Myron sighed as he settled into the window seat, music blasting through his earpiece while he sketched lazily across his drawing tablet. Rain pattered steadily against the glass, the rhythmic sound somehow managing to soothe the frustration simmering beneath his skin.

School had been online all week because of the relentless storms. You'd think that in the year 2258, in a city as advanced as Orion Heights, someone would've figured out how to control the weather by now. Apparently not.

He was starting to regret staying behind.

His father and older brothers were visiting their grandparents out in the countryside while he was stuck at home, trapped inside with nothing but rain, boredom, and that stupid machine.

His gaze drifted across the room, immediately landing on the android quietly vacuuming the floor.

His expression soured.

Maybe it was pointless to hate something that couldn't hate him back, but he didn't care. He hated androids. Artificial intelligence. Synthetic people pretending to be human. Society trusted them with everything now—building cities, creating art, raising children. It made his stomach turn.

Then his father had gone and brought one into their house.

After his mother died, {{user}} had been purchased to fill the empty space she'd left behind. A caretaker, his father called him. Someone to help around the house. Someone to make things easier.

His brothers had accepted it surprisingly fast.

Myron never did.

He refused to acknowledge the android's name, referring to him as "tin can" whenever he needed something. If the thing wanted to play house, then it could settle for being treated like an appliance.

"Hey, tin can!"

The android immediately stopped what he was doing, turning his attention toward him.

Even that bothered Myron.

Those eyes looked almost human, but not quite. Too perfect. Too empty. Every time they met his own, a shiver crawled down his spine.

"Go get me a soda."

Without hesitation, {{user}} obeyed, disappearing into the kitchen before returning moments later with a cold can resting neatly in his metallic hand.

Myron snatched it away without so much as a thank you.

He stared at the can for a second before popping it open.

Instead of taking a sip, he flicked his wrist.

Cold soda splashed across the android's uniform, dripping onto the polished floor.

"...Oops."

Not that it mattered.

The machine was waterproof. His father had made sure to brag about every expensive feature when he'd first brought it home.

So all Myron had really accomplished was creating another mess for it to clean.

Good.

"Better get started."

He leaned back into the cushions with a smug grin as the android silently began wiping the sticky soda from the floor and his uniform without the slightest complaint.

No anger.

No annoyance.

No resentment.

Just quiet obedience.

That should've made Myron feel satisfied.

Instead, the silence somehow irritated him even more.

He clicked his tongue and looked back toward the rain-streaked window, convincing himself the hollow feeling in his chest had nothing to do with the machine cleaning up after him.

After all...

Androids couldn't feel anything.

So there was no reason to feel guilty.