“Seen it a hundred times.” She set down her rag. “What’ll it be, new guy?”
“First thing,” he muttered to himself. “Find the apartment.”
Leo buried his face in his hands. The coffee steamed against his palms. “Great. Perfect. Fantastic start.”
She poured the coffee—thick as mud, dark as a bad mood. “You’re on it.” New in City -v0.1- By DanGames
He looked left. A woman in a business suit power-walked past him like he was a fire hydrant. He looked right. A street vendor was packing up grilled onions and sadness into a cart. Every face was a locked door.
Leo lifted his head. “What happens if I don’t survive the week?”
Outside, the siren faded. The neon ADLE flickered once, twice, then held. “Seen it a hundred times
The address on his lease was a joke. A cruel, faded joke written in a font so small he had to squint. He tapped his phone. 11% battery. The map app spun a little loading wheel that seemed to laugh at him.
By DanGames The bus wheezed like an old dog and spat Leo out onto a curb that smelled of hot asphalt and someone else’s lost coffee. He stood there, one duffel bag in hand, a phone with 12% battery, and a crumpled map that had already begun to sweat in his grip.
Ria smiled—a small, crooked thing. “Then you won’t owe me a dollar fifty.” The coffee steamed against his palms
“Well, Leo-from-the-bus,” Ria said, nudging a sugar dispenser toward him. “Drink up. City eats the hesitant for breakfast, and it’s already lunchtime.”
He wasn’t home yet. But for the first time since stepping off that bus, he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave. End of v0.1
Welcome to Meridian. Population: too many. Friends: zero.
No signal.
“Leo,” he said.