The Coffee Shop On Dreary Lane

Whirring. Whispering.

All that was there is gone and empty, and all that is left is darkness. At least that is how it seems. The sensation of floating is all that they receive.
"Embry? Reagan? You there? ANYBODY?" Eve shouts. Fear creeps through Eve, from her heart beating faster... It does not beat. It is as though her heart isn't there. No response from Embry. No response from Reagan. It is lonely and the presence of either would be appreciated. She can not move, and what is left is her mind. It could have been eaten away or faded away or about to be gone. She worries about the coffee shop over and over again. This is a regular occurrence, to worry about the coffee shop. It is peaceful, but it is lonely, and she is afraid.

"Reagan? Eve? Where the hell are you?" Embry finds comfort in the floating sensation. He does not prefer to be alone, but there is an indescribable something that he missed while in the coffee shop. It has to be peacefulness. Content, that could have come from being with Reagan. When Embry was a kid he had rarely felt affection towards friends, but he had not had many. Conrad was all he had, his best friend. His parents never pushed him to be more affectionate; they hadn't cared what he did. This landed him with several injuries, mostly from skateboarding. His avoidance of the spotlight adversely affected his pining for attention. Being alone is preferable in no way, there is no one to ask questions, but even so he is okay. If he could communicate through touch, he thinks, then he won't have to admit anything about himself.
  Reagan's past... as well as Eve's past are concepts he is eager to figure out. For now he is stuck with floating, which is turning out to be a mundane task.

It is a cold feeling for Reagan. They are simply reminiscent and tired. Memories of waiting at a school bus stop flood their mind. Being called the wrong name. Being called names. Feeling wrong, shifting to hide their chest. Their few friends laughing with them, best friends. The engine of the bus and the smell of gas were present. Being punched in the face, the crack of their jaw. Friends rushing to their side. Whispers. Whispers. Whispers. Now there is a whirring that Reagan can hear. Something is starting, or, turning on.

There are vague impressions of voices passing through.

"Re..." Suddenly voices are clearer, sharper.
"Reagan, it's Embry. I can't see you or feel anything. It's irritating."
"Hello. This is Eve. Same as you, except I'm terrified."
"This is Reagan. I am terrified, but at least I know you all are here. It's dark."

The whirring is louder now. Light patterns flutter behind the groups eyes. It is warmer somehow, lighter. The voices recede and fade away. All of the three are left alone once again, but this time it is brighter. Reagan stirs, moving a leg then an arm. Almost as if they were waking up. They open their eyes with a jolt.
"The results have been successful Reagan. Thank you for participating. I can show you the results if you like?" A disembodied voice says.
Reagan's eyes flicker around the room. There are fluorescent lights on the ceiling and large machines, similar to computers, lining the walls. On the screens there are multiple places. On the largest one there's a road, a coffee shop and a ceramics shop.
Reagan realizes that there are wires on their body, connected to them by sections. They pull them off and step out of the square platform and walls that the wires are hooked to.
"Hello Reagan. You may leave your experimentation room." The voice is coming from a machine, complete with buttons and speakers, in the center of the room.
"I don't remember signing up for this. Honestly, I don't know how I got here. Not knowing is a complicated matter," Reagan comments. There's a golden plaque on the machine in front of Reagan. It reads 'The Posthuman Project'.
"How did I get here?" Reagan asks to nobody at all.
"Unfortunately" the machine starts to speak, "some who are experimented on experience memory loss and try to rationalize the concept of being only a somewhat conscious being. Coming up with rationalizations such as living forever, having parents who died young et. cetera. Some have visions of an older self while in The Wire. For this we give the one who is experimented on documents of their life hoping to jog their memory."
Reagan sighs, knowing this gives them a bit of hope. Although this doesn't answer their question, how did they get here?
The metallic taste of the room is left in their mouth after the sigh.
"What's the drawback?" Reagan asks.
"The person put into The Wire may never see their family or friends again as their life is prolonged, and their body does not age for a few years. They are given a set of friends to travel with. For the rest of their life, they are the property of the Posthuman organization."
Reagan looks down at their feet. There couldn't be a rational reason to agree to this. Their body looks young enough. Slim, unwrinkled and wearing pink sneakers. They assume they are around twenty years old. That would mean at least two years in this machine.
"The one experimented on receives a weighty amount of money afterwards and documents with their results. We hope to create a newer, better world. Goodbye Reagan." At that, the machine spits out multiple papers out of slits near the ground. One paper is titled The Diary of Reagan. Another titled Test Results: Reagan Conteh. Lastly, Reagan's Family Tree.
Reagan is left facing a door and all that is left to do is open it. They have to find Embry and Eve.