I sat alone in my dimly lit apartment, the neon glow of the city outside flickering through my windows like a dying pulse. My fingers hovered over my phone, scrolling for the millionth time through the last few messages I’d received from Josh. Like a lovesick teenager, I reread every romantic exchange, trying to figure out what I’d done to turn him off.  

Three dates, countless laughs, and then nothing. He vanished as if he never existed. It wasn’t like we were living out in the frontier sectors, where drones patrolled the streets, government agents monitored every breath, and disappearances were common. Josh and I hit it off like I never had with anyone before. Or so I thought.  

I reached the end of my text exchange with Josh and set my phone on the coffee table. In the days since Josh vanished, I had exhausted every avenue I could think of to find him. I was sure he hadn’t been arrested or exiled, and no transit authorities recorded him leaving the sector. Yet knowing this didn’t make the ache any easier. I worked as an analyst for one of the State Bureaus, deciphering encrypted communications and ensuring the stability of our surveillance systems. It was bitterly ironic that I could trace illegal broadcasts and subversive messages, but I couldn’t find Josh.  

The control panel by my front door flickered from red to blue to green. My best friend Scott barged into the living room with his usual energy, breaking the silence that had cocooned me. I regretted having his ThinkChip updated with access to my house. I just wasn’t in the mood to be cheered up.  

“Ryan, dude, you need to get out of here,” Scott said, collecting a trio of half-empty takeout containers and dropping them into the recycler. “It’s Drone Days at the HoloDrome. Exactly what you need.”  

I groaned and reached for my phone, my thumbs automatically pulling up my saved text messages. Drone Days was a state-sponsored spectacle showcasing the latest in drone technology, from service automatons to combat androids. Like Scott and me, those of us in the Bureaucracy knew it was also an extension of the State’s control apparatus masked as entertainment. Drone Days operated as an informal census. Every citizen who passed through the gates at Drone Days was recorded, and those who failed to attend when it came to their sector often found their privileges curtailed.  

“I don’t think so,” I said, retreating further into my text messages. “I went two months ago when it came through Old Central.”  

Scott reached over, yanked my phone out of my hands, and dangled it precariously over the recycler.  

“Give it back,” I snapped. The urgency in my voice didn’t match my body language. I remained on the sofa, my hand pathetically extended. All I wanted was to stay at home and wallow. “I’m not over him yet.”  

“Come on, dude,” Scott said. “You’re not the first person to get ghosted by a hot guy after the third date. Drone Days will take your mind off your troubles.”  

I continued my half-hearted protestations, but Scott was relentless. More so than I, Scott believed in the distractions of the fair, in the illusion of freedom it provided. I reluctantly agreed, hoping that the change of scenery would numb the hollow feeling inside.  

The streets were alive with holographic advertisements and the hum of hovercars. As we neared the HoloDrome, a cacophony of mechanical whirs and human chatter grew. The air was thick with the smell of fried food and the metallic scent of new technology. I almost forgot my sadness; I was so lost in the chaotic intermingling of humanity and machines.  

Drone Days was always a bit overwhelming, which was by design. The sensory overload made it easy to forget your troubles, if only for a moment. Scott led the way, his excitement palpable as he dragged me from one exhibit to another.  

“Check this out!” Scott shouted. I wove through the throng of fairgoers, trailing my best friend by a dozen paces. “They’ve got the latest Guardian Drones. Supposedly, they can anticipate crimes before they happen!”  

Scott’s eyes were wide with fascination. Oddly for a bureaucrat, he always seemed to take the State’s announcements at face value, even though I knew he had to know better. I managed a weak smile, nodding as he spoke. “Yeah, predictive policing at its finest,” I replied. However, my mind was elsewhere, still replaying the electric moments of my third and last date with Josh.  

Scott grabbed my arm, pulling me toward an area where drones of all shapes and sizes were displayed. “Come on, let’s check out this auction. They’re selling end-of-service models. Some of them are practically giving them away.” Scott was a true friend, trying to infuse some enthusiasm into my depressed mood. I followed him reluctantly, the noise and crowd pressing in on me.  

As we reached the auction area, the announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, listing off the features of the next drone up for bid. My attention drifted until I saw him—Josh. He stood among the drones, his face as familiar as ever, yet lifeless, a hollow replica of the man I thought I knew.  

“Scott, that’s him!” I hissed, my voice barely whispering. “That’s Josh.”  

Scott looked where I was pointing, his eyes widening. “Holy crap, Ryan. Are you sure? How is that possible?” he asked in disbelief.  

“I don’t know, but I have to find out,” I replied, pushing through the crowd toward the auction stage. Security drones stepped in, blocking my path as I shouted, “Josh! It’s me, Ryan!” The auctioneer glared at me, annoyed by the disruption.  

“Please step back, sir. The auction is in progress,” he commanded.  

Scott grabbed my arm, pulling me back before things escalated. “Come on, dude, think it through for five seconds. That can’t be Josh.”  

I looked back at the row of drones lined up for auction, examining them through squinting eyes. Josh stood motionless in the center of the line, a striking figure of human masculinity and robotic precision. His face, the only part of him that I recognized, was as handsome and chiseled as I remembered. High cheekbones, strong jawline, and piercing blue eyes that I thought held warmth and mischief were now cold and expressionless. His hair, a tousled mass of dark waves, framed his face, adding to the illusion of humanity. But the lack of emotion or recognition in his gaze made it clear that he wasn’t the Josh I had known.  

“It is,” I said firmly. “I’d bet my life on it.”  

“How the heck did you not know he was a drone?” Scott questioned.  

I tore my gaze away from Josh’s strikingly handsome face and looked at the rest of him. From the neck down, he was entirely made of metal, his body a gleaming testament to advanced engineering. His torso was sculpted into an ideal representation of human musculature, each sinew and muscle group reproduced in detail. His metallic exo-plating was polished to a high sheen, reflecting the myriad lights from the fairground and creating a mesmerizing play of light and shadow across his form. His arms and legs were powerful and sleek, with intricately designed segments and joints.  

“He must have had a SyntheSkin,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “I thought he was real.”  

“But he’s not exactly… fully equipped down there,” Scott countered, nodding in Josh’s direction.  

I looked down. Between Josh’s legs was a smooth metallic plate bearing the logo of NeoDynamics Corporation, one of the largest drone producers for the service economy in the central sectors.  

“We only had three dates,” I said. “I never got close enough to check what he was packing.”  

“In three dates, you never got the chance?”  

Scott raised an eyebrow, and I scoffed at the implication. “Some of us still like to date the old-fashioned way.”  

“Different strokes,” he said. Then his expression grew serious. “If that’s really Josh, we can’t just rush in. We need a plan,” he said, his voice steadying me.  

I nodded, my mind racing. “You’re right, but I can’t just leave him here. We have to do something,” I insisted, desperation creeping into my voice. 

“Security is tight, and they won’t let us near the merchandise without a good reason.”  

I nodded, frustration bubbling up inside me. “We need a distraction,” I mused, glancing around at the bustling crowd. “Something that will draw their attention away from the auction long enough for us to get close to Josh.”  

Scott’s eyes lit up with an idea. “What if we stage a minor malfunction with one of the other drones? Something that looks serious enough to get everyone’s attention but isn’t actually dangerous?”  

“That could work,” I agreed, my mind already working on the details. “We need to find an isolated drone, one we can tamper with without being noticed.” 

Scott grinned, his confidence infectious. “Leave that to me. I know just the spot. While I’m setting up the distraction, you get ready to move. As soon as the security shifts focus, head straight for Josh. I’ll meet you there and figure out the next step together.” 

I took a deep breath, the weight of the plan settling on my shoulders. “Alright, let’s do this. For Josh.” 

Scott nodded, his expression serious. “For Josh.” 

We broke from our huddle, each moving purposefully toward our roles in the risky rescue mission. 

Want more works like this? Buy Me a cup of coffee as a way to help support this and other writing endeavors.