wasn’t.
0MN1: Where have you been?
503-ERROR: I needed to take a break for a while.
He didn’t mention that he’d never intended to come back.
Kill_Screen: why are you back now?
503-ERROR: I’m trying to figure out what STOP was up to.
0MN1: I thought u 2 used to be buddies?
503-ERROR: We were. But we haven’t been in contact for a while.
print*is*dead: That could have been anyone behind the mask.
Kill_Screen: Shut it.
0MN1: When wass the last time u talkd, 503?
Crap . Max could lie now, but if he decided to trust them he wouldn’t be able to ask for their help deciphering the text message later. They would refuse, and they might lock him out. Or worse, they could turn against him and make him another one of their targets.
If Evan had trusted them, maybe Max could too. And if they weren’t trustworthy, there wasn’t much they could do without Max’s cooperation.
But something made him hold back from telling them everything just yet.
503-ERROR: Few months ago.
Had it really been that long? He’d been so busy with soccer practice over the summer. Then school had started, and they’d been in separate classes. And Max had started dating Courtney.
Max waited for a response. The others were probably discussing all this in another private chat room and posting the news for others.
0MN1: Suspishius that your hear, now, after all this time. If u want us to believe, tell us something about STOP. Something real!
Max was asking a lot by coming here. If he wanted their help, he had to give them a reason to trust him, and show that he trusted them. He didn’t want to tip his hand about seeing Evan’s suicide just yet, though, because that would give them too much information about his own identity.
What if he told them something that they didn’t know the Feds already knew? It was just a matter of time before the FBI had to share more information about the case, including STOP’s identity. If it came from Max first, it might buy him some credibility.
503-ERROR: STOP and I sometimes talked IRL. His name was Evan Baxter.
It couldn’t hurt Evan anymore to admit their connection in real life, but it still felt like a betrayal.
Another long pause—so long that Max had to check to make sure he was still connected to the internet and the program hadn’t frozen.
Finally, nine chat responses appeared on-screen simultaneously in one block of text, as if sent by one user—which shouldn’t even be possible.
0MN1: Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
Kill_Screen: Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
Edifice: Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
print*is*dead: Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
DoubleThink: Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
GroundSloth: Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
Plan(et)9: Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
PHYREWALL: Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
ZeroKal: Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
No way.
7
Max stared at the green text that filled hisblack screen:
Hi, I’m Dramatis Personai
503-ERROR: Oh shit.
Evan really had been in Dramatis Personai.
print*is*dead: LOL
503-ERROR: I can’t believe I’m talking to Dramatis Personai. You guys are legendary!
Edifice: Now that you know our handles, we’ll have to kill you.
DoubleThink: Seriously, this is a mistake. We shouldn’t trust him. Why would he give up STOP’s name like that?
PHYREWALL: Assuming it’s legit.
Kill_Screen: Why should we trust *you*, DT?
DoubleThink: I was here before you, KS.
print*is*dead: I remember 503 / He’s a good guy
503-ERROR: Thanks, print*is*dead.
Max’s surroundings dropped away as his focus narrowed to the rhythm of fingers on keys and the glowing fifteen-inch window into a digital world that often felt more immediate than his “real” life.
In high school, everything you said and did had consequences, and everyone had their own expectations and agendas. He spent most of his time there worrying about what others thought of him. People were sometimes turned off by interactions with strangers or shocked at how blatantly people acted in
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