Grey’s eyes flash with irritation. “Oh, you haven’t noticed? Wearefucking stalkers. All three of us.”
Oliver shifts uncomfortably. “That’s a little harsh.”
Grey’s voice is cold. “Oh, sorry, my bad. But I can only please one person per day. Today is not your day, and tomorrow doesn’t look good either.”
He’s been in a really bad mood since we agreed on just staying friends with Amelia, and I don’t think that will change soon. But let’s be real, I also don’t believe that thejust friendsthing will work out for long.
Someone will fuck up.
The tension in the room is palpable, and I can feel it building, threatening to erupt into a full-blown fight. We’ve never had a real fight before. Sure, we get hot-headed and argue, but this feels different, more dangerous.
I’m just about to say something to defuse the situation when we hear Amelia yell, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “Fucking hell, yes!”
We all snap our heads toward the screen, watching as she jumps up from her couch, excitement radiating from her. She’s practically glowing, a huge smile on her face as she looks at whatever’s on her computer screen.
A moment later, holographic diagrams, floating notes, and interactive elements fill the room. Digital blueprints hover over her workspace, surrounded by complex equations and detailed schematics. Virtual Post-it notes with reminders and ideas drift around, suspended in midair. The entire space is a blend of reality and digital augmentation.
Amelia stands in the middle of it all when she pushes a button on her glasses, looking around with awe and delightbefore screaming again, “Yes, yes, yes!” She jumps up and down, her joy infectious even through the screen.
We’re all flabbergasted, staring in disbelief.
Grey is the first to speak. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Well, if you think that we just watched her revolutionize the tech industry, then yes, you are right,” I mumble.
Oliver’s eyes widen. “She just made AR visible to the naked eye.”
Grey runs a hand through his hair, a rare look of amazement crossing his face. “Holy shit.”
Before we can say anything else, the door to Amelia’s apartment opens, and the blonde girl from next door rushes in. “Are you okay? I heard you scream.”
Amelia looks startled but quickly composes herself. “Willow, you can’t just let yourself in like that,” she says, her tone sharper than usual.
We watch as Willow’s eyes widen, taking in the AR elements scattered throughout the room.
Oh shit.
“Wow,” she exclaims, reaching out to touch one of the floating Post-it notes. She pushes it, and it moves across the room. Giggling, she starts interacting with the AR, rearranging digital notes.
Amelia’s worry is palpable as she steps closer to Willow, her voice more urgent. “Hey, that’s not a game. Please don’t change anything.” But the girl doesn’t listen to her, and Amelia’s eyes dart to the door, her movements becoming more frantic. “Willow, stop.”
Then, we hear Amelia’s coworker’s voice calling from outside the apartment. “Willow, where are you?”
“Here!” Willow calls back just as Amelia manages to get to her laptop and deactivate the AR, making the icons disappear into thin air, and the room looks normal again.
Willow rushes to open the door wider for her father, a grin on her face. “Amelia has a new toy. It’s so cool.”
“Willow, how many times do I have to tell you… ugh. I’m sorry, Stanley.” He rubs his neck. “Come on, Willow, it’s time to go to bed.”
“I don’t like how familiar he talks with her,” Grey grumbles.
He fucking calls her by her last name, dude.
Willow pouts, crossing her arms defiantly. “It’s only nine.”
Her father scowls, his patience visibly wearing thin. “Do you still want that new phone or not?”
Willow huffs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Goodnight, Amelia,” she mutters, dragging her feet as she moves out of the door.
