Simon Silverton
In a quiet suburban mansion in Westchester, New York...
"What the fuck are you talking about?" screamed Michael Silverton, the CEO and board director of Silverton Enterprises. "I have no idea who that woman is!"
"I am not an idiot, Michael!" Cassandra Shireland-Silverton yelled back. "The video was more than real! I cannot believe you'd lie to my face like this!"
Five rooms away in the Silverton family game room, Simon and Sissy Silverton, mini carbon copies of their parents, sat quietly, watching a muted television show about teenagers from Los Angeles.
The voices of their parents were less than muffled, all thanks to the acoustic hybrid fiber-glass walls of their three-story mansion. Michael thought it did wonders for the game room's high definition movie experience.
"I want a divorce, Michael!" cried Cassandra.
"Oh, don't you worry," growled Michael. "I'll have the papers ready five minutes from now!"
Back in the game room, Sissy silently passed Simon a wad of hundred-dollar bills.
"Sucker..." Simon said as he smiled to himself.
Ten months later...
In a penthouse apartment on Park Avenue...
Simon Silverton woke up that morning feeling like a million bucks. It was either the million bucks he did have in his jeans pocket, or maybe it was the fact that graduation was two days ago and he didn't have a single thing to do once again.
A ringing/vibration under him startled Simon. It was his xPhone and his dad was calling him. Again.
"Whut?" Simon answered groggily.
"Simon?!" His father sounded like he was walking down the street. Simon could hear the cars honking and the pedestrians screaming at each other. He must be on Wall Street again.
"Yeah," said Simon. He looked at the clock on the video screen wall. Two o'clock. PM.
"Did you just wake up?!" Michael asked.
"Yeah."
"Stop saying that!" his father ordered. "Now, did you feed the fish?"
"Yeah," said Simon, ignoring his father, as he pressed a button on the holographic control panel that appeared over him.
In the hallway/exotic fish aquarium, a hatch opened releasing bloody and cut up meat, which the miniature great white sharks gobbled up impatiently.
"Okay, I left some money on your DineNOut account if you're hungry for something other than PB&J."
"Yeah," Simon replied one last time before disconnecting the call. Michael Silverton gave guilt money a whole new meaning. After the divorce, Michael and Cassandra left it up to the children to decide with whom they wanted to stay.
The kids' conversation went pretty much like this:
Sissy: Simon, dad cheated on mom! Why would you want to stay with that asshole?
Simon: Sissy, dad may be a spineless scumbag, but he's a rich spineless scumbag.
Sissy: Oh, so I guess it's a match made in heaven.
Simon: Better than the Menopause Brigade in Westchester.
Sissy: Fuck you!
All that bickering aside, Simon convinced his mother that he didn't want to let his dad think that they were ganging up against him. That was why he decided to stay with Michael.
Cassandra ate up the whole sugar-coated story because she loved her baby so much that she couldn't hold it against him if he wanted to stay with his father.
Why wouldn't he? Michael Silverton owned a number of prime real estate in Manhattan but chose to set up his son in the best one. A three-story, 10,000 square foot beauty, decorated by the best European interior designers and decked out in the most advanced, state-of-the-art electronics a teenage boy could ever want. His secretary/mistress got the second best on Fifth Avenue.
Aside from that, Michael set Simon up with a trust fund that would put the Trumps to shame. There is nothing he wouldn't give Simon, if he'd only stay with his father instead of his infuriating bitch of a mother, like Sissy, who's only getting a full ride for college and an inheritance once Daddy dies.
Simon stood up and passed through the holographic door, which, today, featured a school of barracudas swimming around a defenceless baby seal. He passed the hallway and viewing hall for the aquarium, waved at the sharks and proceeded to the kitchen.
He checked his take-out account and sure enough, his dad left enough money for him to feed the homeless people in New York. Ignoring the kitchen's holographic menu screen, Simon started making breakfast.
He slathered a couple of whole wheat bread slabs with pistachio butter on one side and Welch's grape jelly on another. He slapped them together and travelled along the lonely corridors of the apartment back to his room.
Simon's room was his one true pride and joy. Immediately after moving in, Simon contacted K-Soft, the largest and most prominent computer technology distributor and converted the walk-in closet of his former room into a motion-detecting, graphic response, virtual reality boy-cave using his father's AmEx. Michael saw the bill, took a few deep breaths and smiled at his accountant, Carl, telling him that he meant to tell him about Simon's spending spree but it just didn't cross his mind.
Now, with the flick of his finger and a wave of his hand, Simon was pretty much connected to the World Wide Web with his mind and body.
A "ding" sounded while Simon was eating and watching the latest Girls Gone Wild video. Himalayan Alps.
"Yo, Simon," Jared Kimmel suddenly boomed, his face a ten-foot replica of the real thing as he spoke. "I've got some Society chicas who wanna meet up in the Village, you game?"
Simon groaned and flicked a few things on the screen, minimizing Jared's face about five times.
"Don't you watch the news, dickwad? Those chicas," Simon mimed quotation marks. "are probably pedophiles or serial killers. You gotta cut yourself loose from that stupid game."
Jared's nostrils flared and his eyes widened. As if the fact that the Society characters weren't really who they said they were was as unbelievable as Ken Castle not knowing how to use a mouse.
"Nah, man, those chicks are verified!" Jared insisted. "I saw their Facebooks!"
"Yes, because your profile pic is really you, right?" Simon replied skeptically. Jared's face scrunched in dismay, so he just flipped Simon off and signed off.
"Okay," Simon said to himself as he sat up and brushed the crumbs off his hand. "Time to work."
He opened a separate panel for his Xbox 3000, Wii and PS10 games and started browsing using his hands.
"Boring... stupid...girly...gay...been there...done that..."
After fifteen minutes, Simon finally gave up. He started checking IGN and GameFAQ but the results were the same. Simon had every game imaginable, including the ones not released yet. He dominated most of the hall-of-fames but nothing could quench his undeniable thirst for gamer immortality.
In high school, Simon wasn't a jock, nor was he in any extracurricular club, whatsoever. Aside from attending a few parties he was e-vited to, Simon didn't have much passion for anything that resembled the dreary reality that was his life.
A natural at operating high-tech electronic devices, Simon decided to get his kicks online like every other American teenager. When VGS (video game simulation) started making rounds in the mass market distribution, Simon took advantage of the opportunity and spent his free time mastering every hot game released.
Massive multiplayer online gaming was still raging across the globe and with VGS being integrated into every kid's computer system in the world, Simon finally had the opportunity to test his skills on numerous encounters with other players. Without any plans for the near future, Simon spent all of his time either watching movies, eating sandwiches or playing video games.
Failing to find anything else on the mainstream front, he decided to check the underground scene. A new panel opened up, this one different from the rest that was programmed with Simon's browser theme.
It was black with gold beams of light flashing all over the room. A large banner flashed the name of the site. GamersUNLimited. Simon entered his username and password and was immediately transported to a room full of people of different races and ethnicities, all having two things in common. A passion for video games bordering on obsession and... A. Lot. Of. Money.
"Hey, Simon!" a girl with pink dreadlocks and wearing an orange jumpsuit bounced over to him. Even though her screen name was flashing annoyingly on top of her head, Simon recognized her.
"Hey ChickForKicks. Don't you ever wear normal clothes?" Simon asked while he looked around, hoping to spot merchantofvenize, the person he came to see.
"What this?" ChickForKicks asked as she looked down at her outfit. "You are such a guy, Simon! This is the newest innovative fashion statement to hit the ramps. Don't you subscribe to Eighteen?"
"Uh, no," replied Simon. "Did you see Merch?"
"If you're looking for new games, you're outta luck. Everyone's seen Merch, even me!"
"He hasn't seen me," said Simon as he waved her away.
ChickForKicks immediately disappeared as Simon went over to the next community. He sent out a search module looking for merchantofvenize but unfortunately, the site was pretty busy looking for him as well.
Just when Simon's about to sign off, an incoming transmission stopped him in his tracks. Literally. His whole room was frozen on the exact same moment the transmission came in.
"What the..."
Simon's screen changes and heavy metal music comes on as a video of soldiers in some sort of war environment started to blowing each other up. It looked so real that Simon actually ducked when a truck blew up and flew at him. This was a pretty sick way to promote a new movie.
The screen then focused on one of the soldiers and superimposed behind him was a kid mimicking his actions. After that it flashed to a scene where the kid was picking upgrades and then the soldier used them in the next scene.
The screen came back to the soldiers blowing each other up. A sexy computerized voice of a woman started saying,
"The newest advance in K-Soft innovative video game simulation technology development ..."
And that's when Ken Castle's face came on and he started to talk in that thick southern salesman accent of his.
"You all know what Society is..." A flash to the simulated environment of Society. A sort of Sims-like game, only using real people who are paid to act out other people's real time commands. The screen showed a girl wearing a really loud outfit started screaming while another girl mimicked the action, only the other girl looked a little more normal.
"The virual...oh, now wait.. I mean actual reality game that allows you to live through others, play through others and basically just be someone other than yourself!" The screen flashed with several other screenshots of Society.
"What if I told you that these gentlemen here..." The screen showed another clip of the soldiers fighting. One of them used a big-ass gun and shredded another soldier with a rapid succession of bullets.
"Are as real as these guys?" It showed another scene from society where a colourful assortment of characters were partying in some sort of night club.
"Ladies and gents, I'm Ken Castle of K-Soft and you're watching..." The screen then fades to black and an explosion of artificial...wait...real blood splatters the screen and spells out one word SLAYERS.
Simon was struck speechless. Well, except for a couple of words.
"Fuckin' A..."
A/N: Okay, if anyone noticed anything out of place on this chapter. Do not hesitate to tell me. I did my best but maybe, I can still add a little something more to this, yeah?