I pulled my hood up, ducking my head and looking down at the gray and dirty sidewalk. I glanced nervously around, making sure no Watchers were around. It was pretty easy to notice me considering I was one of just a few people without a peace-mask, or, as I call them, suppressors, strapped over my mouth. I clutched the rolled up barcode in my pocket, ducking my head even further. Just a few more feet I told myself. Finally the tire of the bus appeared in my line of sight and I slid my hood down, stepping up the stairs and handing the driver my ticket. Everyone stared at the wanted kid without a suppressor, strolling down the aisle. I took a seat at the back, right next to a drop-down microphone. Perfect.
The bus began to lurch forward, most people had now returned to their previous activities, reading, using their phones and laptops, and listening to the trash this world calls music. I, however, began unrolling my barcode. I pulled it out of my pocket and smoothed it over my leg, then I pulled out my phone and scanned it. The lyrics of the song Lupe had had scanned onto the code appeared on my screen. I took a deep breath, grabbed the microphone, and stood. Then I let the words of the song flow from my mouth.