The party continued, as Luca pushed his glasses back onto his face as his autistic tick once again slid them down onto the point of his nose. As he sat back in his silk suit, he heard his phone ring from across the room. He knew it was George as that was the only person in his life who he considered somewhat of a friend. “Luca,” said a somber sounding George, “Mr. Evans has just been found murdered in the parking deck.” Luca stopped for a moment as this was unexpected news; nothing interesting ever happened at Pointe Place is his world. He replied, “That’s horrible, thank you for telling me,” before hanging up; their interactions were always short as George knew he wasn’t keen socially. For some reason Blasi thought about his father as he heard of Mr. Evans’s death. “Would I care?” he thought to himself. As a wealthy Swiss banker, Luca’s father never had time to show his son any compassion or sympathy for that matter. After moving out, he vowed to help people like himself deal with people like his dad, and what better way to do that than to steal from the very intuition that stole his father away from him. With each stroke of the keyboard, Blasi grew one step closer to his final goal: hacking his father’s bank.
Thursday, October 25, 2018
Post #1 - The Party
As Luca Blasi sat on his computer in his dark spacious loft, he heard the bumping music of Griffin Crimson’s party above his head. He always thought it was funny how Crimson always flaunted his wealth for the world to see like he was so special. Blasi had made more than him in his life, yet he never told anyone. However, the fact he never told anyone isn’t solely due to his humble nature; it was also may be his lack of friends. Being born with high functioning autism, it was always hard for him to get out and be social. Instead of making friends, the obsessive and ritualistic nature of Blasi’s illness fueled him to pursue another interest: coding. From a young age, his teacher saw him as a prodigy with a computer. By the age of 19, he had skipped college completely and had built the firewall for over 200 companies. Despite this success, Blasi became disinterested with the corporate life. He wanted more excitement, more danger. He became a hacker.
The party continued, as Luca pushed his glasses back onto his face as his autistic tick once again slid them down onto the point of his nose. As he sat back in his silk suit, he heard his phone ring from across the room. He knew it was George as that was the only person in his life who he considered somewhat of a friend. “Luca,” said a somber sounding George, “Mr. Evans has just been found murdered in the parking deck.” Luca stopped for a moment as this was unexpected news; nothing interesting ever happened at Pointe Place is his world. He replied, “That’s horrible, thank you for telling me,” before hanging up; their interactions were always short as George knew he wasn’t keen socially. For some reason Blasi thought about his father as he heard of Mr. Evans’s death. “Would I care?” he thought to himself. As a wealthy Swiss banker, Luca’s father never had time to show his son any compassion or sympathy for that matter. After moving out, he vowed to help people like himself deal with people like his dad, and what better way to do that than to steal from the very intuition that stole his father away from him. With each stroke of the keyboard, Blasi grew one step closer to his final goal: hacking his father’s bank.
The party continued, as Luca pushed his glasses back onto his face as his autistic tick once again slid them down onto the point of his nose. As he sat back in his silk suit, he heard his phone ring from across the room. He knew it was George as that was the only person in his life who he considered somewhat of a friend. “Luca,” said a somber sounding George, “Mr. Evans has just been found murdered in the parking deck.” Luca stopped for a moment as this was unexpected news; nothing interesting ever happened at Pointe Place is his world. He replied, “That’s horrible, thank you for telling me,” before hanging up; their interactions were always short as George knew he wasn’t keen socially. For some reason Blasi thought about his father as he heard of Mr. Evans’s death. “Would I care?” he thought to himself. As a wealthy Swiss banker, Luca’s father never had time to show his son any compassion or sympathy for that matter. After moving out, he vowed to help people like himself deal with people like his dad, and what better way to do that than to steal from the very intuition that stole his father away from him. With each stroke of the keyboard, Blasi grew one step closer to his final goal: hacking his father’s bank.
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