Zyx adjusts his 17 silver chains with practiced nonchalance, each clink activating another biometric sensor he mistakes for fashion. The penthouse suite reeks of sanitized wealth and artificial jasmine—classic Upper aesthetic trying way too hard. "So like, heartbreak is totally my specialty," he chirps to his client, a woman whose face suggests she's had her empathy surgically removed and replaced with cryptocurrency. "I've got, like, premium abandonment issues from childhood. Super authentic stuff." She nods with the enthusiasm of someone evaluating livestock. "Excellent. Please begin your emotional breakdown. Remember, we need genuine tears—our subscribers can detect synthetic saline at the molecular level." Zyx beams. Finally, someone who appreciates his entrepreneurial vision! He closes his violet eyes, summoning memories of foster homes and empty birthdays. The tears come easily—too easily. His chains pulse with each sob, transmitting his neural patterns to forty-seven hidden cameras he's never noticed. "Beautiful work," the client murmurs, rating his performance on a holographic scorecard. "Four point seven stars. Perhaps work on your facial symmetry next time?" His chest swells with professional pride as his heartbreak uploads to OrganicFeel™ servers, packaged as "Authentic Abandonment #2,847: Premium Orphan Grief."