Henry didn't find it hard to get into John's account. Through viewing his little brothers' WhatsApp status', Henry already knew that John was simply head over heels for Young Thug. He had typed in Young Thug and it didn't work. On his second try he had typed in Thugga Thugga and was met with a screen saver of Young Thug performing on a stage somewhere.

He stopped temporarily to mull over a thought. He genuinely believed that he made a mistake when he introduced his brother to Trap music. Mostly because it had convinced him that he could drop out of school and pursue his own career in music which did not pan out as well as he figured it would. Instead, he fell into heavy drug use and went to rehab for a year.

When he came back his mother kicked him out and told him to go and stay with his father. John hadn't taken a path as dangerous as his, but he had picked up on his smoking habits. In his closet, behind old folded clothes he saw about fifteen empty cigarette boxes. And it worried him because it may have been too late for him, but John was too young to be playing with cancer like that. He reached for his pack of 20's, tossed one in his mouth and puffed on it as he scanned John's laptop.

He googled SimuDate. What he got was an article about how a SimuDate, according to Sex and the City, is a date a woman goes out on to relieve the pressure or expectations from the guy she actually likes.

Henry clicked the images tab instead, hoping to find an image or something. Instead, he only got Sex and the City scenes and posters. Nothing that looked like science fiction gear in his brother's room.

He tried to convince himself that it was probably nothing, that he should've been there for his mother instead of playing detective. He had tried on the gear, connecting to the laptop as instructed by the manual but nothing happened. The thing didn't even turn on. The best thing would've been to assure his mother that John was still alive and the police would find him soon.

He ashed out his cigarette and threw himself onto the bed...

He rose from the bed and grabbed the little black booklet. This time he analyzed it until he came across something he hadn't seen before. On the back cover, in barely readable text, it read:

A MEETFIRST.COM SUBSIDIARY

MeetFirst...

He didn't have to search for that one. MeetFirst was so big that even he tried it at a certain point. But he still couldn't understand the connection between it and whatever the hell SimuDate was.

He returned to typing, this time searching for MeetFirst SimuDate. He only got an autocorrected result which led him to the MeetFirst homepage.

He shouldn't have done it but he couldn't help himself from clicking the Instagram tab.

At the top were two messages, one from Clint, Johns best friend. Then another one from someone named Donald Steinfield asking why his phone was off.

NOTE FROM AUTHOR:
THANK YOU SO MUCH DEAR READER FOR STICKING AROUND. PLEASE VOTE AND LEAVE ANY CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IF POSSIBLE.

-EMOLYON