I walk into work and take my hood off. The first thing I'm told is that I'm wanted in Gideon's office. "Hey," I greet Lloyd and drop my backpack in my cubicle, my terminal, my cell. I put my hands in my hoodie's pockets and walk through the bullpen to my boss's glass office where Ange is yelling at him.

"We were hacked again last night," Gideon hands me a folder.

"What am I looking at?" I rifle through the papers. "Is this a route attack? This is awesome."

"You think this is awesome?" Gideon is becoming hysterical. "This is killing us, Elliot. Let's just see how this meeting goes today. Their networks are getting attacked every week; who knows if there'll still even be a client." He speaks to both me and Angela as he plays with a stress ball. He takes another look at me. "What did we say about the dress code?"

I sigh and unzip the hoodie and then shrug it off.

"Now look over those logs and be ready this afternoon in case they have any questions," Gideon orders.

Ange rolls her eyes at me and I follow her out of the office.

"You start smoking again?" I ask her; she seems extra wound up .

"Did you not get my texts last night?" She ignores the question. "I sent exactly thirteen of them."

"Sorry, I couldn't make it," I tell her. I did try to go. I made it all the way to the bar where I saw Tara fidgeting uncomfortably and I watched Ange kiss Ollie. I was about to open the door when some guys leaving brushed past me. I changed my mind; decided to go to Ron's Coffee and end that creep instead. Now I'm totally fucked. If they weren't following me before, the definitely were now.

"Stop thinking about something else when I'm talking to you," Ange reprimands me. "I hate when you do that."

I hate when she's mad at me. "Sorry, I was thinking about work."

"Maybe that's why Gideon likes you so much. He thanks me all the time for bringing you in. For some reason I think you secretly hate it here."

She's right. I like most of the people, but a cyber-security firm that protects corporations. I can't think of anything I hate more. "No, I love it here," I manage.

She chuckles. "I'm sorry. I'm just in a bad mood. I'm late on my last two student loan payments and I can't get Gideon to give me a raise."

"Hey," Ollie struts over and kisses her cheek.

"Hi," Ange smiles at him.

"Yo buddy," he says to me. "Where were you? Missed you last night."

"Gotta go, big meeting this afternoon," I excuse myself and with my head down, return to my cell.

1010011010

I had fries for lunch which I ate on my way to my appointment with Krista, my psychiatrist.

She asks me what I'm thinking about.

"Nothing," I lie.

"I was thinking about the first time you came to me," she offers up her thoughts. "You're not yelling anymore, which is good, but I can tell you're still holding on to it. We need to work on your anger issues, Elliot. You're angry at everyone, at society. I know you have a lot to be angry about, but keeping it to yourself, staying quiet, it's not going to help. What is it about society that disappoints you so much?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe that we collectively thought that Steve Jobs was a great man, even when we knew he made billons off the backs of children? Or maybe it's that it feels that all our heroes are counterfeit. The world itself is just one big hoax. Spamming each other with our burning commentary bullshit, masquerading as insight. Our social media faking as intimacy. Or is it that we voted for this? Not with our rigged elections, but with our things. Our property. Our money. I'm not saying anything new, we all know why we do this. Not because Hunger Games books make us happy, but because we want to be sedated. Because it's painful not to pretend. Because we're cowards. Fuck society."

"Elliot, Elliot, you're not saying anything," Krista interrupts my thoughts. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I lie again. She might be bad at reading people, but at least she's good. "Don't be frustrated," I tell her when she uncomfortably touches her hair.

"Why shouldn't I be?" she sighs.

"You're different than most, you at least try. You at least understand," I confess.

"Understand what?" she asks.

"What it's like to feel alone. You understand the pain. You want to protect people from it. You want to protect me from it. I respect that about you."

Krista tries not to look alarmed. "Why do you think I know what it's like to feel alone?"

Shit, I fucked up. I know from her emails. "I don't know." Another lie.

1010011010

The next day at work Ollie tries to talk to me even though I clearly have my headphones on. "Yo man, do you wanna do lunch today?" he asks.

I take the ear buds out. "Uh, yeah, I've got plans."

"Plans, right," he interrupts me. "That's what you said the last three times I asked you. Look, bud, you and Angela have been close for a long time. That's even more reason why I want us to be on good terms. I feel like things have been awkward between us, don't you?"

"I'm okay with it being awkward between us." I don't lie or pretend.

"Uh, I'm not okay with that, um, look man." I caught him off guard. "I love Angela and I want us to get along for her sake. That's what I'm here for, I just-"

I begin to tune him out. Of course I don't like him, he's cheating on Ange with an anemic girl called Stella B. I haven't told Angela because she has shitty taste in men and I'm not ready to see what comes after this just yet. Plus, I can manage Ollie easier than the others, for now anyway. Oh god, he is still talking.

"I like you bro," he says. "And I want you to like me too."

"I understand," I tell him. "I'll try harder."

"That's cool man, hey whenever you're ready I'd love to just chill." He reaches around to pat me on the shoulder and I uncomfortably move out of the way.

"Ooo I forgot about your no touching." He doesn't even apologize.

I keep my eyes glued to the computer screen. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? Truth is I didn't hate Ollie, he's not that bad of a guy. He's too dumb to be bad. No time to dwell on it; the evil heads of Evil Corp are here, walking by my desk. One of them stops: skinny guy, blond hair, blue eyes.

"Oh, hi," he holds out his hand when I look at him. "Tyrell Welleck. Senior Vice President of technology."

"Elliot," I introduce myself. "Just a tech."

"Don't be so humble." He thinks he's being kind. "I started out exactly where you are and to be honest my heart is still there. So I see you're running NOME. You know I'm actually on KED myself. I know this desktop environment is supposed to be better, but you know what they say: old habits die hard. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, I'm an executive, why am I even running linux; again, old habits. It's gonna be fun working with you. I should join the rest of the group. Bon soir, Elliot."

1010011010

I get home after dark and feed my black beta, Qwerty. If it weren't for him, I'd be completely empty. The wave of my loneliness washes over me and suddenly I'm drowning. I'm on the floor with my knees to my chin, in the nook between the dresser and my mattress. I hate when I can't hold in my loneliness. This crying's been happening too often; every other week now. What do normal people do when they get this sad? They reach out to friends or family, I think, but that's not an option. I do morphine, but shit, I grab the bottle and notice I'm out again. There's a buzz from the doorbell. I run downstairs and see Tara, waiting in the dark. I let her inside and we walk upstairs to my apartment.

"I come bearing gifts," she says holding up a bottle of pills and a bag of weed. "What do you wanna do?" She doesn't ask why I wasn't at Ange's party, but I know she was looking for me while she was there.

"Do you want to be chill and ethereal or numb?" I parry her question.

"Numb," she answers almost immediately. It must have been a tough day for her too.

I crush up a pill and space out a line for her. She does it and I repeat my actions for myself. It doesn't take long for the morphine to kick in, and when it does the world outside of myself, doesn't much exist. She picks a spot on my bed and begins reading a book she brought, Cat's Cradle. Vonnegut was crazy. I pull up Krista's social networks to see what she is doing on a Friday night; if she's with Hansen, but my mind keeps wandering to Welleck, the exec from Evil Corp.

"What does bon soir mean?" I ask.

"Good night," Tara replies automatically. "It's French."

"Huh," I grunt. Why did he say it during the day? Does he think French makes him look smarter? He probably didn't know what he means either.

"Why?" She usually doesn't bother trying to get me to speak, but I'll admit, it was a pretty random question.

"Some guy said it to me at work today, but it was the middle of the afternoon," I explain.

"Idiot." I hear her stand up, but I don't move away from my screens. She stands behind me and her hand moves to my chest, resting just below by collarbone. "Who's that?" she asks about the woman on my computer.

I swallow. I've been caught. "My psychiatrist, Krista Gordon," I admit. "She's dating an asshole named Michael Hansen."

Instead of running for the hills, she keeps her hand on my chest and asks, "What do you know about me?"

I bring up all the information I have saved on her and links to her social media. They're pretty useless now, that she's gone off the grid, but her emails are there too and her medical records. "I think you should change your doctor; Doug's an idiot," I tell her and stand to get a cigarette to ease my nerves.

"And who do you suggest?" she approaches as I light it.

"Krista; she's a good person." I exhale and take a step towards her.

She kisses me, surprises me, but I react well. I put my cigarette out on the wall and then kiss her back, slipping my tongue into her mouth. I push her up against the wall, touching every inch of her body, running my hands up her shirt and grabbing her chest. We move to my bed, she's underneath me. She bites at my neck and claws at my back. It felt good to touch her, to fuck her, to hear her moan. After I come inside of her, I roll over to the side and kiss her shoulder. We pause only for a minute before going at it a few more times.

Tara is asleep. She's on her side with her arm thrown carelessly over my chest. I envy how easily she sleeps. I'm wide awake so I check my phone; Krista's Instagram. She was with Hansen at Pierre Loti. I put on some clothes and make my way uptown.

1010011010

It was a long night and I feel myself fading on the train. Angela had called at three in the morning and I ended up working all night trying to save Evil Corp. I'm the only one on the subway this early on a Sunday, except for the homeless guy I see everywhere. Is he even real?

"Rough night," he says and sits down across from me. Mr. Robot, his shirt says. "I'm getting off here. I'm think you should come with me, but only if you didn't delete it. If you deleted it, we got nothing to talk about."

Against my better judgment, I follow him all the way out to Brooklyn.

1010011010

Walking back to my apartment, I'm freaking out. What if none of that was real? I fell asleep on the train. No, Ange called me. I was at Allsafe. The servers were compromised. Those are facts, not delusions.

Speaking of, Ange is sitting on my stoop. "Thank God you're here," she stands and stomps out her cigarette. "I was just about to go wait in the Starbucks. You live in a bad neighborhood. Do you know that?"

"I do know that," I answer, unsure of what I was supposed to say.

"Do you want to get high and watch your favorite movie?" She ignores my awkwardness and produces a copy of Back to the Future. "You saved our asses last night. I thought Gideon was definitely gonna fire me. Where have you been? I thought you'd be sleeping." I've known the sisters since we were kids, but sometimes I forget they were related.

"I-I fell asleep on the train." Only half a lie.

"That sounds like such a lie," she accuses. "But whatever, I don't want to get into that right now. Do you wanna do this?"

I nod and let her upstairs. I open the door to the closet of an apartment and there's Tara, still naked on my bed. Shit, I had forgotten about her. I look at Ange, she's uncomfortable, and back at Tara; unconscious. I kneel down beside the bed. "Hey, Tara. You need to get up."

She reaches out and gently strokes my face with the tips of her cold fingers. "Morning."

"Tara?" Ange just recognized her.

She turns around so quickly, the sheet falls away, exposing her naked body. She clutches for it and pulls it up to cover her chest. "Ange!" she cries, surprised.

"You know, I really can't deal with this right now," she fumes and storms out the door.

"Are you gonna go after her?" Tara asks me.

I don't give her an answer, I just begin making coffee. I'm not even sure if this is real.

She haphazardly dresses, pulling on her jeans without underwear and throwing my tshirt over her head. She rushes out after her sister, not even bothering with shoes. "Ange!" I hear her call.

Minutes later she stumbles back in, all but falling onto the mattress. Systematically, she begins rolling a joint. She passes it to me and I accept. When we've finished smoking, she doesn't bother finding the rest of her clothes. She puts on her shoes, grabs her backpack and leaves.

1010011010

Dressing for work the next day, I realize the hickeys she had given me still hadn't faded. They're right under my jaw so there's no chance of hiding them under the collar of the stupid shirt. One of the lower ones even peeks out from the collar which I've buttoned all the way up. I notice teeth marks on my chest as well and it scratches my mind. I begin to wonder what Tara's body looks like.

At Allsafe, Ange looks at me, my neck, and then turns around without saying hello. I follow her into the conference room to deal with the Evil Corp execs ready to throw up; I didn't need her making this anymore awkward.

"So what do you got?" The head of the organization, Terry Colby, asks.

"If you look at the first page of your agenda," Gideon begins.

"You're the one who stopped the hack," Colby interrupts to talk to me. I'm not even looking at him. "You know the gals in analysis said this was a tough one. All things being equal, it should have shut us down for days. So you did good."

"Okay." What was I supposed to say? I look back ag Gideon, I actually like him.

"We should start with our counter executive, Angela," he tried beginning again.

"Okay," she picks up her cue. "We first noticed the breech at 2:07 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, Friday night."

"You mean Saturday," Colby corrects her.

Ange grimaces. "Sorry, yes, technically, Saturday morning."

"Yes, that's why we're here, for the technicals," Colby sneers.

Turns out he's not only a moron, but a total ass as well. I try to defend Ange, but she only gets kicked out of the meeting along with Gideon and I'm left alone with the evil executives. I put my folder back into my backpack and pull out a blue one instead, the one that has the information Mr. Robot wanted me to give them. "I found the configuration, followed the routekid with a pattern of IP addresses once you decrypt it." I slide the folder to him. "You'll know where the hack came from."

1010011010

It's been nineteen days and Terry hasn't been arrested. Ange still hasn't spoken to me but Tara shows up out of the blue more and more often. She's lying, next to me in bed, sleeping. She made it very clear that she likes to be the big spoon and I let her without a fight. There was less pressure when being held than holding someone else. I look at my phone I can't say I mind her company. She doesn't pressure me into having conversations. But I worry, there's been no arrest; no revelation. I get up, go to work, there's no Colby, no Evil Corp. I go back to Coney Island; no Mr. Robot no fsociety. I need to take my mind off things.

It's time to break up Krista and Michael Hansen. While my decryption program runs, I look through Ange and Ollie's Facebook pictures. What I wouldn't give to be normal, to live in that bubble, be naive. That's how I justify this; to keep their optimism, to protect them.

I find him on the streets; Michael Hansen. He has a stroller with him and that poor dog. I state my demands; for him to break up with Krista, truthfully. It's invigorating, the power of information and because of it I'm also able to rescue Flipper.

1010011010

I run into Tara at Krista's office. I'm glad she takes my advice, but she looks shaken up. She smiles sadly at me and keeps on her way out of the building. I poke my head into Krista's office. "Five minutes. I'll be right back," I tell her.

Tara has left the waiting room so I run into the stairwell, hoping she is still in the building. "Tara!" I call.

She stops on the landing and I catch up with her. I don't know what to say to make her less sad. Instead, I reach up and kiss her gently on the forehead. As my lips press against her, I realize exactly what it is I'm doing. I pull away and run back to the safety of Krista's office.

"I know Angela is mad at me," I tell Krista. "I'm just not sure why. I don't know if she blames me for what happened at the Evil Corp meeting or if it's because I'm sleeping with her sister. What do I do? I need to talk to her.

"I think you just answered your own question. Talk to her. Go to her in person. Communication is key, Elliot. Real human interaction that's what's important for you right now," Krista told me.

1010011010

"Do you think we can talk?" I approach Ange at work like Krista suggested.

"What?" she asks, walking away from me.

"You haven't talked to me since the meeting," I declare.

"I don't want to you because I feel embarrassed every time I think about what happened, okay?" she explains. "It's fine. I'll get over it."

"It's been three weeks," I whine.

She puts her head down and tries to walk away, my signature move. "I have to get back to work."

"You're just gonna ignore me?" I ask.

"You didn't have to stick up for me in there. I know you were just trying to help. Just don't do it again. Even if I'm losing, let me lose okay? Don't look confused just say it, okay?"

"Okay." I tell her and take a deep breath. I had planned this, thought about it over and over again in my head, but actually doing it was much harder. I step forward and hug her. It feels good.

The room has grown quiet. Everyone is looking at us, no, at the television behind us. It was the news: Terry Colby had just been arrested by the FBI.