The App Effect

By Frades Alexander

Life had become monotonous and even stale for Cliff, a thirty-something IT professional and homebody. Outside of his acclaimed work, his focus is his home, his social life, and the occasional outing with his ex-wife, and his blossoming pre-teen daughter.
He one day realizes he needs a new phone, so replaces his outdated cell phone with the latest and greatest model.
But a cell phone without apps is like a great car without a great sound system, so Cliff decides to pack his new phone with various apps.
Cliff decides to pack his new phone with varioous apps.
One app in particular however, proves a little troubling for him. He soon learns this is a nasty and malevolent app, and sure enough, it goes viral
From that moment Cliff's life changes forever, as will the rest of the world.
The App Effect is about an unimaginable horror, a terror too dark and unthinkable, thanks to the wonders of technology. This book is full of non-stop action, written in ways that will dig into your darkest fears, and keep you on an equally inexplicable edge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frades Alexander
• Release date: Oct 4, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466180260

Frades Alexander

Frades Alexander has been an IT professional since the internet took off. He has always had interest in writing, but never seemed to find a good topic, until now. He hopes to make writing his new career, with new novels that'll take readers to a newer level in suspense and terror, and by breaking the traditional writing box.

Book preview

The App Effect

By Frades Alexander

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 by Frades Alexander

ISBN: 978-1-4661-8026-0

***~~~***

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold

or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,

please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did

not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work

of the author, Frades Alexander.

***~~~***

This work of literature may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or any manner, electronic or mechanical, to include photocopying, recording by any information storage and retrieval system, or any other means regardless, without express and direct permission from the author.

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and situations are purely the product of the author’s imagination and intended to be purely fictional and for entertainment purposes.

***~~~***

I dedicate this book to my dad, who inspired me to write it from day one.

Many thanks to Mrs. Martha Veliz, who did a formidable job in proofreading and editing this work. She is highly recommended.

***~~~***

Chapter Zero

Three Years Ago

Old brick buildings have always made great office spaces, especially those deemed as historic.

This two-level old brick building was no exception.  Probably built during the industrial revolution of yesteryear, the building boasted large rustic windows with depression era glass.

The interior however resembled a completely different scene.  Exposed ceiling ducts and stylish lamps hung from the exposed rafters, and every cubicle in the place with its state of the art computers and ergonomic desks created a cutting-edge office environment.  Several support columns stood throughout the space.

The perimeter of an upper level consisted of a wraparound balcony overlooking the main floor; offices secured with state-of-the-art retinal scan systems lined its periphery.

The occupants of this high-tech workspace were no different in style and attitude.  These associates not only looked the part, but also played it, and did so rather well.  For the carefully crafted mix of business types to IT gen-D hipsters, dedication was the order of the day.  After all, the place was a hotbed of activity.

Albeit its high level of productivity, something seemed unusually odd about this place.  These professionals, busy as they were, did not engage in any significant amount of chatter; men in their high-end shirts with rolled up sleeves and women with stylish heels and watches were not very talkative.  In fact, everyone worked with a focused sense of direction, as if knowing ahead of time just what to do and when to do it, just like worker ants or drones building tunnels.  Again, there was minimal verbal communication between these high-end workers; any talking would have been just the essential.  These men and women had to have been highly trained to achieve the ultimate goal of this well organized facility.

Off to the rear near a corner of the floor was a nook; it looked like a small and narrow space of its own seldom trafficked and not used for much of anything.  There, a black metal railing led down to some lower level and into the building’s underground.  However, the unusual aspect of it was that its entryway, a circular opening lined and framed with thick metal, closed off by a massive steel hatch like those found in Navy subs or ships.

The floor beneath was nothing more than a wide and long hallway with plain unpainted concrete walls and floor, with repeated sets of double white doors every twenty feet or so.  Coming out of the top floor from the thick metal hatch, was a spiral staircase, also metal and with the same black railing. There were few chairs throughout the hall, and this seating was relatively scarce.  However, unlike the level above with its tech mojo, this level was a plain and non-assuming hall, similar to those in military operations.  Fluorescent lighting made this hallway extra bright, and just outside every set of doors was a high-tech retinal scanner.  This was one long hallway that possibly stretched for city blocks in all directions, maybe built as an addition and kept obscured, known to just a hand-picked few.

An attractive woman with short hair and black frame glasses approached the set of doors closest to the staircase; she wore a white lab coat with a nametag with just a three-digit number on it.  There she took off her glasses and looked into the retinal scanner, keeping her cold brown eyes focused and free of movement.  After a few seconds, the Access Granted message on the scanner’s tiny screen came on.   The lock mechanism then released.  She then put her glasses back on, and pushed her way through the doors.

Inside was a large well lit room; it too was lined with plain cement walls.  This room packed rows upon rows of servers stacked upon columns of racks interconnected with large amounts of cabling both large and small.  There were few workstations throughout, an odd setup considering the overwhelming amount of equipment; techs and professionals operated these, and analysts buried themselves into their keyboards and screens.

On one side of the room stood a couple of large weird machines, these looked like old medical contraptions with analog meters.  Tubes came out of them with breathing masks attached.  Next to it and near a supporting column stood a cylindrical metal gas tank, it had nothing attached but a gas pipe.

Then there were the chairs.  In the center of this room, indeed a cross between a lab and a server room of sorts, sat a single file row of cheap wooden chairs.  There were just a few of these, maybe ten at most, and they were all empty, but one.  In it sat a middle-aged male in casual attire, minding his own business.  He remained silent and did not seem to pay much attention to his surroundings.  Yet, he had a look about him of extreme anxiety.

The woman who had just entered the lab walked over to the subject, locked eyes with him, and gave him a fast once-over making sure everything up to spec.  Do you feel okay? she asked him nicely though in a cold and clinical way.

The man nodded.

Good, she said to him.  Are you ready to give it another try?

With a little hesitation, he nodded once again.

Okay, she said, and walked back around him to a workstation where a tech stared at a video screen.

Give it another whirl, she said to the tech.  But bring up the beta and gamma by three points.

Doctor, why three?  Why not five? asked the tech.

Because, I want to see the interpolation when it is set to three.  Why else would I ask?

Okay, replied the tech.  Three it is.  The mild mannered young man then took hold of the mouse and clicked a few buttons on his display.  At that moment it changed into an array of waves and patterns, totally meaningless to the average person but informative to these scientists.  Here it goes, he said, hitting the final button with a click of the mouse.

Both then waited patiently, staring at their subject with a sense of excitement, waiting for something different to transpire.  To everyone’s disappointment, nothing happened.

A second tech a few stations over seemed doubtful over the data on his screen.  The vector isn’t focusing, he said looking at the screen and slight bit frustrated.

That can’t be, the neuroscientist said, then walked over to him.  Show me.  After a few seconds, she saw something of interest.  See this? she asked pointing to the screen.  Up the vector by a few points and drop the resonance ratio.

Going up by six, and a resolution going way down, the tech said, pushing his falling nerdy glasses back up the slant of his nose.

Where did you learn your technology?  You’re not supposed to drop the res by that much!  Move over, she said with authoritarian demeanor.  Taking control of the mouse, she hit a few points and played with some numbers a bit.  That’s what the res ought to be.  Save that setting.

Saving now, he said slightly embarrassed.  Sorry; it won’t happen again.

She then returned to the other tech’s station, and made sure his parameters remained optimized.  Looks good, she said to him sporting a slight grin with her luscious yet commanding lips.  Are we ready for another try?

Ready, said tech one.

Good to go, said tech two, the one with the nerdy glasses.

She then turned around to the backside of the lab.  All good back over there?

All good and ready here, said the heavyset woman surrounded by intricate bioscience equipment.

Run it, the doctor said.

Every tech in the place did their thing, clicked whatever it was they were supposed to click, and waited eagerly.

Again, nothing happened.

Not good enough, the boss said.

At that precise moment, the subject sitting in the center chair began to stiffen up a bit, developing a twitch of the face.

The doctor took immediate notice of that, and focused heavily on his twitching, making sure that nothing menacing developed.

Then, without warning signs, the man’s face began to cringe and tighten, and every muscle, fiber, and capillary began swelling as if ready to explode.  Then, turning his face up high to the ceiling as if pleading with the angels in the heavens, as high up as his neck muscles would allow, his jaw opened up indescribably large and grotesquely wide.  By now, his eyes had enlarged in ways science could not describe. Still, he did not utter a sound, not even a slight noise.

The doctor observed the subject carefully, almost entranced by the effect of the experiment.  After half a minute, she had seen enough.  Kill it, she shouted.  Kill it!

Everyone in the room shut the test off, and remained quiet at their stations patiently awaiting further instructions.

Returning to a relaxed state, the subject dropped his head, tired and literally shaken up by the experience.

The doctor ran over to her subject, and placing her hands on his shoulders, tried meeting him eye to eye again.  Are you all right?

The man could not raise his head, not even to look up; he stayed silent and barely nodded to answer her.

Please, she asked again this time showing some concern.  Please, look at me.

There was an overpowering silence throughout the place as everyone watched with unease.  The only sound was the noise coming from the server fans.

Please...

The man slowly began to raise his head, taking his time painstakingly while staring straight out, eventually regaining trust in the woman’s words.

I’m sorry, she said to him gently.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.  Please believe me.

Finally looking at her in the eyes, he nodded, as if agreeing.  This time he spoke.  Okay, he said soft-spoken in a humble way.  I’ll be all right; really.

Good, she said with a hint of a smile.

The compassionate moment did not last long when the doors to the lab opened, and in came a suit.

Doctor, said the short bald man hastily heading her way.

Sir, she said to him with great attention.

How’s progress going?

Sir, it’s coming along.  However, it is taking a little longer than we originally thought.  But that’s only normal.

The small-framed man approached her further, gently and courteously.  Doctor, he said addressing her with an obvious sense of condescension.  You will be reminded we are on a tight schedule.  I don’t care what you have to do, he said looking at the subject in the uncomfortable wooden chair.  Just do it!

But Sir...

Am I clear, Doctor?  It’s a yes or a no answer.

The director took in a deep breath as she stared into empty space out far away.  Yes Sir.  You are clear.

The bald tyrant man looked at her smack in the eyes, making sure she had well understood.    Good, he said, and began to head out.  Just before he made his exit in all of his splendid arrogance, he turned around and addressed the doctor one more time.  Oh, I almost forgot, he remarked.  I’m sending you four more subjects.  They’re waiting outside right now.  He then made his turnaround and headed out.

Four more subjects, Sir? the doctor-lab-director asked trying to get his attention, but to no avail.  She sighed, and turned to the tech woman near the back.  How the hell are we going to manage the application with five subjects?  We can’t even get it right with one!

The woman shrugged her shoulders.

Doctor, said a tech who sat closer to the doors.  I just got a message saying the new test subjects will now be entering the lab.

The doctor was not happy.  She stood senselessly staring at the doors and not excitedly waiting to see these new subjects.

Sitting now at the row of chairs were, from left to right, a skinny elderly male with sunspots from head to toe.  Next to him sat a young teen male with enough hair to double as a hat, and next to him sat the first original male subject.  To his left sat a young female with shoulder length blond hair with plain Jane looks.  Next to her sat a heavyset middle-aged female who would stare at her twirling thumbs by her thighs.  These subjects sat in silence and remained quite anxious; they were all afraid.

The doctor approached them and, putting her small hands into her coat’s oversized pockets, stood before them looking at each one analytically while forcing a smile.  Hi, she said to them trying to break some ice.

The techs and lab assistants all stared at this group too, also intrigued as hell. 

Right about at this moment, the male teen subject looked up and spoke.  Is this going to hurt?

She immediately approached the boy, and looked down at him, waiting a couple of seconds before her militant and almost parental response.  No, she said to him, but the answer did not sound too convincing.

She then went over to the plain Jane blond, and knelt some to eye level. Once again she cracked another smile; this one was more convincing.  Hi, she said in a rather suave mode.

Hello, said the blond young woman while she was still staring at the floor.

When are you due? asked the doctor.

The girl smiled in a humble sort of way, and took her blue eyes off the floor and focused them on the doctor.  I have two more months.

Nice, the doctor said.  Is it a boy, or girl?

It’s a boy, she replied with a sincere smile.  It was evident this female subject had been blessed with happiness.

Have you thought of a name for him?

The girl shook her head.  No not yet.  We’re still deciding, she said, and after a second more took her shy stare back to the floor.

The doctor could not break out of her smile.  Perhaps this was the legitimate smile she had not had in a long time.

The young woman then looked up at her again.  Do you have any children?

The doctor turned her smile into an icy grimace.  I do not, she replied, standing erect again.  She then withdrew and scurried over to the tech in the back of the lab, the large woman with the overwhelming amount of lab equipment.  There, she looked at the setting for every device available, and made some minor fine adjustments.  I’m curious to see how the fetus reacts to this, she muttered trying to keep it as unnoticed as possible.   She then regained a little confidence, and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.  We’re ready here.

Ready, said one tech.

Ready, said another, then repeated by yet another.

The director then moved to the front of the lab, where she prepared to give the order.  All targets on my command.

Then, the nerdy tech near the front put a sudden stop to the process.  Doctor, he said showing concern.

Rolling her eyes with thinning patience, she turned towards him.  What now?

Doctor, we don’t have the capacity to induct these many subjects.  We could barely do one.  You yourself said the same thing just a few minutes ago.

A deep and troubling silence overcame the room; everyone present waited patiently for an answer.

Work with the numbers then, the director replied staunchly.  Just make it work.  That is what you’ve been hired for; that goes for all of you.

No one responded.  Everyone just waited and pondered on the unknown.

She then gave everyone further orders.  Give the test a sixty second preempt.  No more; no less.

The techs adjusted their virtual panels, and were then ready to begin.

You, she pointed to the outspoken tech.  You lead, she said to him, then sighed and yawned.   I need to take a short break.  I trust when I get back the test will be fully ready to commence. Just get it pre-empted and ready; we don’t have a lot of time.

I’m ready, Doctor, said the tech.

Start preempting now, she said to him, then turned around, and left the room.

The hall was empty and calm as the sound of her heels reverberated throughout the cold concrete walls.  On her way to the break room a couple of coats walked past her, and she greeted them briefly yet courteously.

Just a few steps ahead, she entered the break room, a small ordinary room with bright fluorescent overhead lights and plain white walls.  Laminate cabinets lined the room, and a microwave sat next to a warming half filled coffee pot.  On the other side laid a standard kitchen sink, and to its right sat a dirty toaster.  On the other side of the room stood a refrigerator with hand prints plastered all over.

The weary doctor took a mug from the cabinets and set it down on the laminate countertop, and began pouring a few packets of sweetener into it.  She then grabbed the coffee pot and poured some steaming not-so-fresh brew.  Taking a spoon from the drawer to her left, she stirred it a few times.  Taking a seat in the small table at the center of the room, she began taking sips of her java; she watched the steam go up and dissipate before her eyes.

The place seemed desolate, very quiet and downright solitary. Indeed, the silence was overwhelming.

Right about now, the doctor’s anxiety and curiosity had gotten the best of her.  She gulped down her last bit coffee, got up, put the empty mug in the sink, and rinsed it. She then left it there, and headed back to her lab, this time with a quicker pace.

Getting to the set of doors, she took her glasses off and looked into the eye scanner as a matter of routine.  There she stood still, patiently waiting for the access and worried about the test results she was about to administer.  As she stood there patiently, and worried, the seconds began to feel lengthy; the access message had not yet come on.  Great, she thought.  This was not a good time for a system failure. She pulled away and gave the system a few more seconds to reset.

One more time, she placed her face right up to the scan, making certain to center it correctly, and making sure her eyes focused just perfectly, leaving very little room for error, if any.

A few seconds later and still no message, not even a denial of access.

This was odd, she thought. She then moved away from the device, not sure of what the issue was.

Frustrated, she walked over to the other set of doors down the hall just a few feet away, and tried her luck at that scan system.  Placing her eyes into it, she waited patiently for an access message, but after several seconds got nothing.

She then went back to the first scan, and stood before it, giving it yet one more try.  Again, nothing happened.  By this time, she began getting a bit suspicious.  Perhaps there was a bug in the system she thought. Worse yet, maybe her account had been accidentally reset, but by whom, and why?

Then a most curious thing happened.  With no warning, the scanning system suddenly shut down.  In fact, all the scan systems in the hallway were now disabled and without power. It became clear to her that even the standard backup was not operating.

After pondering on this and considering calling tech support, she slowly inched forward and placed her ear up to the crack where to two doors met.

At that very moment, a loud and deafening thump emerged.  Startled, she jumped away.  She stood in complete perplexity, trying to figure out what the sound was that almost took the doors off their secured hinges.

Then there was another loud thump, and this one made her jump several feet back. Getting close to the doors again, she put her ear up to them again.

Immediately after that, there was yet another bang, followed by another, and in no time there were a series of the same ear-piercing noises.

What’s happening in there! the doctor yelled, banging her own hands on the door, looking for some response. There was none.

Then, a most unexpected thing occurred. Loud screams were heard all over the facility, followed with resounding desperate cries, the yells of people, like burning souls screaming from hell, wanting direly to escape their condemning eternal darkness.

The doctor was now frightened and panicked, as she saw these sturdy massive doors begin to bend outwards towards her.

By now, other strange and, by any stretch of modern science, indescribable sounds began to surface, seemingly the sounds of ferocious animals and beasts.

The doctor immediately began shouting, yelling for security, possibly even for her own life.  The fear she now felt broke this woman into tears, a panic so great she knew she had never experienced.

Soon the central alarm system came on, and an announcement voice came on throughout the entire facility.  Code Red; evacuate and lock all doors, it said repetitiously. Code Red; evacuate and lock all doors.

In no time, security had entered the hall from the one opening atop the spiral stair, all carrying weapons only the military or SWAT would have.  These security agents went far and into the unseen lengths of this hall, ignoring all the screams and for that matter, ignoring her.

It was only then the doctor realized she needed to get away and run for her own life.  Just as she started to do so, the doors opened for just a split second, just enough to get the bottom seam of her coat caught in between them.

Now struggling and tenaciously racing against time, the doctor tried getting out of the coat, shifting, turning, tugging on the sleeves and desperately pulling on it.  It was useless.  At that moment, the doors gave way one more time, and she courageously slid her hands through, indeed a foolish move, to try to get them to open.  In doing so, something grabbed her from inside, and began pulling her in with a force ten times greater than her own.  Screaming, shouting, and crying frantically for help, she was taken in even further, and squeezed in through the door gaps. Out through the bottom opening, something that resembled blood began seeping out, mixed in with other strange fluids, and a putrid mix spewed out a pungent and sickening smell.

The round hatch atop the stairs was then suddenly shut, the sound of its massive locking mechanism echoed through the cold concrete.

At the main level, people were trampling each other in desperate ways to leave the carnage, but every exit was now permanently locked, and sealed. No one could get out, or get in.

Soon, gunfire erupted. The casualties of stray bullets began to drop like squeezed flies. 

Then the hatch, which had been forced shut, exploded outward and off its hard metal hinges, with a force so hard that it literally burst an unfortunate few near it, tossing their cranial remains onto the concrete walls nearby.

This event however, was far from being over.  Agents trying to escape through the set of stairs had been violently pulled back in by whatever thing, or things, were down in that hallway, and shredded body parts spewed back up and out the circular opening. People were desperately hitting on all exit doors, screaming for help, but to no avail.  In little time, body fluids splashed and shredded parts churned out everywhere.

By now, the power had gone out and the building had become dark, and only the faint light of the windows illuminated this unimaginable scene.

Outside, all was quiet and tranquil.  Indeed, it was another business as usual day in this industrial side of town. The sky was clear, and the squawking of crows sitting atop power lines reminded everyone out here that this was just another ordinary day.

In just a few years ahead, the world will face something unthinkable and terrifying, something that would change humanity forever.

Chapter One

Cliff did not think twice about hitting the Enter key. Excellent, said the medium-built thirty-something under his five o’clock breath. All went without a hitch.

They usually do, said Randall, a fellow co-worker and programmer while walking up to Cliff’s cube.

Not always. You know that. How many times we’ve had to stay to fix some broken code?

Well even if this go-live event hadn’t gone smooth, I’m sure I wouldn’t have had worried about it, replied Randall in his usual scruffy manner.

You would if it were your code, Cliff answered. But, everything went all right, and it’s time to go home. T. G. I. F...!

You got that right, brother; it sure as hell is.

Any big plans for the weekend?

Hell yeah, Randall said with a burst of anticipation.

Thought so, Cliff said with a sly smirk. Anything you care to share?

The forty-something man stopped to think for a second. I could, but I’d rather not; at least, not yet.

Cliff already knew what his friend was thinking. I see, he said with a look of apathy. So, what’s her name?

Her name; whose name?

Playing dumb is useless to you. You ought to know this by now.

Randall chuckled. What makes you think there’s a she involved?

This time there was no apathy in Cliff’s tone. You’re not going to tell me her name, are you?

Randall stood thinking for a few seconds. You win. Nope, I’m not, he replied without much fanfare, a major feat for someone who is rough around the edges.

Why not? Cliff asked.

Because, I don’t want to jinx it.

Since when do you keep quiet about some chick’s name?

Randall put his elbow on the partition and leaned comfortably. You know how every time I go out with someone and I talk about it, it never works out for me?

Cliff was not sure what to say. There was, after all, some truism to his co-worker’s statement.

Well this time I’m not saying a word. Not until there is something there; something meaningful. Randall was clearly determined on this.

Okay then, Cliff said, again back to the ho-hum apathy. Whatever floats your boat.

Dude, trust me on this. I have a good feeling about this one.

Oh I have no doubt.

Randall kept shut; he was not too terribly happy about Cliff’s remark. So what are you doing this weekend?

I’ve got no plans for the weekend.

Oh I have no doubt, Randall responded returning the sarcasm.

Okay, so I’m set in my ways; big deal, Cliff admitted.

Dude, it is a big deal. Let the past go; your divorce was no really one’s fault. Let it go. You have a life to live, Randall preached.

Yada, yada, yada.... No idea how many times I’ve heard this; it sounds like an old broken vinyl. You remember those.

Okay, man. There’s a whole world out there you’re depriving yourself of. Only trying to help out a bud, Randall said to him, and this time there was legitimacy in his tone; all kidding was set aside.

Cliff was not even paying attention to his bud. Instead, he was shutting the PC down, and taking his keys and belongings out of his drawer. Randall, my friend, he said to him with a look of apathy on his five o’clock shadowed face. I appreciate all you’re saying... again for the hundredth time... but if that’s ever going to happen, it’ll happen when it happens.

Randall stood with a stone cold face. Okay, he said with just as much indifference. Suit yourself. But I’m going to enjoy myself. At that very moment, his phone rang; it was a loud and obnoxious tone. He brought it into view and immediately recognized the caller. And speaking of which, he said with a colossal grin.

Aren’t you going to answer it?

Nope; I’m going to let it default into voice mail.

Cliff looked at him as if he were looking at some strange unidentified creature.

The tackily expressive man with the pompous character fired back. Well you have to keep them wondering.

If you say so, he responded. In doing so, he could not help noticing the phone Randall held. Did you just get a new phone?

Randall brought the device into front stage. Yep, I sure did. Pretty nice phone, right? It’s loaded with features, and apps.

Impressive, Cliff said. When did you get it?

Just last week, he said handing the device over to Cliff.

Intrigued by it, Cliff looked it over and literally got a feel for it. I like its looks, and it feels sturdy.

You should see what this thing can do, Randall said

I bet; I have no doubt.

So why don’t you go out and get one for yourself?

Cliff thought about that for a few. I don’t know. I guess I don’t need all that fanciness in a phone.

Man, what type of IT developer are you? You work for this huge technology company, and work with the latest state of the art applications and devices, and yet you don’t have a phone to match. I guess working on that special project way back must have done something to you.

If you’re talking about that Weapons Division project, it was years ago and it was shut down; remember that? You were part of it too. Of course, no one ever knew why it was shut, but who cares.

So what? It did something to you. Dude, you develop software. How can an IT guy like you not get into all the latest high-tech stuff? You make plenty of money, and you’re single, so it can’t be that

Yeah, I make plenty of money, all right. Remember, it mostly goes into child support.

Randall in a way felt sorry for the man at times. Dude, these things don’t cost that much. I’ve seen your phone; it’s the biggest piece of junk. Sorry man, I’m only trying to get you to get with it. You only live once.

Look, I’m not putting the new high tech phones down.  I just think some of them are pure waste; they are toys.  But you’re right about my phone. Not sure how it would hold up to these new apps. He then stopped and thought for a moment. Besides, I have had nothing but terrible luck with phones, and the wireless companies that put them out. Every phone I have had, including this one, has brought me nothing but grief. Both the devices themselves and the plans that go with them have always been faulty in every way; dropped calls, lousy batteries, unsolicited text ads; nothing but problems!

Of course you have, Randall exclaimed without surprise. These things aren’t perfect. Besides, you’ve bought noting but middle of the line of phones. I’m telling you, get the top of the line, and you won’t regret it. Think of the great new apps out there; only the new devices can handle them.

Cliff sighed. I don’t know; maybe you’re onto something after all, he said riding the edge of conviction.

Go check them out sometime, seriously. Randall then paused briefly just to let his wiseass side come out. Do it whenever you get bored of your nerdy roommates.

Cliff faked a sarcastic laugh. Hey, leave my nerdy roommates out of this; they help pay the mortgage, plus they’re my friends.

Just messing with you, man. They’re nice guys, said the pompous man with a chuckle. Hey, enough chit-chat. It’s time to get out of here. See you Monday.

Yep. See you on Monday. And have fun with your date.

Oh, you know I will, Randall said scooting out.

Cliff was not going to let another minute go by. He shut off his desk lamp, and called it a day; time for a much-needed beer!

It was early evening now, and Cliff was home doing what he enjoyed doing best, chilling. He popped open his dark bottle of beer, and slowly poured its contents into a glass. He had been waiting for this all day, as he comfortably hung around his house in shorts and a t-shirt, surrounded by a sea of hardwood floor and taupe walls with dark accents.

Living in his urban home, Cliff would spend many a night lounging on his recliner, watching TV, and having a few beers, and perhaps enjoying the occasional company of his highly studious, yet nerdy, roommates.

Cliff sunk into his enthroned recliner with a cold one in his hand.

Have a busy day at work? asked Jon, a gen-x in his early twenties with a chill attitude towards life, sitting in the sofa surrounded by books.

Just the usual, Cliff responded, now glued to the HD image. And how was yours?

It flew. My nose was grounded into the books; I have an exam next week, he said, rubbing his fingers through his short messy black hair.

I’m glad I passed that stage years ago.

I’ve one more year to graduation. I can’t wait! said the roommate almost tasting the excitement. I’ve been in this school, and this city, for three years now and I’m so ready to ship out of here.

Three years here and you still don’t even know your way around yet. Except campus, and some select party spots, Cliff said to him jokingly.

And don’t forget music spots too, Jon replied with a chuckle.

Both men got into a chat about the IT course and the school whose alma mater they all three shared. The synergy in this living scenario worked great, albeit the two roommates being a bit messy. That was not a big issue for Cliff; after all, these two were helping pay the bills. Furthermore, these three personalities intertwined really well. Never had there been any serious issues amongst them, and any disputes were handled in a civil, and fair manner. Both Greg and Jon always respected the house rules, not that there were many of them, and looked up to their landlord and friend for advice, not just about their scholastic subjects, but about life’s issues as well.

Cliff, yelled Greg, his other roommate, while coming out of his room. You got your ticket, right? he asked with his Californian accent, his shoulder length dark blond hair waving about. Please tell me you did.

What ticket? Cliff asked, downing his beer.

What ticket? The ticket for tonight’s concert! The concert you’ve been waiting to see for eons. I sent you a text message and also left you voice mail. We got ours’ already.

Cliff felt like it was almost the end of the world for him. Shit! No way! Tell me you’re wrong and that it’s not tonight.

Both roommates looked at each other, and at him, in complete disbelief.

Cliff himself was in disbelief. He ran across the room to get his phone. Pressing a few keys with frustration, he noticed there was no text, and for that matter, no voice message either. No messages here.

Dude, look at this, Greg said as he showed Cliff his sent messages. I can even show you my call log. You’re right here, as are my texts, and the call to you. There’re no more tickets left; that’s it, sold out.

Maybe you can go online and see if anyone’s selling their tickets. You never know, Jon said to him.

Sorry man. I did everything I could to get hold of you, Greg said, displaying disappointment.

Cliff shook his head. It’s not your fault. It’s the phone’s.

No way, man. It’s your fault, for not updating that piece of garbage, Greg said. This isn’t the first time this shit happens to you. Your phone drops just about every one of my messages; even some calls, just whenever it wants to.

Cliff just