She smiled, and for a moment, Leo felt like a god.
His masterpiece was the “MixTape Vol. 6” – a fusion of obscure German techno, Nirvana B-sides, and a crude, self-recorded voice intro: “You are listening to Nero 6. Resistance is futile.” He gave the disc to Rachel, the punk girl with the purple streak in her hair, at the mall food court.
He looks at the cartoon emperor on the old software box, still peeking out of the cardboard box. Nero. The man who supposedly fiddled while Rome burned.
Leo closes the laptop lid. He doesn’t delete the file. He doesn’t throw away the disc. He just unplugs the ancient burner, wraps the cord around it like a snake, and places it back in the box.
Then, a video file: FIREWORKS.MPG .
