy city, and there wasn't a cloud to be seen in the soft blue sky. Unfortunately, not many were able to enjoy it. People scurried from their homes and walked the streets with purpose, probably heading to work or school. Man, sucks to be them. The thought of doing the same routine shit every day— I couldn't get down with that.

For the first time in a long while, I decided against securing my earbuds into my ears and tuning into music. Instead, I listened to the mellow flow of early morning birdsong as I navigated through the bustling metropolitan streets. The melodious chirping was gentle enough to get a load of despite my headache.

I was nearing Wrench's garage now. I turned from off the noisy concrete sidewalk and into his quiet, heavily graffitied alley driveway. There was the usual group of loiterer's chilling out at the corner of the alley. They were balled up and hugging their knees, their skin hidden behind layers of dirt and grime.

Wrench had to know he had homeless people practically living at his doorstep, they were always there after all. I guess he didn't mind. We both knew how hard it could be trying to keep the lights on and the rent paid in the big city. Shit was getting difficult, especially with Blume monitoring everyone's habits, and selling people's information to the highest bidder. Insurance premiums and mortgage rates would skyrocket for the most trivial fucking reasons. But that was just scratching the surface of it all— Wrench and I saw down to the subliminal shit of Blume's crimes against the people. Their bullshit predictive algorithms being the worst of them all.

It felt shitty to just stroll past the homeless setting up shop here, as if they didn't exist. So I always made sure to grab some pocket change before making the trip here. They beamed at me as I approached, their mucky faces brightening. I handed out all the coins I could scavenge from the depths of my pockets and flashed them a smile. Their chapped lips mouthed a 'thank you'.

I hacked the electronic lock to Wrench's garage and waited patiently for the large white door to lift before strolling inside. The strong scent of motor oil filled my nostrils once I entered. I winced as I gave the place an once-over.

It was much messier than usual. Smashed beer bottles coated the gravelly floor, oil canisters were kicked over, screwdrivers, pliers and other various mechanic tools were thrown about everywhere. Wrench stood before his wooden workbench in the center of the space. Armed with a sledgehammer in hand, he stared blankly at a poor, defenseless drone laid across the bench. It was a perfectly handcrafted piece of tech, branded with our DedSec logo and adorned with high quality cameras.

Despite this, Wrench's tattooed arms raised the sledgehammer high above his head, in preparation to crush the beautifully decorated drone to pieces.

"Hey yo, Wrench!" I called out to him, capturing his attention. "What's good man? What the Hell are you doing?"

"If you must know, M, I'm about to smash this piece of shit quadcopter into a million fucking pieces," he replied. "You're welcome to join the mayhem if you want. I got tons of shit to wreck in here."

"Nuh-uh," I hurried to the precious drone and scooped it into the safety of my arms. "I can't let you do that. This right here is a perfectly functioning piece of DedSec tech, it'd be a waste to destroy it."

"I don't care. I made it, which means I have every right to destroy it if I want, thank you very much."

"But why? What's the point—"

"I'm pissed M, that's the fucking point! When I'm pissed, I break shit. It makes me feel better okay?" Wrench stepped up to me, his LED lights within his mask brightening with two dashes. "The quadcopter, please." He opened his palm to me.

I hugged it closer to me. "B-but…"

"Marcus," he said in an authoritative tone. "Hand it over."

"Fuck it, fine. I'll give you the drone back on one condition."

Two question marks appeared on his mask. "One condition, you say?"

"Instead of resorting to drastic measures, like breaking shit for example— how about you and I just chill and I dunno… talk maybe?" I feigned a smile at him. "I can help you through this if you let me. We can get down to the nitty-gritty of why you're so angry and find a non-violent way of fixing it. Good communication can work wonders dude. Trust me on this."

"Yeah sure," he replied sarcastically. "And here I thought you were just a hacktivist. You're a psychiatrist too?"

"Well, my pretty face can only get me so far man. I gotta be smooth with my words too, and a good listener, you feel me? So yeah, you can add psychiatrist to the list."

"Always so sure of yourself M." He sighed heavily. "Fine, I'll give it a shot. But little did you know," he said, "your pretty face actually does get you farther than you think."

"Aw, aren't you sweet. Now before we start, let's get rid of a few things, shall we?" I grabbed the sledgehammer from his grip, and laid it down on the floor. Next, I clasped his wrist and guided him to the couch, setting the drone aside safely. We faced one another as we sat side by side, our thighs brushing. "Alright man, so tell me what's the matter."

He cleared his throat awkwardly before speaking. "Er, okay… So uh, be honest with me here M. Do you think I'm weird without my mask?"

I furrowed my brows, surprised by his peculiar question. "Uh well, honestly, you are weird, with or without your mask, but in the best way possible. I wouldn't trade it for the world."

"Heh, thanks M," the default X's on his mask were replaced with hearts for a moment before he continued. "You know that chick from 10 Donuts? The one who thought my mask was hot? I told you she and I went on a date to a concert, remember?"

"Yeah, but I thought it was just a fling. Y'all still seeing each other?"

"Actually, we made it official— boyfriend and girlfriend. We've been going strong for a few weeks, under the mutual agreement that we'd take things slow, and everything seemed to be going well. That is, until this morning, when I got blindsided by a three paragraph long break-up text."

"Fuck man," I grimaced. "She broke up with you through text?"

"Yeah, just my luck. Fuck me right?"

"Why did she dump you though?"

He shook his head and gazed downward. "I dunno bro."

"That three paragraph text message she sent had to give you some idea right?" I gripped his studded shoulder lightly. "Dude, you can tell me," I said softly. "I'm here for you man."

A drawn-out sigh escaped him, his stiff muscles losing tension beneath my touch. "She just… doesn't understand me. I'm a completely different person without my mask, M. She wants me to go out in public and make goo-goo eyes with her, and kiss and stuff like normal couples do. But I can't do that shit, it just isn't me. It's hard for her to grasp I think."

"Look man, I hate to break this to you, but if she can't respect your boundaries and accept you for who you are, then she ain't the one."

"I know. You're right. But it sucks. Not because I liked her, I mean, she was okay I guess. Honestly, I think I just liked the company. It blows being alone all the fucking time."

"I feel you. You ain't alone though, you got me. Might not count for much, but it's something."

Wrench laid a hand on my thigh, and squeezed lightly. "No dude, it means a lot. You have no idea." He raised a cautious hand to his mask, and carefully removed it from his face.

A slow smile tugged at my lips, my stomach fluttering as I gazed searchingly into his eyes. His cool, steel gray stare, pale and rimmed with blue, had a deep-set sadness to it. He had the look of a man who's gone through far too much pain and far too much torment in his life. I wanted so badly to ease his burdens, but I didn't know where to start. I knew how difficult it was for him to let down his guard in front of someone else. This was a rare opportunity, and there was no fucking way I'd let it go to waste.

"I want to learn how to be more comfortable around others without my mask," he mumbled flatly. "Not sure if it's even possible, considering how fucked I am. But no one could say I didn't try, right?"

"Nah, nothing is out of reach, so long as you put your mind to it," I replied. "Baby steps man. I mean, this is progress already right? I've only seen you without your mask once, and that's because the fucking feds took it from you."

"I wouldn't call this progress. I'd never willingly let my guard down for anyone else but you. With you, everything's different. I feel like I can be myself. I feel like you aren't judging me."

"Wrench, one day you're gonna wake up and realize you're not as bad as you think you are. You are brilliant man! You're the best engineer I've ever seen, you're also fun as fuck to be around, and most importantly, you're the greatest friend a man could ever ask for. I don't know what kind of shit happened in your past to make you feel otherwise—"

"Marcus," he said, interrupting me. He shifted toward me and grasped my hand, our fingers interlocking. "There's something I've been wanting to do for a long time, so stop your fucking ranting and let me do it."

I swallowed deeply. "A-alright."

Wrench leaned in close, his palm stroked my neck tenderly. Heat rose to my cheeks as his face neared mine. Our lips met in a gentle, clinging kiss. My heart pounded against my chest. I was hesitant to kiss him back due to sheer surprise. I couldn't believe this was happening. It all seemed so fucking sudden and I wasn't necessarily sure how to react or how to feel. Eventually, I was able to calm my nerves and return the kiss, taking in the bitter taste of alcohol on his soft lips.

After a short time, he pulled away, promptly securing his mask over his face. "Okay. I just had to see what it'd feel like."

I blinked. "Uh, cool. And what did you think?"

"Eh," he shrugged his shoulders. "You're not really my type."

"What? I'm everybody's type."

"Nah, you really need to brush up your kissing skills, M."

"Man, fuck you." I grinned. My phone began vibrating in my pocket. I grabbed it and took a glance at it. Sitara was calling. I answered, putting the call on speaker. "Hey, I found Wrench. He's safe and sound."

"That's a relief," she replied. "How is he doing?"

"I'm doing better than ever actually," Wrench exclaimed. "Why? Let me guess, you sent M to check on me, didn't you? Woke him up in the wee hours of the morning with your usual pessimistic, prophet of doom crap, about how I was probably dead in a ditch somewhere because I didn't respond to your text messages. You know Sitara, you don't have to be such a wet blanket all the time—"

"Fuck you Wrench," she grumbled. "I wouldn't worry so much if you didn't always give me a reason to. Now get your asses back to the hackerspace, we have work to do."