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In his lifetime, Gavin Reed learns to hate many things. He learns to hate his father when he is eight, as the son of a bitch steals cries from his mother’s mouth and streaks red across her face. Gavin takes a chair in his small fists and rips words from his throat that aren’t his, but his father catches it mid-way and sends Gavin flying and pouring red from a gash on the bridge of his nose. The man takes off with more than half of everything they own (which wasn’t much) and leaves his wife and son shaking, alone, with nothing to cling onto but each other. His mother takes him from Detroit to Massachusetts and there, they get an apartment and pretend everything is okay.
He learns to hate school, where the kids sneer at the stitched-up cut on his nose and Gavin has to learn to glare back until they shrink away. He learns to hate alcohol, the way his mother leaves glass bottles, sometimes broken, littered on the floor of the apartment. The stench of vomit and blood that permeates the air when he comes back from school to find his mother unmoving, limp on the chair of the couch facing a television screen that laughs at nothing.
Gavin learns to hate the foster system, jumping from house to house (not a home, never a home) because they find him “unpleasant”, “intolerable”. Good, he thinks, I hate your stupid house anyway. He hates it even more at ten, when he meets the Kamskis: a family of three with a son aching for someone to call his brother. Elijah is only a few months older than him, but Gavin can tell he’s a prick.
“Gav, have you ever wondered--”
“Stop calling me that.”
“About aliens?”
“Elijah, what the--”
“What? Science says it’s possible.”
Elijah Kamski is homeschooled, arrogant, a nerd, a prick, a dumbass, a whiny bitch, and everything else Gavin can think of. The problem is, Elijah is also his first friend, and the Kamskis are his first real family. They let him keep Gavin Reed, because even though Elijah says “Gavin Kamski” would sound great, Gavin feels like gagging every time the name tries to come out of his throat. Elijah’s parents are both scientists, practical and analytical, and Gavin has to hide a smile with a feigned cough when they tell him they don’t believe in calling their children “son”, not even Elijah.
And that’s the problem, because at eleven, Gavin feels like dust next to Elijah, even in his so-called family. Elijah finishes the entire high school calculus syllabus within a year, while Gavin can’t even memorize his multiplication tables. Elijah learns how to make things come alive on a computer screen while Gavin struggles to wrap his head around the functions of the new iPhone 4S. For the first time, Gavin learns he is incompetent, and he learns he hates that feeling with every fiber of his being.
The first time Elijah shows Gavin his robotics project, Gavin snatches it from Elijah’s grip and tears it apart, articulate limb by articulate limb. Elijah cries, and Gavin punches him in the face. The anger ebbs away along with the buzzing of his knuckles where his fist made contact, and it feels good until Elijah’s parents instruct him to stand in a corner and apologize to his brother.
“He’s not my brother, and I’m not your son,” Gavin spits at them. They’re pretty, tall, long-faced, their noses are tall and thin and they are pale, all three of them. Gavin stands out like a sore thumb, with his messed up nose and his scars and his lack of height. Most of all, they’re smart people, and Gavin? Gavin is stupid, out of place next to the scientists and the boy who mastered calculus at age eleven.
“I don’t belong here,” he mutters and sinks further into his corner. It’s Elijah who shuffles over holding ice to his face after his parents have left in anger, and Gavin turns to face the wall.
“I’m sorry,” Elijah says after an eternity of silence and Gavin just furrows his brows further. It’s so like Elijah, to be the perfect, apologetic son. It’s sickening.
“You’re not supposed to be apologizing,” Gavin retorts. “And I’m not going to, so go away.”
“Mom and Dad can’t stay mad at you forever. They consider you their son, and I consider you my brother. Just so you know.”
“Leave me alone, Elijah.” And he does. That same year, Elijah perfects his portfolio and gets accepted into the University of Colbridge. Gavin announces to his parents that he wants to go back to real school. In 2014, Gavin starts seventh grade while Elijah goes to college to pursue his dreams of robots. Elijah develops his first AI program within the first month. Gavin punches a guy in the stomach for calling him short. After the second year of university, Elijah’s participated in two whole research projects and has one ongoing. Gavin has gotten called to the principal’s office seven times, and suspended four. After the third year, Gavin realizes he hasn’t properly seen Elijah since they parted, though they still live in the same house.
“Hey, Eli.” A knock on Elijah’s door. No response but a murmur that lets Gavin know that Elijah is definitely in there. And definitely ignoring him.
“Elijah.” Still nothing.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Elijah, open your fucking door for once!” Gavin nearly yells and is seconds away from busting the door open with his foot when the lock finally clicks open.
“What do you want?” Elijah looks tired, the most tired Gavin’s ever seen him, with dark circles hanging from his eyes, red at the edges. Then again, Gavin hasn’t seen him much nowadays.
“I haven’t seen you in like, forever. Do you even eat food? Or are you too busy getting busy with the college girls?” Gavin quips, and grins.
“Gavin, if you interrupted my work just to ask me a stupid question about food, I don’t have--” Elijah’s about seven-eighths (yeah, Gavin can do math) done with his sentence when a voice, distinctly female, sounds from his computer screen. “Elijah?” it says, and Gavin swears he sees Elijah’s glasses fog up just the slightest.
“What. The. Fuck. Man, when I said getting busy, I was kidding,” Gavin says, and can’t help himself from heaving laughter out of his lungs. “Elijah, you’re really hard at work I can tell--”
“Shut up, Gavin,” Elijah replies, and his voice is dangerously calm.
“What, man? I just didn’t know you had--”
“She’s not a college girl. She’s an AI.” And oh, oh of course because this is Elijah and that just makes it funnier.
“Holy shit! Elijah Kamski, getting it on with a robot, oh my God--” And this time it’s Elijah who punches Gavin in the face, right below the cheekbone. It’s a weak punch and Gavin’s taken worse, but the suddenness of it is what shocks him. Elijah punches people now?
“Wow,” Gavin says after he finds his words back.
“God, I didn’t mean to--” Elijah stammers, but gives up with a sigh when Gavin shakes his head. “If you’d rather your AI girlfriend over a real life human being, you’re totally fucked up,” he says, and turns.
“Her name is Chloe,” Gavin hears Elijah mutter, but ignores it.
The same year Elijah graduates from university, Gavin drops out of high school. Elijah moves out of state to build a tech company, and Gavin gives up. He almost doesn’t move from his parents’ couch, just to eat food and go to work. He picks up cash at a nearby fast food restaurant, and usually, that’s where his daily meals come from. His parents offer to homeschool him. He refuses. After two years, his parents get tired of his bullshit and give him a plane ticket to anywhere and money to rent an apartment for a few months. They tell him to get a real job, and find something to live for. They don’t say, “Like Elijah,” which Gavin is grateful for. Instead they tell him, “You can’t be flipping burger patties forever,” and Gavin grins and says, “Try me,” with a raised eyebrow. So he moves to the city where he spent the first eight years of his life, mostly because rent is cheap, is what he says.
In Detroit, everything is colder, rainier, and it’s just as Gavin remembers it. His feet bring him to the porch of his old home in the dim light of evening. There’s a light on, and shadows dance in the warm fluorescence. A child, a mother, a father. Something about it brings an involuntary smile to Gavin’s face. He hates it, but it makes him feel warm inside. He leaves before his clothes get soaked through and before someone comes out of their house to accuse him of stalking.
Gavin’s first encounter with the police involves the back alley of a bar, a cat, and some assholes who think pulling and twisting clumps of its fur is fun. Gavin wants to puke when he sees, and instinct brings him swerving into the alley and slamming his fist into one of the punk’s faces. Gavin can hear the cat scream, claw at his leg and he wants to snap, god damn it you stupid thing, can’t you see I’m defending you? but before he gets the chance, the asshole finds his wits back and retaliates with a punch to Gavin’s jaw. His friends quickly join in, and there are now three of them against Gavin and the cat. But Gavin isn’t one to back down, so he fights until his lip is busted and there’s a bruise near his eye that nearly seals it shut, but the other guys are in much worse shape. One had run away, leaving the remaining two panting and their movements sluggish and labored. Gavin easily overcomes both of them, but not before one finds a piece of glass on the alley ground and slashes it across Gavin’s face. Specifically, across the bridge of his nose that had burst open in pain ten years ago. Gavin howls, and then come the red-and-blue flashing lights.
“Hey, stop! What’s going on here?” yells a voice, and the assholes do freeze, the piece of glass clattering to the ground. The cat chooses this time to mewl and paw at Gavin’s leg, claws sheathed this time. The cop raises his flashlight and squints as he looks at Gavin-- the blood gushing from the cut in his nose, his black eye, his busted lip.
“Anderson! What’s going on, c’mon, we have a homicide to investigate!” another cop shouts, and Anderson removes the blinding light from Gavin’s eye. “Found a bunch of punks caught in a fight,” he responds, and turns to the assholes. “Go home,” he tells them, and Gavin sees for the first time how young they are, teenagers; sixteen, maybe seventeen. He feels bad for a second before--
“You’re not gonna arrest him? He just started attacking us! That’s aggravated assault!” one of them protests and Gavin wants to beat him up all over again. “Animal cruelty is considered a felony too, you sick fuck!” Gavin shoots back, injecting as much venom into his tone as physically possible.
“Hey, hey!” the cop intervenes. “Break it up. Go home. If I see any of your troublemaking faces again, you’re not gonna get off so easy. Go. Home.” The assholes comply, slinking off out of the alley. Gavin does too, shoving his hands into his pockets and gets a bit away before there’s a meowing behind him. He ignores the first few, but after a while it becomes annoying and Gavin whirls around with an exasperated groan. “The fuck do you want, cat? I saved your ass, now go home and be grateful!” The cat looks as him like he’s fucking dumb, which isn’t even an expression Gavin thought cats could make.
“Piece of shit,” Gavin mutters and scoops up the cat who stretches out in his arms and rubs itself against his chest. And that’s how Gavin’s heart falls into pieces and he ends up naming the cat ‘Scar’, brings him to the vet to get his injections (it takes a large chunk out of Gavin’s wallet but Scar just looks at him smugly) and grooms him in the bathtub. Then comes Bella, who he finds on his windowsill pawing at Scar’s reflection in the glass, and their kit, Jasper, and Gavin totally doesn’t cry at all when he comes into the world mewling and small.
When Gavin is twenty, he witnesses the foundation of the company called Cyberlife, headed by none other than the genius Elijah Kamski. Gavin’s slouched on his couch, idly browsing through channels on the T.V. when the news comes on. More specifically, Elijah’s face. Scar stirs on Gavin’s chest when he does a double take, staring at the once-familiar blue eyes and long face. The dark circles haven’t left the bottom of his eyes since Elijah started university, and Gavin guesses that’s one thing they have in common. But Elijah’s face looks more radiant, beaming, proud. And he’s grown facial hair. Huh. Didn’t think he had it in him.
“--was a difficult and challenging process,” Elijah is saying, “but with the brilliant team of scientists we have here at Cyberlife, we were able to break through. And I’d like to give a special thanks to my professor, Dr. Amanda Stern. This wouldn’t have been possible without your help and guidance.” Elijah looks directly into the camera at this and smiles, and that familiar feeling of inadequacy bubbles up in Gavin’s chest and he wants to puke.
“Fuck you!” he shouts when his call goes to Elijah’s voicemail. It’s been two years, and Gavin is betting on the likelihood that Elijah traded his old phone for a newer model a long time ago.
“Fuck you, and your stupid fucking androids. You think you’re so fucking smart, but you don’t realize how fucked up this is. You’re a fucking fake-ass sociopath, Elijah, with nothing but these stupid robots to keep you company! What happened to humans, huh? I was never your fucking brother, but those things are even less.” By the end of his angry voicemail, Gavin’s breaths are uneven and there are tears running down the side of his cheek. Elijah’s android is being interviewed now, with the image of a young woman in a blue dress.
“My name is Chloe,” it says. Of fucking course.
A day later, there’s a message from an unknown number in Gavin’s voicemail.
“Among all the voices of backlash at my discovery, I never imagined that my own brother would be among them. I wish you well, Gavin,” it says in Elijah’s voice, just deeper now. Gavin throws his phone in the trash and sleeps for three days straight.