NYC. A three letter abbreviation. Could mean a lot of things for some people. Could mean a popular T-shirt saying "I [HEART] NYC" or a popular abbreviation for something else, like a part of the name of a merchandise store or a location. What it really means is New York City. And in 2047, it didn't really matter if people called it NYC or New York City. People called it NYC anyway, more so than the Big Apple. But it was still New York City.
2047. Technology was starting to marvel around its impending peak. Corporations like Samsung and Apple were still around, but someone called Alchemy was coming around the scene. Population was still growing, almost around 8 billion but it seemed that 7 and 8 were eating each other. Architecture and new 'holographic' screens were all around the place. Still, these holographic screens were not truly holographic; they are rather a mix of 3D and hidden illusionary sensors in the circuit boards that gave its contents a bit of a push onto the stage — as always, these were giving everyone's eyes the colourful orgasm they needed. Neon lights are also all over the place, with light fixtures improved to the point that there are no wires. Clever engineering.
There is no sign of an apocalypse happening in America. There are signals, however, that it is becoming the modern Neo Tokyo. The city looks rather dark with the dim blue blanket of an atmosphere and the monolithic, detailed skyscrapers. The government, for some reason, is in lockdown. And waves of police are patrolling everywhere, with the city and most of the America — probably some of the world — in primal state. Crime and vigilantism pays coins. But it is not apocalyptic, it is somewhere between pleasant and controlling. This feeling is the ever rising bile to the everyday civilians. And this reason is why the town is insomniac. This painted everyone in colour, akin to the ones in their carbon drinks.
In this sense, all they could to was gulp. A group of four were in a bar called Nightsky, full of mostly pinkish-red neon. There were three boys, one girl. They were all wearing at least a hat and some sneakers. Probably a new pair of Vans or some old Converse All-Stars. One was quiet, drinking a carbonated drink that is emanating neon blue coloured light from a transparent Solo cup. A good choice, indeed. Her eyes are quiet and active. They are not scouting the area or mapping out imperfections; they are introverted. Everyone else's eyes were nearly identical, save for the more energetic activity between the rest.
The rest of the nightclub is a phantasmagoria for the liberated side of people. There is a DJ performing music on a collection of mixers, turntables and Launchpads, connected to a single slim Tabloid. Out on the dance floor, everyone was wearing a variety of clothing and garments. Some were wearing skin-tight or loose jeans and shirt — the majority. Yet, some people are also wearing blazers, leather jackets, striped trackers that could be from Adidas. A majority of the females were wearing revealing clothing that helped the neon attach itself to the physical beauty of the plump breasts and thicc asses. One particular girl's top were covering her nipples and pussy, nothing else. People were doing it on the walls, fucking on the tables.
But on the bathroom, there is red neon everywhere. A bright red that pierced the eyes of anyone. There, energy is going back and forth from two people. The girl, small and petite, has her back pushing against the wall, legs swallowing the other one with purple hair thrusting into and rubbing against her. A rhythmic dance between the duo, with timing perfect and effective to the repetitive beat. Dicks flopping around and the smoke exchanged harmoniously from the two was repetitive, but oh so enjoyable. Cum was dripping and oozing everywhere, specifically the clothes dangling off shoulders and legs and they were getting ready for the finish.
Oh wait, that's the girl's? Damn, I forgot about that. Shit. Guess that concludes everything.
But the group of four are not dancing, are not ganging up on another, are not doing anything at all other than sitting around and waiting for the time to pay and depart towards home base. They are all silent; the girl, for sure, is not the one not enjoying it for what it is and is the one wanting to go home. So she broke the concentrated gaze and started looking at the other guys' drinks. They also were bright neon colors: green and red. But one of the drinks is clear. Not neon coloured or luminescent; clear as the night. And with a more prominent micro-squint of the right eye more than the left, she respected his choice and left it alone from her prying eyes.
