The Mechanic

-Chapter One-

Year: 2021

Location: Olympia, Washington, US

Procrastination is Lottie Lang's favorite place to go on vacation. Denial is a close second, but procrastination has always been, and will always be, the first. Today, however, she is actually getting something done for once, even though it has taken her five whole years to get around to it.

She is recreating her Software, the same one that housed her characters, the same one that fried her computer, and the same one that had dropped her into her boss, Paul's, lap.

So, this morning, with a mug of ramen in hand and tension thick around her like a sopping-wet blanket, she creates it all over again, copying the codes and passwords onto the new programming, retelling the first story, unfolding all of that drama. Again.

Her fingers don't fly over the keys quite like they used to when she did things like this—she's learned since then to be cautious of imaginary people and their lives—but that doesn't mean that she isn't excited. She's very excited, in a nervous, wired, sort of way.

Her boss and boyfriend, Paul, walks into the living room, his long limbs swinging with each stride, and smiles. "How is it going?"

She shrugs, dropping her hands from the keyboard to her lap. "Fine. I guess. I'm a little nervous."

"At least you're actually doing it, and not deciding to put it off for five more years."

With a slow shake of her head, Lottie looks back to the computer screen, and traces the codes and numbers with her nut-brown eyes. "I waited for a reason, you know. That was a pretty traumatizing experience."

He nods, forehead furrowed. "Well, aside from that, what's going on? Do you know how this all is going to work?"

She releases a short laugh. "No idea. I mean, will the whole thing restart? Will it pick up where it left off? Are they even going to be the same people? The possibilities are endless. What if it doesn't work at all? That's a good one."

"It's going to work, I know it. Because you're a genius." He grins, his blue eyes twinkling a little.

"Maybe." She continues typing, spilling out character numbers and place settings from memory. This all had better work. Because though Lottie hates to admit it, more of her hopes and dreams are riding on this than on anything else.

Name: Femi (last name nonexistent)

Occupation: Painter

Fatal flaw: The inability to love Paris Verloren

And in that moment, somewhere in the city of Olympia, a redheaded painter disappears, leaving behind an apartment full of sleep medication, buckets of paints and paintbrushes, and one very worn, very stained, gray hoodie.

- - -

Year: Unknown

Location: Central

The air in my shop is so dusty that it makes my nose itch as I clumsily lift the hood of my latest project. Unlike my normal gadgets and things to fix as a mechanic, this thing is made of wood. The man who brought it to me said it was ebony, actually.

My hand twitches, and I drop an allen wrench down inside it, striking several wires and causing the contraption to emit the ugliest noise I've ever heard.