2025-04-29, 12:21 AM - Word count:
As the seasons changed, so did she; whether it was her style, her appearance, her age, anything and everything, really. There was a lot wrong with her game still, but that didn’t matter as much as her personal style. Though it was rolling into fall, she found it was still a little too hot to wear her usual style; leggings, typically outside for runs or practice, and her usual oversized long-sleeved shirts. Sometimes turtleneck for the effect, sometimes just a merch shirt from her favorite band or one of her favorite games.
As she pondered over what she wanted to wear, she found herself thinking out loud; “If I were a person in a futuristic world, where everyone could get an implant and live for hundreds of years longer, what type of figure would I be?”
As she combed through her wardrobe, she thought of many different ideas; she could play soccer forever, but at one point, that gets boring. Then, how about an influential content creator? She may as well have some influence on people, but how many people does she have influence over now? She figured it’d be at least 20 people, since some of Jackson’s fans and some of her own fans merged to basically become one big super-group of Clarke supporters, though that’s not that many people in hindsight. Wait, no, she has maybe a million fans or so, which means about a million people are constantly looking over her life.
Wait, if even a thousand people could be influenced by what she says on the internet, what does that mean about what she’s doing with that power? Wait, what if she doesn’t have that fan base in the fictional scenario she’s imagining? She took a step back; “I’m some random girl in the streets of… let’s name this fictional city Wolf City.” She took out of her closet a pair of black shorts that she usually uses for casual running. She also grabbed a white tank top with a decal of a skull with words floating over it reading “fuck the government.” She also took out the headband and hair tie she typically wore.
“Okay, I’m a random girl with no influence roaming around this Wolf City. What type of random figure would I be? I’m ambitious, but I don’t think ambition plays a role in some dystopian, authoritarian future for example. I’d be better off just being a fly, at that point. What else would there be for me?” She thought. Her thoughts were interrupted by a phone call, though it was from a number she didn’t recognize, so she let it run. Normal girl… normal girl… she didn’t have a normal life, so she couldn’t exactly have much of an idea what “normal” would be for most people. Of course, she didn’t mean normal as in the societal norms, but more of a regular person’s life. She lived with a celebrity and is currently a celebrity, so she’s been accustomed to the spotlight, but not to the lives of a normal person. Hell, the school she went to was an all-girls school, typically for the wealthy, when she reached high school. Private, cushy.
Maybe she’d settle for something like this; “I’m something like a small, kleptomaniac who lives off of others’ wallets, but not in the moochie way. I find profit by ramming into others’ bank accounts with my hacker friend and the other person who I’m with… maybe? We could be a squad, like in Payday, a squad with a hacker, a stealth girl in me, and two other people who are louder, maybe quieter, just in case people, except in real life… maybe with four people, maybe with three if my futuristic self is extremely daring. This is just going off of the fact that I would be as athletic as I am now. Maybe not your average athlete, but at least I’m still exercising.” SHe chuckled to herself as she slipped on her shirt, the second to final piece in her puzzle of clothes. She walked out of her bedroom, grabbing her phone off the dresser, and stuffing it in her pocket. She grabbed some running shoes; black base with white soles, inverting the colors of her current outfit. She’d just be out for about an hour anyways; she had to make a run outside for some errands, but she mainly just wanted to run.
As she pondered over what she wanted to wear, she found herself thinking out loud; “If I were a person in a futuristic world, where everyone could get an implant and live for hundreds of years longer, what type of figure would I be?”
As she combed through her wardrobe, she thought of many different ideas; she could play soccer forever, but at one point, that gets boring. Then, how about an influential content creator? She may as well have some influence on people, but how many people does she have influence over now? She figured it’d be at least 20 people, since some of Jackson’s fans and some of her own fans merged to basically become one big super-group of Clarke supporters, though that’s not that many people in hindsight. Wait, no, she has maybe a million fans or so, which means about a million people are constantly looking over her life.
Wait, if even a thousand people could be influenced by what she says on the internet, what does that mean about what she’s doing with that power? Wait, what if she doesn’t have that fan base in the fictional scenario she’s imagining? She took a step back; “I’m some random girl in the streets of… let’s name this fictional city Wolf City.” She took out of her closet a pair of black shorts that she usually uses for casual running. She also grabbed a white tank top with a decal of a skull with words floating over it reading “fuck the government.” She also took out the headband and hair tie she typically wore.
“Okay, I’m a random girl with no influence roaming around this Wolf City. What type of random figure would I be? I’m ambitious, but I don’t think ambition plays a role in some dystopian, authoritarian future for example. I’d be better off just being a fly, at that point. What else would there be for me?” She thought. Her thoughts were interrupted by a phone call, though it was from a number she didn’t recognize, so she let it run. Normal girl… normal girl… she didn’t have a normal life, so she couldn’t exactly have much of an idea what “normal” would be for most people. Of course, she didn’t mean normal as in the societal norms, but more of a regular person’s life. She lived with a celebrity and is currently a celebrity, so she’s been accustomed to the spotlight, but not to the lives of a normal person. Hell, the school she went to was an all-girls school, typically for the wealthy, when she reached high school. Private, cushy.
Maybe she’d settle for something like this; “I’m something like a small, kleptomaniac who lives off of others’ wallets, but not in the moochie way. I find profit by ramming into others’ bank accounts with my hacker friend and the other person who I’m with… maybe? We could be a squad, like in Payday, a squad with a hacker, a stealth girl in me, and two other people who are louder, maybe quieter, just in case people, except in real life… maybe with four people, maybe with three if my futuristic self is extremely daring. This is just going off of the fact that I would be as athletic as I am now. Maybe not your average athlete, but at least I’m still exercising.” SHe chuckled to herself as she slipped on her shirt, the second to final piece in her puzzle of clothes. She walked out of her bedroom, grabbing her phone off the dresser, and stuffing it in her pocket. She grabbed some running shoes; black base with white soles, inverting the colors of her current outfit. She’d just be out for about an hour anyways; she had to make a run outside for some errands, but she mainly just wanted to run.
