Change

Edgar was at home on his computer, sifting through old pictures of him and his grandfather. He promised that he would start living again, but he wasn't exactly sure how to. He racked his brain trying to figure out ways to live a better life. Alas, it was not so easy. He knew some tricks to help though. Perhaps he should stop playing all these idle games. Oh, and haircuts. Movies always seem to let you know that haircuts are the beginning of change. They are of utmost necessity when attempting to change who you are.

Edgar looked at his hair and did feel that it needed a trim. His long hair had stopped becoming fashionable a long time ago. None of his features could be clearly seen. He didn't spend time brushing it or styling it. It looked like the sides of his hair turned so curly it was a wonder that he couldn't yet fly with them.

He had decided. Tomorrow he would get one of those fashionable hairstyles he'd seen on some of his schoolmates.

I doubt pops meant to cut my hair, but oh well, it's something, thought Edgar laughing at his own ridiculous decision to cut his hair in an attempt to feel better about himself.

He kept thinking of ways to enrich his life but came up short. He was lying down on his bed, hands crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He was having one of those moments before going to sleep when he truly thought that everything would be better tomorrow. That he'd do all the things that he'd wanted to do all this time. He was planning workouts, meal recipes, and study plans. He closed his eyes eventually and dozed off with dreams of a life not so empty and desolate. He dreamt of his grandfather's strong, calloused hands holding his as a kid. His grandfather had always been a warrior, a fighter. He too wanted to become that one day.

As Edgar tossed and turned in bed through his vivid dreams, little did he know that the convictions he made for his dying grandfather would be the driving force of his success in life -- his second life.

--

Edgar woke up that day with energy and vigor. It seemed like his late-night musings actually made a small impact on his demeanor. He still wouldn't go to school though. That had long ago been at the bottom of his priorities, and he wouldn't change that up now. One step at a time, he told himself.

He went on a light jog around his neighborhood. Although his parents weren't rich by any means, they could still afford to live in the nicer part of town. Jogs weren't so dangerous in these areas, especially as a guy. Although most of the city had turned into a sprawling megacity with hundreds of skyscrapers, there were still some areas outside the city with nice, quiet neighborhoods like theirs.

Edgar finally felt something other than grief and pain after a long time. Well, maybe not so different. His lungs were screaming and his breathing was erratic. His brow was full of sweat, and his face was flushed. Edgar sat down at a nearby park bench and took a breather, taking in the fresh air with zeal.

Edgar smiled as he watched the people around him walk by. It felt like he was a part of them now. To think that he had always criticised the monotony of the people around him, yet craved to be in their little group. He couldn't help but mock his own hypocrisy.

Oh well, his is not to live perfectly, just to live. It felt good to him to finally take something seriously. There is a slight sense of loss when nothing you do or say has any importance in your mind. To constantly live in a world where nothing matters -- not even your existence, is tiring. Far more tiring than the jog he just took.

Edgar felt more alive than ever despite the burning of his calves. He took a long breath before he got up and continued his jog back home. He took a shower and made a plentiful breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes with fresh fruits that he'd picked up on the way back. It was delicious.

It was while he was cooking that Edgar realised the insane ability the brain had to make you think everything was ok. As if taking a jog and cooking truly fixed any of his problems. Yet, after all, the only thing that technically matters is how he felt. And he felt good. The pancake was fluffy and the chocolate chips were bitter and sweet.

He was rethinking the cynicism he held for the longest time on these mundane activities people did. Perhaps they were doing something right all along. He was growing more excited to get his haircut later that day.

I guess the movies had it right all along, he thought.

--

Edgar took a cab to downtown Chicago to get his haircut. The ride wasn't too long. With the implementation of the newest traffic systems, underground highways, and sky rails, traffic was a thing of the past.

As Edgar got out of the cab, he noticed that downtown was way busier than normal. In fact, it was way too busy. It looked like there was an event or a concert a couple of blocks away. He didn't think about it too much and went into the barbershop his grandfather used to take him to.

The bell above the door rang signaling a new customer's arrival. Edgar walked in slowly as he scanned the barbershop. It had changed from when he and his grandfather last came. It had expanded and gained popularity. What used to be a vintage barbershop filled with regulars and banter, turned commercial with shitty pop music. Anyway, he didn't mind that the barbershop changed. He just needed a haircut anyway.

The employees led him to his seat and he proceeded to tell them to choose whatever fit him best. They were hairstylists for a reason, best to leave them to do their job instead of pretending to know what fits you best. As he was getting his haircut, the hairstylist started talking about all the commotion outside.

"Have you heard about that new game coming out? Apparently, that's why there's a big commotion today. It's releasing in a couple of hours. Good for business I think," he said in a high-pitched voice.

Edgar nodded and pretended to know what he was talking about.

That's right, Atlas Life comes out today at six pm, Edgar thought as he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. If that's not big enough of a clue, he didn't know what would be. Instantly the hairstylist was quiet and focused on styling the young man's hair.

As he thought about the change in his life he was attempting to achieve, he thought about the game.

Maybe I could start anew in this Atlas Life that's been all over the news. A second life is what I wanted anyway.. I should give it a shot.

Just like that, in a hair salon playing a downgraded version of a pop song famous in the early 21st century, one of the greatest players of Atlas Life was born.