20th February 2064
Unknown Location
Kaira admired herself for a moment, proud of her natural body before she started dressing. The blouse was tight, showing off her chest. She toyed with it, undoing one button then the next, showing off a small but tantalising view of her cleavage.
"Too much" she thought. "For now at least."
She put on her new black school skirt. "Too little". She grabbed a nearby pair of scissors and started carefully cutting just a few inches off its length. She looked back at herself in the mirror, the skirt now just barely long enough to cover her ass. "Perfect".
At that moment Jun walked in on her. He shielded his eyes the moment he stepped in. "I'm clothed Jun, really." He uncovers his eyes.
"You sure about this Kaira?"
"Of course. This will be child's play. It's nothing I haven't done before."
She strode past him, stopping at the stairs. She made a circle with her hands, placing it over her heart as a salute . She did it with pride. He did the same. Then, she left.
20th February 2064
Kalen's Apartment
I dread this day every year. You think I would've gotten used to it, but the first day of a new class always makes my gut churn. I feel naked. Probably because I literally am. I look in the mirror for a moment, fiddling with my facial hair acting as if it's changing anything. I've let my hair grow long, down near the bottom of my nape just how I like it. I comb it a bit, my hand bumping the ceiling. I'm 6'3 and the bathroom ceiling is not tall enough for me, but I'm lucky to have a home at all. I'm also a large man with broad shoulders. I don't have a six-pack, but still a muscly build with a bit of a gut. However I like to consider myself pretty strong, especially for a teacher, and I'm definitely not too overweight, by my own standards.
I slip on some dark blue chino pants and a dark blue button up shirt, putting a dark chequered grey blazer on top. I smooth out my outfit, do some final minor adjustments and leave my mirror alone. Too much gawking at myself for one day. I check the time, the HUD showing up from nowhere as my brain signals travel to my eyes, telling my Optical cyberware what I need to see. Shit. I'm running late, so I rush out the door.
BANG
The door slams shut. It always does. I glance back to see it's automatically locked and then rush down towards the stairs. I live in a medium sized apartment complex, it's about 4 stories tall housing only a few small sized apartments. I'd take it over one of the megablock apartments any day though.
Usually I'd listen to the radio on my trips in, but today I'm too nervous to even attempt at distraction. The train emerges from a tunnel exposing the mass of clumped buildings that makes up Eureka City. The buildings are a mesh of different styles, brutalist megablocks, shiny glass towers, bright billboards and neon signs on buildings and in the sky alike. For all purposes the city should look ugly, and it does. But in the ugliness there's an odd beauty I can't get past. It's an odd sensation. But one I feel often living in this city. In this country. I sit there in silence myself, however you can't escape noise. There's the advertisements playing on the train interior; plus the muted latest pop hits playing on speakers; and dozens of people conversing in person or on their opticals; and even more people playing videos on speaker, for no clear logical reason. It's stuff I never think about normally, tuning in to my own media however on days like this it becomes somewhat claustrophobic.
The train shunters to a stop and I weave and push my way past to the exit. From there it's a short walk to Eureka University. The building was made in the early 2000s with big glass windows framed with large concrete columns. I heave a sigh, then step through the door.
My classroom is one of the smallest, built for 20 people at most. It's on the back corner of the building, the concrete columns interrupting the windows in the corner and at the front of the class, right next to my desk. I check the files downloaded on my opticals and make sure it's shared with all the Smartdesks and Smartboard. The next 30 minutes waiting is torturous. I start imagining what my new students are like, all of the most anxiety inducing types: the know-it-all's who can't go a minute without observing my every mistake, the smart-asses with nothing better to do than mock their teacher, and the absolute worst: attractive girls. I would've thought this would be gone by my teens, yet alone when I'm nearing 40. But there's a specific type I fear: gorgeous, but with those mean, judgmental eyes expected of high school bullies. They make my confidence crumble, especially in coordination with the other types.
I suddenly shake these thoughts, bracing myself. I'm good at my job. I know what I'm talking about and I've handily dealt with these types before. It'll be alright.
There's a knock at the door, and the first two students make their way into the room. I put on my 'professor smile' as I scan them with my opticals. It instantly shows up with their Student ID and enrolment status for my class. One Jude Spiers and one Curt Hoffman. I direct them to their allocated seats as they talk amongst themselves. Clearly already friends.
Over the next 10 minutes more students file in. Three young guys. I instantly clock them as somewhere on the know-it-all end of the spectrum. Another couple by themselves. Then, a pretty Asian girl named Lisha silently files in.
All right, this is going well. Two potential smartasses with Jude and Curt, and three possible know-it-all's. But they seem manageable.
That's when it starts going downhill.
A group of three girls. I know the type. They wear the latest fashion accessories for young corporate born girls. They come in, laughing and smirking amongst themselves, almost completely ignoring my presence. They are all pretty, but the girl in the middle draws my attention. A pretty young girl, she has long blonde hair, well maintained. A few grooves on her face indicate cyberware, but I suspect her face and body truly looked like that pre-cyberwork. She's a mean pretty, exactly what I feared. I hate that I even notice, but her white blouse was two buttons short, showing off the cleavage of her clearly large breasts. I glance down to avoid looking, just to notice her skirt seems to be shortened too, just long enough to cover her ass but no more. I scan her. Madison Ferguson. I almost audibly laugh. Ms Ferguson. That is one ugly name for one pretty girl.
Catching my gaze, almost knowing what I was thinking, she opens her mouth to acknowledge me.
"Everyone calls me Maddie. Remember that."
"Uhh... umm yeah. Sure. You're at Desk 9 right at the back." I'm just relieved she didn't think I was checking her out.
