Despite everything, criminals still exist. In fact, with all the technology, crime of the hacking variety has increased immensely.

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Have you ever slept so well that you wake up completely refreshed and ready for the day?

Neither have I.

My eyes tiredly flutter open as I hear birds chirp loudly. Tempted to simply roll over and go back to sleep, I keep my eyes open as memories of the party flicker through my mind.

Michael.

I shoot up in bed and look around my room, only to find it empty. I mean, what was I expecting? Michael carrying me to my room like a princess and staying the night in my bed? Well, I am just in my boxers... Did I get undressed or did Michael do it for me?

I flush brightly at the thought.

I can't remember what happened. So sue me.

Pulling on some sweatpants, I decide to go downstairs to eat. It's a little passed 7am on a Saturday, so neither of my "roomies" should be up just yet. I trot down the stairs feeling a slight chill. It's been a long time since I've been shirtless, but it feels good to have my tattoos out in the open.

They're frowned upon, so I always have to hide them. Tattoos with my race is like a fingerprint. They can be similar, but they're never exactly the same. Mine are in the shape of a star with swirls and streaks coming from it. The star rests just above my collarbone in between my shoulder and neck on my right side, and the the swirls and streaks stream down the side of my chest, my shoulder, and the side of my back. It's a silvery color that seems to shimmer in light. I've always loved it, because my mom always said that it made me her little shooting star. The thing about Dakarians is that we are born with their tattoos in our skin, but they aren't given color until circuitry is put into our body after we're born. It's a beautiful side affect, and it doesn't bother me in the slightest, unlike a lot of people.

Shuffling into the kitchen, I make myself some coffee and a bowl of cereal. I'm too lazy to make anything else. I plop down at the table and tiredly stretch before starting to eat.

"What the hell is that?"

I turn towards Michael in surprise as he stares at my shoulder in confusion. My gaze flickers to the tattoo and back to the confused blonde as a spoon hangs from my mouth. He walks over in loose pajama pants and a tight wife beater. His normally pulled back hair is messy and unbrushed, making him look utterly adorable.

No. Not adorable. Stop it Conrad.

"This?" I ask, pulling out the spoon and gesturing to my tattoo with a mouthful of cereal.

He nods and collapses into the chair next to me.

"Every one of my kind has it," I tell him after swallowing my food. "It's proof of the circuitry in our bodies."

He stares at it for a moment, perplexed. He gently brushes his fingertips along the mark, making me shudder.

"You probably shouldn't do that," I warn quietly, lowering my head in embarrassment.

"What? Why the fuck not?" He seems kind of angry that I won't let him touch it.

I swallow and shift awkwardly. "It's...uh, sensitive..." My gaze flicks to him quickly, barely catching the blush build onto his face.

"Oh."

I let out a nervous laugh and run a hand through my thick messy curls. "Yeah." I look over to him as he avoids my gaze uncomfortably. "Thanks again for helping me," I say with a small smile as his chocolate gaze reverts to me. He looks at me and leans onto the table, leaving only a foot of space between us. My palms grow sweaty, and I swallow nervously as he studies me closely.

"He didn't hurt you, right?" He asks softly, gently touching where the bastard's lips had been on my neck.

I feel myself lean into the touch before responding. "Not passed that," I say quietly, gesturing to his gentle fingertips against my skin.

"Good," he whispers, looking relieved as he gazes into my eyes. I can feel the deep exhale he let's out as his body relaxes.

He places his whole hand onto my skin, his fingers resting on the nape of my neck. My eyes clothes in contentment as I relax into his touch. Something about his skin on mine is so grounding.

My eyes open ever so slightly as I feel his breath come closer. He's leaning towards me slowly, making my heart beat out of my chest. I can't believe this is really happening. A small, content smile breaks across his face as our lips brush slightly. His hand settles on my cheek as his nose bumps mine.

"Well good morning to you guys, too."

We break apart hastily and look to see Danny standing in the doorway with a mischievous grin plastered onto his face.

Michael swiftly leaves the room, mumbling something about a shower before trudging up the stairs loudly.

I swallow, barely able to remind myself that what almost happened was indeed real.

"Oh don't look so blue," Danny jokes, strutting into the kitchen in baggy clothes.

I roll my eyes at his stupid puns and return to my food, still extremely confused.

What the hell was that?

I run a hand through my hair and sigh heavily before quickly finishing my breakfast. Moving to the living room, I turn on the news and observe it boredly.

About ten minutes later, Danny walks in with a plate full of scrambled eggs and sits with me silently. Stories about neighborhood robberies keep being presented. Thankfully, no one has been hurt yet, but they're supposed to be armed and dangerous.

"I hope they don't get in here," I murmur to myself.

Danny chuckles with a mouth full of egg. "Don't worry about it. The probability of that happening is extremely small."

"Still doesn't make me feel any better."

He shrugs and stuffs more eggs into his mouth.

Gee. That sure is reassuring.

*TIME SKIP BECAUSE MY FORESHADOWING IS TOO OBVIOUS*

I paced back and forth in my room. I haven't talked to Michael since that incident this morning. Well, it's more like he hasn't talked to me. After his shower, he rushed out of the house, saying he was going out. He didn't say where or how long he'd be out, and that worries me immensely.

"Hey, Conrad," Danny calls to me from my bedroom doorway, making me turn to him. "I'm heading to bed. Dont worry too much about Michael. I'm sure he just needs time to sort some things out."

I nod slowly and bite my lip before letting out a sigh. "I'm just worried about him," I admit softly, staring out at the dark sky. The stars look beautiful tonight. Of course, they're all fake, scientific projections and such.

"Get some sleep, kid," he says quietly, heading up to his own room all the way on the third floor.

I tiredly pull off my sweatshirt, shirt, and jeans, leaving myself in my boxers. Striding over to my dresser, I pull on some shorts and a T-shirt before sitting on my bed.

I'm startled as a noise sounds from downstairs, making me jump. I sigh. Michael, that asshole.

I don't understand why I feel so relieved, but I run down to greet him anyway.

"God, Michael, why the hell were you out so... You're not Michael." Standing in front of me are two men with guns clutched in their gloved hands. I feel panic race through me as one of them glares at me through his mask, raising the gun at me.

"Make any noise, and I'll shoot you," he threatens in a scratchy voice I'm willing to bet isn't his own.

I feel myself nod shakily as the other rushes forward with duct tape. He tightly wraps my wrists together behind my back and shoves me to the ground, where he binds my ankles in the same manner. I'm shoved to the wall as duct tape is placed over my mouth.

Thank God I don't have a stuffed nose.

They start ransacking the place and I feel tears cascade down my face. Shame, guilt, fear, and panic all course through me, blurring my vision with tears. I hear a rather loud whimper escape me, pissing one of them off.

"I said don't make a sound," he growls out, kicking me in the abdomen.

Pain flashes through me, and I lurch forward. Forcing myself to stay quiet, I silently pray that Michael doesn't come home in the middle of this. I don't want him getting hurt.

"If you move, we'll kill you." They charge up the stairs, quietly enough to not be noticed by Danny.

I'm shaking and crying uncontrollably. Why can't I do anything? Why am I so helpless? Why can't I protect my new family?

The sound of the door unlocking makes me hold my breath.

Oh my god, why the hell do you decide come home now?

Michael shuffles inside tiredly, followed by two guys I've never seen before.

"My god, D, I don't like him," he says with a relaxed laugh.

Shit. They're being too loud.

I call out to him, forgetting for a moment that I can't speak. A muffled, weak cry escapes me, and all of their gazes snap to me. Three pairs of brown eyes widen as they take in the situation I'm in.

In a flash, Michael is kneeling in front of me, slowly removing the tape from my mouth. Immediately, I'm whispering in a rush. "Get the hell out of here you idiot!"

His eyes betray the panic he feels. "Who?" He asks softly, his hand shaking as he holds my face.

More tears drip from my eyes before footsteps sound from the stairs. "Put the tape back on and hide," I whisper. He shakes his head slightly, opening and closing his mouth as if silently speaking. "Now," I order him desperately.

Shakily, he obeys and drags his friends off to hide behind the couch. They duck behind the leather seating in time for the men to return, grumbling about something.

"Oh, looky here," one of them calls out, "freak show here's been a good boy." He grins at me wickedly. "Since there isn't much here," he continues, squatting down in front of me, "how about you be our reward?" He smirks at me sickeningly before running a pudgy finger along my cheek. My eyes widen in shock before I feel anger and disgust course through my veins.

He slowly removes the tape from my mouth and smiles at me, displaying his ugly, misshapen and oddly colored teeth.

God, why does the guy trying to force himself on me have to be hideous and creepy?

"Whatcha say, blue?" He snickers. "Wanna be a good boy for me?"

My jaw clenches angrily as his dark brown, almost black, eyes gaze at me with lust.

I throw my head forward, catching his nose in a headbutt. "Go to hell you sick son of a bitch!"

He growls and moves to punch me, landing a hit on my cheek. I spit out the sapphire liquid, ignoring the overly sweet taste of my kind's blood. Flashing him a glare, I struggle in my bonds as he stands up and stalks angrily over to his friend, who watched everything with disinterest.

Focusing, I remember something my dad taught me. You see, electricity can do a lot of things, and since there's electricity in my body...

I wince as my hands feel hot when I order my circuits to rise in temperature. The tape easily rips apart, but a burning smell fills the air.

"Hey you smell that?" One of the thugs asks the one who came onto me. "Smells like something burning," he adds, sniffing the air.

He moves to check out the kitchen as I shift to my knees, grabbing the tape on my ankles and ripping it as well.

"Yeah, well, I'll have some fun while you deal with that." The pervert walks over to me and cocks his gun, pointing it at me.

Just a little closer.

He steps just within arms reach.

It's close enough.

Quickly jumping to my feet, I manage to land a kick in the groin. As he falls to his knees and holds himself in pain, I slam my palm to his ear, popping his eardrum rather painfully. My dad taught me that one. Unfortunately, the piece of shit managed to cry out, making the other come running out of the kitchen in a hurry. He aims his gun at me and eyes his buddy on the ground in a panic. He's too far away for me to do anything, and he's got a weapon.

Man, I really should've thought this through more.

Apparently, luck is on my side, because his gun jams when he tries to pull the trigger. As I rush forward towards him, he drops his gun in a panic. I land a fist against his face, angry and ready for revenge. He falls to the floor, and I let my fists reign down with my fury.

Familiar tan hands, pull me away by my underarms, but that doesn't stop me from yelling at them. "You sick sons of bitches!"

"Conrad," Michael whispers to me, pulling me around to face him. He looks at me, and the tears slowly streaming down his face shock me enough to calm me down.

I swallow thickly before reaching up and gently wiping away the tears. He pulls me to his chest and holds me in place by the back of my head. It's not like I'd pull away, though. His fingers thread through my hair as both of us breathe shakily.

He releases me slowly and looks down to me, tears still in his eyes. "Please don't cry," I murmur as he wipes away my own tears.

"I won't if you don't," he promises, cupping my face and laughing through the tears. I laugh a little, too.

"Told you he liked him," someone says from off to the side.

I look over to find two guys standing over the now tied up criminals. One has shaggy brown hair and matching light brown eyes, and the other has closely cropped black hair with dark brown eyes. The one with darker eyes is smirking at us like he won a bet and the other looks like a teenage girl watching a romance movie.

"Hi, I'm Alex," the brunette greets with a small wave. He seems like one of those respectful boys with good manners and etiquette.

"I'm Damien," the other adds with a nod. He gives off the more bad boy vibe. How the hell they came to be friends is a story I'd like to hear.

"The cops are on their way," Danny says, strutting down the stairs in his pajamas.

I breathe a sigh of relief and run a hand through my hair. "Why us?" I ask no one in particular.

"We were hired," one of the thugs pipes up, diverting our attention to him.

"What?" Michael asks, sounding extremely angry.

They both sigh and look at each other before the creepy one speaks up. "We don't know who they are, but someone wanted us to kidnap little blue right there." He gestures to me. "They paid us extra to bring you back alive, but now that we're going to jail, we don't gotta worry about him."

My blood runs cold.

Someone wants to kidnap me?

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Yea this one doesn't make much sense I know, but I'm getting the real plot rolling so idgaf anymore. Any who I hope y'all nuggets enjoyed this long and weird chapter lol! See y'all nuggety readers in the next update!! Don't forget to comment your suggestions I love reading em! Bai!!! >:3

-IggyScones