Category: Dystopia

Catch up on chapter 3 before reading on…

For the next few days, Rick felt unstoppable.  

ThinkTech Premium turned the spark of the free trial into an inferno. Every word he spoke, every smile he flashed, and every movement he made was meticulously calibrated to enthrall Zach and anyone lucky enough to cross his path. The surge of power was electrifying—Rick’s mind crackled with razor-sharp wit, magnetic charisma, and an almost supernatural attunement to the world around him. Each morning, he awoke with an unstoppable drive, his thoughts snapping into alignment like precision-engineered cogs, propelling him toward a brilliance he’d only ever imagined.  

With ThinkTech shaping his every move, Rick’s nights with Zach became the stuff of fantasies—charged, intimate, and unforgettable. Date night at the leather bar was pure alchemy as ThinkTech whispered the perfect cues into his mind. The prompts told him how to stand—broad shoulders back, chin tilted just so—and when to unleash a sly grin that drew Zach closer into his orbit. When Zach growled with laughter at Rick’s jokes, ThinkTech nudged Rick to lean even closer, delivering just the right compliment into his ear.  

Catch up on chapter 2 before reading on…

Rick’s alarm buzzed, jerking him awake. Groggy, he squinted at his phone, catching sight of a text notification from Zach. His heart gave a little leap, but as he tried to sit up, he felt… off. There was a heaviness in his head as though his thoughts were moving through molasses. The confident clarity he’d felt with ThinkTech over the last few days had vanished, leaving him with a fuzzy, sluggish mind that seemed to snag on every thought before it was fully formed.  

He tapped on the notification, opening Zach’s text.  

Hey, handsome. Last night was something else. Can’t stop thinking about that smile. Free to swing by my place tonight? Got a few ideas in mind. 😘  

Catch up on chapter 1 before reading on…

Rick smoothed down his jacket to distract his trembling fingers and calm his nerves before he entered the restaurant. Zach had suggested the venue for their first date—a trendy downtown gastro-monstrosity called Salt & Thyme. It had taken Rick way too long to find the place and even longer to park his car, with a few extra minutes outside the restaurant to catch his breath for good measure.  

He glanced through the casement windows into the packed restaurant. Everyone looked like they’d just come from a photoshoot for Casual Chic Monthly. The restaurant was full of guys with trimmed and waxed beards, wearing shirts so tight you could practically count their abs, and women in flowing dresses that looked effortless but probably cost half a mortgage payment.  

Rick’s leather jacket creaked as he hunched over the two-top table, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It was barely ten o’clock, still early for a Saturday night, and the regulars had only just started to trickle in. From his perch in the corner, Rick nursed a sweating glass of whiskey, its contents now more melted ice than liquor, and ran a finger along a rough patch of cracked leather on his sleeve. The only piece of leather gear he owned, the old jacket’s worn edges and snug fit lent him a rugged look he rarely felt he lived up to. 

He was a middle-aged bear with a build that was beefy and soft at the same time—rounded gut, broad chest, and thick arms hidden under the leather, with a bald scalp and a beard he kept trimmed short but full. His leather look was more functional than flashy, a way of blending in rather than standing out, but tonight, he felt something different in the air. He scanned the bar as it filled with patrons and music grew louder. Surrounded by men he only vaguely recognized from local leather events and meetups, Rick envied their easy camaraderie from a distance.