I hum a Billy Joel song as I enter the park, grinning at the NYU students milling about, doing their homework in ergonomically improbable ways, wearing silly and spectacular and amazing fashion, hopefully figuring out ways to fix this world.
Ha. Said the billionaire.
Speaking of billionaires, I pull up my phone.
Mads: Hey, what are you doing?
Ford: Making money hand over fist.
Mads: Me too. I'm bored.
I take a quick selfie by the arch and send it to him. Security guy is unamused.
Ford: Wait, are you playing hooky?
Mads: Yeah. Wanna join me?
Ford: Hell yeah. Mind if I link in Rand? Joe had to go into the office, and he’s been moping at me all morning.
Mads: Sure.
Ford: Hey, Rand—whatcha doin’?
Rand: Bein’ a captain of industry ’n stuff.
Rand: Missing my fiancé.
Ford:
Rand: Are we playing hooky?
Mads: Fuck yeah.
Rand: Let’s meet at my place. The newest VR game just downloaded, and Joe’s working, of all things.
Mads: I heard you’ve been rending your garments over his absence.
Rand: If he left you the way he left me, you’d be sad too.
Ford: You do know that your office is on the same block as your building, right?
Rand: Do you want to come over or not?
Mads: How sad is it that I’m actually kinda stoked to play?
Ford: I’ll bring my headsets and then swing by Washington Park, where Mads is hanging out like some kind of college kid.
Rand: Well, it won’t be hard to find him.
Mads: Hey. My security team LOVES my puffer jacket.
My security guy, looking over my shoulder, snorts.
“Shut up,” I whisper as though my friends can hear me.
Ford: I’m two blocks away, and I’ve already spotted him.
Ford: We’ll be there when the traffic gods deem it so.