Where the Lines Overlap Ch. 01

I mean, the President's son was gay, and he seemed perfectly happy. Lunaris didn't hate him, and by extension, didn't hate me.

After the initial shock of the situation wore off, I was finally able to fully comprehend what that meant for me. I had always figured I was going to keep the secret that I was gay my entire life, never telling anyone, but now that may not have to be the case anymore. It was that same night that I caved and told Ken about my preference for boys, and the little twerp had the nerve to smirk and tell me he had known all along. I can remember that day like it was the back of my hand.

"Ken, I'm gay," I whispered, as if speaking it aloud was taboo.

"Yeah, and we breathe oxygen," he replied, like the information that I was gay was common knowledge.

"You knew?" my voice rising in volume dramatically?

"Well of course I knew man, I'm your twin. When are you gonna get that fact into that thick head of yours?" he laughed, knocking me lightly on my head. Two very distinct emotions filled me at that point; Happiness and anger. Happiness at the fact that my brother at least didn't seemed too turned off by the idea that I was gay, and anger at him for not having said anything to me about it. I mean, he knew, kept quiet and left me to suffer in silence. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hug him, or punch his lights out, especially with that smug look he kept shooting me. His smirk slowly faded though, looking at me with a calm and smiling expression. "Seriously though, I'm so happy you finally decided to tell me."

That sentence alone, told me everything I wanted to hear. It told me how Ken hadn't said anything, letting me do it whenever I felt that I was ready. It told me, no matter what was going to happen, he was going to be standing beside me supporting me. But most of all, it told me how much he loved me and reminded me how much he meant to me too.

Without warning, I pulled Ken into the hug that had won out on my internal conflict between harming or hugging my brother. He chuckled against my shoulder and he wrapped his own arms around my me. "Thanks Ken. No matter what I say all the time, know that you really are the best brother I could have asked for," I muttered.

"I'm awesome like that," he joked, causing me to chuckle as we broke our embrace. I rolled my eyes at his sense of modesty, before my face fell and once again returned to its worried look. Ken, noticing my change in expression, said, "Well, don't disagree so quickly."

"How do you think Mom and Dad are gonna take it?" I asked, making known the question that had been bugging me for the entire day. Sure I had inkling as to how Ken would have reacted but my parents were a whole different matter.

"Why are you worried? Weren't you listening just now?" he asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Listening to what?"

"Oh geez, you really weren't," Ken dropped his head, slapping a palm to his forehead in frustration. "Mom and Dad are fine. Mom herself said, and I quote, 'About time that stupid law was abolished'," Ken mimicked, placing his hands at his hip in classic Mom fashion.

"She said that?"

"Yeah. Dad agreed too, so you really shouldn't worry."

"But then again, that's when it's someone else's kid. Would they react the same if it was their own flesh and blood?" I asked. Sure it may have been a positive sign, but not fully indicative of how they would take their son announcing the same.

"Dude, give the folks a little credit will you? They're not heartless."

Turns out I really didn't need to worry at all. I came out to them a few days later, Ken fully supportive and by my side should he be needed, but he wasn't. My parent's reaction was even better than my brother's, simply looking at me and smiling.

"Okay. We still love you, now get ready for dinner, I'm starving," my dad had said. It wasn't even an issue in their eyes, nothing that needed a long talk filled with emotional breakdowns. It was just another characteristic of me, and I loved my parents even more for it.

The tram coming to a stop knocked me out of my flashback, seeing Ken strolling out without even waiting for me. I ran to catch up with him. "Leave me there why don't you."

"You seemed deep in thought. I didn't wanna interrupt," he deadpanned. He would have loved if I was late for class. He loved any chance of letting me get into trouble. He says he's trying to break my goody two shoes mentality, which actually seemed to be working. Sure I still followed the rules most of the time, but I could now break a few rules here and there without going all nervous and stuff.

"I still find it strange that you are the bad influence on me. Isn't the older brother always the bad influence?" I asked. It was one of the strangest things in our little relationship. The smart, nerdy one had a bad streak while the brawny, not-so-smart (I refuse to call myself dumb) one was a stick in the mud.

"Oh now you're just perpetuating stereotypes. Do you want to add how, the jock is gay while the nerd is straight?" he mocked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Touché."

"Besides, don't act like your way older than I am. You're only six minutes older." Ken had never liked the fact that he was the younger brother. Most people, me included, wouldn't have cared if I was older or younger, especially since the difference was a matter of minutes, but Ken had always been perturbed by that fact. Personally, I think it's an inferiority complex, which is totally absurd seeing how wrong it is. You see, even though I'm older, I was never really the strong willed one. Ken was always the 'big brother' in our relationship. It was always me who had to go to him for advice and never did he ever need the same from me. He was independent and mature, although he didn't seem like it at times.

"Still, I'm older," I said, teasing him. See what I mean, I'm not the mature one.

"Whatever," he replied, flipping me the finger and turning back to the building we were heading for.

I looked at the glass facade of the learning centre and had to suppress the shiver that I instantly felt. It had been almost seven years since I stepped foot in the building, back when we were still having our theory CKT sessions. Suffice to say, the place didn't hold particularly good memories for me, judging from my sub par theory test results.

I watched as Ken walked through the glass doors, which automatically parted when he stepped towards it. Unlike me, the look that washed over Ken's face could only be what I figured was nostalgia. He was the good student and he loved studying, so naturally returning here would have been a pleasant experience for him.

"Oh man, it's been so long. Too long," he said, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Not long enough if you asked me," I replied, taking in the clean, almost sterile environment of the learning centre.

"Oh come on, in a few weeks, we'll be back here taking the test and then you can say hello to the end of your formal education. Look forward to that at least."

I grunted in response, following behind Ken as we made our way to the reception counter, a droid behind the desk.

"Good morning. Welcome to the Sector 5 learning centre. How may I help you?" the droid spoke.

"Hi, we're from class group 408. We were told to report here for an interview of some sort?" Ken said, explaining their visit.

"Ah yes. Please proceed down the left corridor. You'll be in room 10B on the left," the droid instructed.

"Thanks," Ken replied, immediately going off in the specified direction. I followed by his side as we made our way down the white walled corridor, passing by rooms I knew to be classes filled with Cognitive Knowledge Transfer or more commonly known as CKT systems. We walked passed them, scanning the doors for the one labelled 10B. Finally, near the end of the hallway, the door came into view, the room number clearly engraved on the brushed metal door.

Stepping up to the door, it slid open with a distinct whoosh, revealing a small room with chairs lining the space. There were already a few people seated, others students in our class group, some of them chatting within their circles. Our arrival caught the attention of the room's occupants as they looked up from their conversations.

Both Ken and I returned the obligatory waves that they shot our way. Class groups weren't normally very close, merely acquaintances, but studying with the same group of people for more than a decade made you foster some sort of friendship, no matter how small. You may find it funny that class groups don't start developing close friendships, seeing that we spent so much time together but that just wasn't the case.

Class groups were based on birthdays, with Lunarisions born within a specific timeframe put together. That group never changes for 14 years, the length of their education. That being said, seeing that most of that time was spent either immersed in the CKT system, or working as an intern among other permanent workers, students just didn't get the chance to interact to the point of fostering a close bond.

I proceeded to take a seat in one of the hard chairs, remembering the horribly uncomfortable seats that stocked the learning centre. I glanced over at Ken who had gone over to one of the larger congregation of students, speaking to the gaggle of 20 year olds. A few shoulder shrugs and a couple of shaken heads marked the end of Ken's little conversation, turning from the group and taking a seat next to me.

"Seems like they don't know what this interview's about either," he grumbled, slouching in his seat.

"Don't sweat it. We'll probably know all about it once the class coordinator comes in," I replied.

True enough, it was only ten minutes later that the coordinator stepped through the door. Before that, the rest of the students from class group 408 had streamed in, and many of whom had done exactly what Ken had, jumping from group to group asking if anyone knew what the agenda for the day was. They all got the same replies.

"Good morning everyone," the class coordinator spoke, a little too much pep in her tone for my liking. "I would firstly, like to congratulate you on your soon to be completed stint in academics. In a few weeks time, you'll all be taking the test and soon after that, integrate into the Lunaris workforce. Isn't that awesome?"

A few cheers went up at the back of the class, but mostly everyone, like myself was just taken aback by this lady's overenthusiastic personality. This had to be the most bubbly coordinator I had ever met.

"Now, I know that a lot of you are probably wondering what you're doing here today. Well, we have a special visitor who will be conducting your interview. Don't worry, it's a very informal interview and it's just to get to know you better as well as help you integrate into society more easily." She smiled to the class, in what I assume is a strange attempt to put at ease anyone who might have been nervous about the whole thing, but her creepy smile was probably counterproductive.

"If you have any questions during the course of the interview, you are encouraged to voice them to the interviewer. We'll proceed by age, starting with the youngest," she stopped, looking at the tablet she held in her hands. "Natalie Haver. Please follow me."

At the back of the class, I saw Natalie get up as she followed the coordinator out the door. I sighed, knowing that Ken and I would be waiting a long time, seeing that we were the oldest in our class group. "I guess it's the waiting game then," I said, crossing my arms and leaning back in the hard chair, trying my hardest to find a comfortable position.

"Who do you think this 'special visitor' is anyway?" Ken asked, watching the door close as Natalie left.

"Definitely an elite. As for who specifically, I have no clue. Sounds like someone important though."

"Yeah...It's strange though, isn't it?"

"How so?" I asked, curious as to Ken's thought process.

"I mean, won't important elites have more pressing matters to attend to than a class interview for graduating natals?" Ken said, trying to explain to me why he thought the way he did. "Hell, even the least important elites don't do stuff like this."

"You think something's fishy here?"

"No no, nothing like that. I'm just wondering who could it be? And what would make them want to do what I imagine is actually a natal's job," Ken said, his face scrunched up as he concentrated, fingers moving to rub his knuckles. I laughed, turning away from my brother. It was so like him to get so perturbed by something like this. Blame it on his need to know or whatever.

"Don't hurt yourself thinking too hard big boy." I said. Ken didn't listen to me though, mumbling to himself as he analyzed and broke down the situation in his mind. I shook my head at him, chuckling. Me on the other hand, didn't really care who this mystery interviewer was.

I stared at the wall ahead of me, memorizing the little cracks that meandered down from the ceiling, trying to make time pass as fast as possible. It always helped me, thinking about mindless stuff like that, which distracted me from my own thoughts. Thoughts, that could eventually lead to more headaches than I would have liked. Yes, thinking about nothing was how I liked it.

Of course, the wall could only hold my attention for so long, eventually turning my attention to my BIC secured to my wrist. I swiped across the screen, bringing the device to life. I scrolled through the menus, not really aiming to do anything, not that I had much to do even if I wanted to. Our Biologically Integrated Communicators may have been state of the art but I had always wished there was more we could use it for. I mean we can make calls and stuff, set alarms and shit like that but nothing much else. Okay fine, it could do a lot more than that, like monitor our vitals and track our whereabouts, but things like that were not in our control.

I could still remember when Everett Dart was convicted all those years back, for unethical use of nano bot technology in our BICs. There was a sort of uneasiness that came with the news that all of us had nano bots, ready at anytime to destroy our bodies from the inside. Of course, with this news also came advancements to the technology. The Lunaris council had decided, unanimously too, that the lethal capabilities of the nano bots to be deactivated permanently. Instead, the technology has been used extensively in the medical field, healing severe wounds and illnesses at the fraction of the time.

"Hey, I'm next," Ken said to my right, pulling me from my thoughts.

"What?" I asked, a little dazed.

"I'm next for the interview," Ken explained. At his words, my eyes moved to scan the room we were in, which was now empty except for the two of us. I didn't even know I had gotten lost in my thoughts so much that time had seemingly flew by.

"Oh right," At the same moment, the door slid open and the coordinator stood there, looking at her tablet briefly before calling out Ken's name. Ken stood from his seat, straightening the shirt he was wearing, which had slight creases here and there from sitting in the chair for an extended period of time.

"Please follow me," she said, turning and waiting by the door for Ken. I watched as Ken exited, leaving me all alone in the empty classroom.

Finally alone in the room, the silence was slightly unnerving. It was not often that I was ever alone, always having at least one other person around. Even at home, in the solitude of my room, I was never truly alone, hearing the occasion bump from Ken's room next to mine, or the soft hum of the television as my parents watched it in the living room. No, this silence was very new to me.

Still I sat there, instead listening to silence, the slight ringing that you hear when everything was quiet buzzed softly in my ear. It was strangely hypnotic, losing my thoughts to the sound. Yeah, it didn't take a lot to occupy my mind, as you could probably tell by now. Sometimes, it makes it a little hard to focus but most of the time, I relished it. After all, it made waiting a whole lot more bearable.

True enough, before I knew it, the whoosh of the door sliding open broke the silence of the room, pulling me from my daydream. "Kevin Branson," the coordinator called, as if waiting for the correct person to step forward. I raised an eyebrow, knowing that I was the last person and that could have only been me. I ignored her though, getting up.

My muscles groaned in protest, stiff from the uncomfortable position I had been in. I looked at my watch, noting that it had been two hours since the start of the interviews. No wonder my body ached. I stretched, loosening the knots in my joints, in turn causing some of them to crack, immediately filling me with relief.

I walked out the room, seeing Ken waiting outside in the hallway. "Hey, how was it?"

"Listen man, you can't—" Ken started, but was cut off by the coordinator.

"Please refrain from discussing the interview until after everyone has taken it," she smiled, ushering me forward away from Ken. I could see Ken almost protesting, but he said nothing else.

"Wait for me, will you?" I called out behind my shoulder, briefly seeing Ken nod before I was pushed into the interview room.

I looked in, seeing that there was no one in the room. Before I could ask, the coordinator spoke up, "Mr Harrison would be back shortly. Please, have a seat." I followed her instructions, hearing the door close behind me.

I took the time to take in the room. It was an office of sorts, a glass desk standing in the middle of it. To the left was row after row of books, all stacked nicely and according to height from tallest to shortest. I thought that whoever this office belonged to had to be mildly OCD. The right wall held a large screen TV that was mounted into the panel, the edge of the screen transitioning smoothly to the white backdrop. Behind the desk, shelves held up small ornaments that I could only describe as artistic sculptures, with no real form to any of them, but all seemingly equal distance apart, further evidence of the occupant's obsessive compulsive tendencies.

The sound of the door opening behind me caught my attention. "Sorry for the wait. I had to take quick water break," the interviewer said. I turned to have a look at this 'special visitor' and my mouth instantly fell. "Hi, my name is—"

I couldn't help but interrupt him, "Will Harrison."

All he did was smile as he made his way over to his seat. "I see you know who I am," he said warmly. Of course I knew who he was; he was basically my hero. With his black hair that was combed off to the side in a neat fashion, his face held traits of his mixed natal heritage. Dressed in his suit, he looked every part an elite, but his face was classic natal.

Will Harrison was the person who helped uncover Everett Dart's crimes. He was the first, and so far only, natal-elite transition. But most importantly, he was the husband of Thane Hopper, the President's openly gay son. It was Will and Thane that paved the way for homosexual acceptance on Lunaris, and because of them, I was able to live life as an open gay guy.

I nodded dumbly at his comment. "I...I uh...can't believe it's actually you."

Will chuckled, "I've gotta say, I've had people recognize me before, but no one had ever have a reaction like yours." Blood immediately rushed to my cheeks as I closed my mouth and averted my stare. Wow, talk about embarrassing myself in front of my idol. "Oh don't be embarrassed, I'm flattered."

"I'm sorry. It's just...you're kinda like my hero," I muttered, still not looking up at him.

"Hero? Well, I won't actually call myself that. I'm just a normal person." I finally looked up and saw that a small blush had graced his features. Shoot, I didn't expect someone like him to be embarrassed by comments like that. He probably heard it a lot right?