3 Beautiful smile, but it's not honest

Descending from the 44th floor was like a vertical journey through layers of life. The corridor was lined with doors, each a portal to another story, another struggle. I nodded greetings to neighbors, familiar faces etched with the wear of the block's relentless grind.

"Morning, Marlene," a few murmured, their smiles brief flashes in the dim light.

Then came the whistle, sharp and teasing. "When's that date, Marlene?" Tom's voice, as predictable as the rent sign.

"After I'm six feet under, Tom," I shot back without missing a beat, my lips curving in amusement.

He laughed, the sound echoing off the concrete. "I'll hold you to that! Ask again tomorrow!"

I shook my head, the echo of his laughter chasing me into the hall. The vast space was alive with the sizzle and chatter of street food stalls. I made my way to the familiar glow of "Uncle Chen's Noodles," the scent of spices and soy a comforting embrace.

"Uncle Chen," I greeted the old man, whose hands were a blur over the wok.

"Ah, Marlene," he replied without looking up, the hint of a smile in his voice. "The usual?"

His question was part of our ritual, a small moment of normalcy in the chaos of Megablock 4.

"Yes, the usual, Uncle Chen," I replied, my stomach already anticipating the rich flavors of his dish—a hearty bowl of Jidan Mian, egg noodles topped with his special blend of stir-fried vegetables and a soft-boiled egg, the yolk just runny enough to blend into the savory sauce.

As I tapped my temple, my eyes momentarily glowed green—transaction complete. Uncle Chen handed over the steaming container, the familiar clatter of chopsticks against plastic echoing softly.

"What's playing in your ears today, Marlene?" Chen asked, his eyes crinkling with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Some Shadowfall Serenade," naming the melancholic rock band that seemed to echo my current state of mind.

He shook his head, stirring another wok full of noodles. "You listen to too much sadness and melancholy, girl. Something bothering you?"

I paused the music and flashed him a smile, though I knew it didn't quite reach my eyes. Chen caught that. "Beautiful smile, but it's not honest," he said, almost gently

Chen's words hung in the air as I took a bite, savoring the familiar comfort of his cooking. He watched me for a moment before chiding, "Marlene, remember your manners, even if the world's forgotten its own."

I mumbled an apology around a mouthful of noodles. Then, curiosity piqued, I asked, "Ever thought about changing it all up, Chen? Leaving this place?"

His laughter was a brief, bittersweet melody. "Once, I was high up, Marlene—high enough to forget the taste of honest joy. I've never been happier than here, in this chaos."

I sighed, letting the noodles slip from my chopsticks back into the bowl, some strands clinging messily to the edge. "I gotta head to work," I told him.

"Good day, Marlene," he called after me, his smile genuine.

I stuck my tongue out at him playfully, picking up my pace as I wove through the bustling hall. The megablock's interior was a patchwork of neon signs and holo-ads, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the steel walkways that crisscrossed above the open space. The central atrium was a canyon within the city, lined with apartments stacked sky-high, a vertical neighborhood buzzing with life.

There was the weapon store just before the ground floor, where Castor Reid leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest like he was the final boss in a game, guarding the level exit.

"Marlene!" he called out as I passed by. "Got a bunch of new stock. Could use your magic touch on some cyberware and guns. Can you drop by after work?"

The prospect sent a spark through me, a flicker of excitement. "You bet, Castor. I'll be there." It wasn't just work; it was passion, the kind that kept me going when everything else seemed to stand still.

His grin was all teeth and business. "Knew I could count on you. You're the best tinkerer this side of the block," Castor said with a nod that felt like a seal of approval.

The lift dinged its arrival on the ground floor, a tired sound from a tired machine, and the doors slid open with a reluctant shudder. The doors slid open with a hiss, I was immediately engulfed in the sensory overload that is life in this city. The insulated quiet of the megablock's interior was a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The streets were alive with a cacophony of sounds: the relentless honking of cars, the sharp pitches of street vendors advertising their cyber-whatever, and the constant, indistinct hum of conversation from the crowds.