I can’t stand parties.

It’s the noise. That hum and murmur of dozens of voices beating on me from all directions. Even with my implants set to tune out any that aren’t speaking directly at me, I swear I can still feel the vibrations on my skin.

Another one of the blustering multitude comes up to shake my hand. I fake a smile as I note that the information window floating in front of him identifies him as one of my many bosses. My AI whispers in my ear that he’s never even met me before, but I allow myself to be congratulated on this quarter’s rise in profits.

I make my way outside, to take in the city lights. Advertising windows float around in the sky. Everything anyone could want is out there.

Something’s wrong. I ask my AI why my ocular implants are showing me less ads, why I don’t hear the music and sound effects anymore. I get no reply.

As the last of the ads disappears, I see nothing but bare buildings, hear nothing but the wind. I will never complain about the noise of parties again.

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