Keys

       Myles opened the solid wooden door and slipped into the dying light of the autumn sun. Breathing heavily at alternate intervals, he stared down at his cracking leather shoes as he made his way slowly towards the Mercedes S-Class that he was using as a company car. The parents didn’t want their kids to be seen in the olive green pickup with peeling paint that Myles owned.

       Myles had had a rough life, at the age of 35, his greatest accomplishment had been scoring his job working as an au pair for the richest family on the East Coast, the tech giant CEO of a mother and the heart surgeon of a father, the Vastags. He has been working with the family for 10 years. Living in a small apartment in Teaneck, New Jersey far from the excitement of New York City, where Myles hopes to live one day.

       He had always dreamed to be in the field of computer science, but ever since he dropped out junior year from high school to support his family, he hadn’t been able to learn anything new. Always hunting for a new job, he had moved around a lot. But after he scored a decent paying job as a housekeeper, he rented a cheap apartment in West Englewood, the cheapest district in Teaneck.

       The Vastags had never treated Myles well, however, today, the kids had particularly horrible. They had slid into their car with smug looks, and the older one, the son, he had kept on kicking Myles’ seat. While the daughter had been playing her boy band so loud that Myles couldn’t concentrate on driving. Myles had complained to his employers about these things once, however, he was denied of his yearly bonus and had to wait for the kids for an extended period of time, as they were mad at him for trying to rat them out.

       Cruising along the road sidelined with crisp autumn leaves, marveling at how these looming oaks had grown from seeds as large as his hand. Thinking out loud about how his day had gone and the conversations past, present, and future that he has had with his neighbor, Ms. Bonsfire. Myles was distracted. He hadn’t noticed the police car sitting in trees with her lights off. He zoomed past the policewoman's car at 50 in a 30 zone.

       With a shattered hope to have a nice night due to the $250 fine he received, Myles made the last turn into his apartment complex. He turned his rusty key, and pushed the hollow cheaply made door and stepped into his “temporary” living space. Whistling, Myles threw off his coat, slipped out of his leather shoes and made note of the new fissures that appeared on the shiny leather surface.

       The sound of sirens screamed through the otherwise quiet roads.

Myles headed towards the thin single pane window to watch the ambulance storm by. Paying close attention to the white and red truck as it turned into his complex, he walked slowly to put on his coat and shoes again.

       Myles rushed outside to see the ambulance knocking Ms. Bonsfire’s door down. Calling out her name, he ran towards the home he had been to so many times. Seeing her body lying on the floor, phone still hanging from the landline cord, he fought his way towards her. Just when he had made it to her side, Myles was being pushed away from the door by one of the medics; Myles yelled her name over and over.

       Myles stood outside, counting the seconds between his breaths. He was looking at his watch when the medic who pushed him away from Ms. Bonsfire. He lifted his head slowly and looked at Myles through the thick-rimmed glasses he was wearing. He shook his head once and said, “Sorry man.”

With his head down, Myles walked alone back to his 1 room apartment. He decided to call it a day, as it had been the worst couple of hours he had ever experienced.

Lying in bed, Myles thought of Ms. Bonsfire, the old lady that was living in the building next to him. Ms. Bonsfire was very affectionate of Myles, as she lived by herself and had no family to come and visit her in her old age. Her apartment always smelled like cinnamon apple scented Yankee Candle. Myles enjoyed visiting Ms. Bonsfire’s home to hear her stories about her school life and her siblings in the days of her youth.

       She would also listen to his stories. Myles had spilled his soul to the old woman, and now that his embarrassments, his disappointments, and the many times when he had wanted to run back to his parents, siblings, uncles, anyone who would take care of him, instead of staying at the job taking care of the rich, snobby Vastags.

       Myles didn’t know how he could go to bed. He tossed and turned throughout the night. His mind cleared a little: he would get over Ms. Bonsfire. He would find some new friends, exercise more, and pay the Men In Black to neuralize all of his memories.

       Grunting in frustration Myles turned over and slowly, fell asleep.

Myles rolled over slowly. Not fully realizing that he had been awake, he sat up onto his bed and put his head in his hands. He thought of the events of the previous night and held fistfuls of his hair in his hands. His clothes were still on. He stared down at his extremely wrinkled dress shirt and crumpled navy dress pants. Getting up, he realized he had slept overtime and had not taken the Vastag kids to school.

       He was fired.

       Myles wasn’t ever happy with his life; however, he still moped about his losing his job.

       Life was hard for a few years, Myles jumped from job to job; saving up money to pay off the loans he took out to pay off some other loans.

However, chances always occur.

       Sometimes you overhear about something you are interested in, sometimes it’s as simple as bumping into someone you share interests with. The latter came about to Myles. He had his head down and was blowing air from his mouth to look at the steam. Walking down the street to go checkout books about computer science from his local public library, Myles walked passed a young man wearing the exact same outfit as he was.

       “Well one of us is going to have to change,” the man said jokingly.

       Myles snorted a laugh and headed on his way.

       At the library, Myles was looking at some of the books on computer sciences and realized the man he had just walked past was just a couple of shelves behind him.

       They hit it off; wealthy people had fired both Myles and Boyce, they were both into computer programming, and while they both were running on negatives with the bank, they both had more knowledge of the dark web than the lucky ones who had gotten hired to set up firewalls for major companies.

       Violence was an answer for most.

       Myles loved revenge, he wanted to own nice things, he wanted to be able to live in a place that he wouldn’t be ashamed of living in.

       Boyce thought slowly, and therefore was more reasonable in his actions. He knew that if Myles and he wanted revenge, they had to play to their advantages.

       The plan.

       Myles and Boyce knew how to hide their identities online, they knew how to work the system to get them money, and they knew their targets.

       Myles wanted to get the Vastags, and being the hotheaded one, got his wish.

       They worked their way into a group of programmers that called themselves the “Night In The Internet”.

       They shrugged and agreed to help.

       Myles and Boyce got into the Vastag Corporation and deleted their files.

       Simple.