They sat looking out at the white cotton candy clouds; his home was located at one of the highest peaks in the city, built in a biodome above the cloudy sky. He was used to the sight, but it never ceased to amaze her. The artificial grass was as soft as silk. She let her fingers roam over it; it was different from the grass at the school or the other affluent kids’ homes. She stared at the never-ending cloudy sky littered with the tops of a few skyscrapers and other bio-domes, but she could feel his gaze burning into her. To him, she had always been the most interesting object; nothing around him seemed to interest him more than she did. He reached a hand towards her red, inflamed cheek, now starting to fade into a blue, skin broken and bleeding.

“Why do you let them do this?” he asked as he traced the blue and purple, applying enough pressure to make her flinch in pain.

“They’re my friends,” she replied and smiled. The truth was she hated them; they weren’t her friends, and they treated her as if they owned her. She was a nice human pet for them to use and abuse. He had now moved in front of her, blocking her view, his glowing blue eyes infiltrating her soul. His poor eyes… Why would a parent do something like this to their own child? His eyes, bio-engineered with the latest technology, scanned every crevice of her face.

“Stop lying,” he put more pressure behind his touch. She gritted her teeth, trying hard not to make a sound. Was this amusing to him?

“You’re such a suck-up, the worst I’ve ever met,” he said. Anger brewing behind the electric glare of his eyes. He grabbed her face and lingered for a moment, those eyes fixed on her cheek. She could almost see his thoughts rushing through, stumbling, attempting to make sense of whatever entered his mind. He was always such a conflicted person, unsure of his emotions, unaware, raised by robots who weren’t able to teach him, unloved by his parents, and raised only to be the best. His body mangled with the latest technology. It must have hurt those eyes of his. She wanted to reach out and comfort him because, to her, he was the most pitiful of all of them. The elite’s children were all messed up in their own ways, left by their parents, raised by robots or strangers, feelings repressed, and years of anger brewing behind honeyed looks and words. They loved her because she allowed them to let go of these emotions, and her swollen cheek was evidence of that.

“Do you want me to do the same as them? Is that what it would take to make you mine.” He pulled his hand away, his bright blue eyes now transfixed on a spot of blood left on his fingers. They sat in silence. He was always so possessive. Why wouldn’t he be? His father was the CEO of Sapos, and he basically owned the cities of NNNY and Moscow v12. What else the family had owned was out of her understanding. He was used to getting everything he wanted, getting the things that the others could only dream of.

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“It's your choice,” she muttered, trying to contain a strange and bitter anger that wanted to spill through. She wanted to yell and fight back, but her future depended on these relationships. The sacrifice was worth the money, glory, gifts, trips, and power.

She waited for him to hit her, but he didn’t; he sat behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her into his chest. “I won’t hurt you because you’re my precious friend.” He whispered into her ear before resting his chin on her shoulder. “But it doesn’t mean that I won’t hurt them.”

Why did she remember him now? Was it the emotional instability that plagued her the last few days? It had been 6 years, she tried to forget him, she tried so hard to throw him out of her memory. But how could she? He was a major part of her life for so many years. Nausea overtook her as her head throbbed from yesterday’s excessive drinking. Was it the hangover that made her sick or the thought of him? It was probably both, she thought.

Her last night's visitor had left her in euphoric pleasure and escaped into the night. She never got to see his face with a sober mind. But he had left his trace, her body aching, his touch still lingering. Maybe it was he who had brought up memories of her past? The guilt of last night's escapades already set into the pit of her stomach.

She groaned as pain throbbed through her head again. Ryuu, his name entered her mind, leaving lingering flavors of betrayal on her tongue. For months, she waited for him to come and get her, to take her back to the academy and tell her that everything would be alright. To fix the wrongs done to her and her family. He had always been there for her before; he protected her physically and socially, and she was there to soothe the aches of his mind. But he never came. A betrayal worse than death. Somehow, with thier time together, he had made her too reliant on him. Maybe it was just another game of theirs. To make her reliant, to have her trust, to make her feel a sense of security, and then to fully break her down. The drinking, her thoughts of him, and last, not made her feel disgusting.

Now, he had probably taken over Sapos, and his father had most likely left to spend the rest of his years in luxury on some distant planet. Did he remember her? Because she remembered him, he left a nasty scar across her heart, one that did not want to heal.

I hate you, she thought. The ache in her heart said differently.

“Ugh, I feel sick,” she muttered. Her mother peeked her head into the kitchen from her bedroom. It was the first time she had come home in days, and it had to be today.

“Oh, sweety, you need to get some electrolytes into that body of yours.” She called out, her soft voice soothing the ache of the past a little.

“Must have been a wild night, huh?” her mom giggled. After a few moments of rumbling, she came out of her room carrying a small metal box. “Take this to Fema and ask her for some tablets. I’m sure she’ll be happy to help after she sees what I got for her.” Her mother threw on her black trench coat and put on her worn-out boots. She walked across the living room floor, trudging dirt along, and kissed her on the forehead.

“Feel better, baby,” she tenderly whispered, leaving the box beside her and leaving for an unknown amount of time.

It was the way her mother dealt with the reality of their lives. She worked, worked so she did not have to think about Dad and about what had happened to thier family.