My arms burn as I push the handlebars of the workout machine away from me. Once my arms are extended, I inhale and slowly pull the handlebars back towards me so as not to clank the weights together. I push the handlebars once again.

  “Five.” I count aloud.

  As I’m pushing the handlebars for my next rep, I think more about the nature and existence of my new home, Stratosylum. I’ve been here nearly a week and I still don’t know how I, or anyone for that matter, was brought here.

  “Six.”

  The ground is not visible from Stratosylum, yet the sky's still blue. Normally when I’m on an airplane, I can still see the ground faintly when the atmosphere is thin. It’s hard to believe we are really on a massive skyscraper.

  “Seven”

  Anyone who jumps off the edge ends back up in their room ten-ish minutes later. Dante’s roommate confirmed this to be true. So something must be catching us down there.

  “Eight”

  The housekeepers bother me the most. They are able to manipulate our emotions to prevent us from committing violent acts against each other. I don't know if I should believe robots are capable of this or not. Better than believing a living mammal can do this.

  “Nine”

  We have a limitless supply of food, necessities, medicine, and resources to make stuff. At least that’s what we are told. Everything has to come from somewhere. I’ve seen the bulk of Stratosylum so far and there is no way we have all the plants, foundries, and farms to produce everything that residents can get their hands on.

  “Ten”

  Heather LaLonde, the lavender yeen. Stratosylum’s longest resident, dealing cards with protogens in an underground casino for what is essentially play money. She and everyone else here don’t seem to care that they one day woke on top of whatever the fuck this place actually is. She must know the reality of this place somehow.

  As I continue working out on this weight machine, I crafted a theory of what Stratosylum actually is. The most plausible theory is that Stratosylum is inside a large sound stage, like The Truman Show. The tower we are on must be a lot smaller than we think, surrounded by blue mist to look like sky and nets at the bottom to catch jumpers and knock them out the same way we went out before coming here. What I don't know is where they come back up from. If I can figure out how they are brought back up, I should be able to find the exit. With that said, whoever made this place has to be rich, which does not significantly narrow down who is responsible for this. I do have a second theory as to what Stratosylum may be, but that one’s a bit far fetched. That kind of research is years away.

  After 20 reps, I get off the workout machine I was on then wipe the seat and handlebars off with a wet wipe so that someone else in the gym can use it without having to worry about my germs. The gym in Building E wasn’t too busy today which made it a good day to work out in peace. Nothing against the people here, I’ve just never liked working out around others.

  I head back to the gym locker room. The lockers use a proximity reader to lock and unlock with our watches, like our condos. With my watch, I unlock my locker and undress myself from my workout clothes, down to the fur. I exchanged my worn clothes for a towel in my locker to wrap around my exposed waist. The towel is only wrapped around me for the short walk to the showers where I hang the towel on a hook outside the shower stall and place my watch in a little acrylic box so it doesn't get wet. I turn on the hot water all the way and add a little bit of cool water, flowing a comfortable temperature of water out the shower. There’s a small bottle for fur shampoo, which I squirt a sufficient amount on my paw to scrub through my musky fur. I spend a few minutes washing out the dried sweat from my fur before shutting the water off and brushing my towel through my fur, drying myself off before wrapping it around my waist again. I grab my watch out of the box, putting it back on so that I can open my locker to change into my clothes. A pair of black slacks with a leather belt, a black button up shirt covering the snowy white fur of my torso, and a navy blue soft shell jacket. Gray accents line the sides of the jacket and the trims of the collar and zippers glow soft blue. The back of the jacket has a geometric cat face that glows the same soft blue color. And of course, the glowing blue glyph every resident wears on their outfit over my left chest.

  As I leave Building E, my watch buzzes with Jonas’ directory picture above an instant message from him displayed on my watch.

  ‘Jonas L: I'm going golfing in a bit. Wanna Join?’

  I pull out my phone to resume my IM conversation with him.

  ‘Adrian S: I literally just walked out of the gym :<’

  ‘Jonas L: And???’

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  ‘Adrian S: I’ve had enough physical activity for a day, was just gonna head home and probably play some video games with Martin or Azure.’

  ‘Jonas L: Srsly?? ITS GOLF… golf is probs the least physical sport you can play lmao.’

  ‘Jonas L: It’s really fun. You whack balls with a stick lol.’

  ‘Jonas L: PLEEAASSEE?’

  ‘Adrian S: Okay okay. I’ll join you but I dont know how to play tho…’

  ‘Jonas L: Oh thats not an issue. I’ll show you :3 you can even borrow my old set of clubs.’

  ‘Adrian S: Where should I meet you??’

  ‘Jonas L: Let’s meet by the elevators. North end of 0.’

  ‘Adrian S: Okai, see you there.’

  I guess I’m going golfing now. Golf was one of those things I never thought I would do in my life and came to terms with, like going to space or being President of the United States. I’ve only ever played mini golf at Benny J’s Fun Center and have only ever watched real golf when it was aired on the TV’s at those sports themed restaurants. Well, I agreed to embarrass myself in front of Jonas, might as well get going.

  I walk across the courtyard by Building 0 to get to Building A, where the stairs down to Zero are. I’m checking the map on my phone as I’m walking through Zero so that I can find these elevators. I’ve never had to use these elevators because they only go down to the big floors below Minus One. I remember Jonas said his golf course was on Minus Seven.

  I find the elevators against the northmost wall of Zero. There are four elevators next to each other. Jonas is standing by the rightmost elevator wearing a clean kept golf bag on his back and holding a more used bag by the strap.

  As I walk towards him, he smiles once he notices me. He looks really excited to go golfing. It seems like he does this a lot. Does he normally get this excited or is it just because I’m golfing with him?

  Holding up the worn golf bag, he tells me, “Here are your clubs. They’re my old clubs but they work really well.”

  I take the bag from him which is a lot heavier than I expected. Not heavy to the point where I can barely lift them, but I wasn’t expecting this from what, in my mind, is just a few metal rods with clubs at the end.

  “Heh, Thanks.” I tell him as I try to figure out the back strap. “You may need to teach me how to use them.”

  “No worries!” he tells me as he straps the bag's back strap over my shoulders like a backpack. “You’ll get the hang of it in no time. Biggest thing is you just gotta have fun. I’ve got Stratosylum craft brews, cigars, and my portable speaker.”

  “Are we partying or playing golf?” I ask him.

  “Both!” he says with excitement. “Which is how golf is supposed to be played.”

  Again, I know absolutely nothing about golf, but I don’t remember watching pro golfers drink and smoke on the course. Golf has always seemed like this high class sport only rich people play, but I got no complaints about partying a little with Jonas though, so I’ll roll with it.

  Jonas calls the elevator which takes a minute to come up. An elevator opens up and the cabin is noticeably bigger than a typical elevator. Jonas and I are the first to walk in before a couple that are on their way to the museum on Minus Five. It takes a while for the elevator to get to Minus Five to drop off the couple. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it takes more time for the elevator to pass a floor considering they are 100 feet tall.

  The doors eventually open to Minus Seven and we are greeted by the inside of what looks like a golf store. Jonas calls this the clubhouse. He has it stocked with different sets of clubs, tees, balls, and polos. There's a housekeeper behind a bar cleaning his counter with a smiling face glowing on his mask. Besides us, there’s like four other people in the clubhouse right now.

  I followed Jonas out of the clubhouse into the wide open space of Minus Seven. The walls and ceiling are illuminated blue and white to simulate clouds in the sky. It almost feels as if we are outside. The terrain of the course is a mix of vibrant greens, different shades and patterns scattered across the land for different parts of a hole. I know the brighter greens are called ‘the green,’ where the hole and flag are. The fairway has the pattern of a lawn, freshly mowed by a big riding mower. Trees scattered across the open area of the course to provide atmosphere while being out of the way of golfers shooting their balls. I can barely see it, but there is a big lake towards the center of the course. I remember water obstacles being a part of golf. If a golfer sunk their ball in the water, it was essentially gone.

  Jonas rode up to me in a golf cart as I was admiring the atmosphere of the golf course he supposedly built.

  “You built this place?” I ask Jonas.

  He lets out a soft laugh and tells me, “Not entirely. I got a bunch of housekeepers to do the heavy lifting, but I designed the course.”

  I respond only with, “I see.”

  It makes sense, considering the housekeepers will do anything we ask. I don't know how many are on Stratosylum, but they seem to be almost everywhere. It would have had to take a lot of them to build not only a golf course, but a simulated sky.

  I place my golf clubs in the back of the cart and strap them to a part of the frame so they don’t fly out and sit myself in the passenger seat next to Jonas before he drives us off to the first hole.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jonas starts his question as he’s setting up the speaker while driving. “What kind of music do you like?”

  I really hate being asked this question because I don't really listen to the same shit everyone else does. Sometimes I feel like my brain just wants to dislike whatever the majority of people like. I’ve never liked anything from the top 40’s. I doubt someone like Jonas probably knows the artists I listen to. What’s worse is I know he's just going to play whatever I say on the StratOS music app.

  “Just play anything. I’m not picky.” I told him.

  He shrugs and plays music by an indie artist I recognize.

  “You also listen to Zags Wings?” I asked Jonas.

  “Yeah! I saw them on tour a few years back when they released Scarlett Sky.” he tells me.

  “Oh cool!” I say before we continue to bond over music we like.