Chapter 7: The Director's Cut
Riya tightened her grip on the kitchen knife. The cold wind on the rooftop bit against her skin. "Why did you call me Ruhi?" she asked, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear.
The man in the gray suit tucked his tablet under his arm and took a step closer to her. "Because Riya is just a username, Ruhi. It's a brand name. But I know who you really are. We chose you for this platform back when you had nothing left to lose. And now, you have so much at stake that you can't even run away."
He turned the tablet screen toward her. A bright red countdown timer was ticking down:
[REBOOTING SYSTEM UPLINK: 02:59]
"Do you really think you just cut off the internet?" he laughed, shaking his head. "Every single 'rebellion' of yours has a budget, Riya. This blackout? It was just a part of our script. The fans think you fought back against the system. Now, they love you even more. You're no longer a victim to them—you've become a hero. And a hero's digital value is always much higher."
Riya looked over the edge. The crowd gathered below the building was getting wild. They were now trying to climb up the building's metal fire escapes. The bright beams from their flashlights were cutting through the dark, reaching all the way up to the rooftop.
"You have two choices," the man said smoothly.
"Option A: I open this rooftop door. The crowd comes up, catches you, and your stream ends right here. It will be a very nasty and painful end for you."
"Option B: You come with me. We tell the world that you've been kidnapped. You will live in a luxurious underground bunker with everything you need. You simply have to record a short 'proof of life' video for your fans once a day."
Riya glanced back toward the ventilation shaft. Going back that way was impossible. She desperately hit the remaining wires inside the electrical box with her knife, but the red countdown didn't stop ticking.
She took a deep breath and let go of the knife. It clattered against the concrete. "I'll go with you," she said, her voice flat.
A triumphant smile spread across the man's face. "The right decision."
But as he walked toward her, Riya quickly picked up her old phone—the one she had discarded on the floor earlier. There were only 10 seconds left before the network rebooted. Her fingers flew across the screen, navigating deep into the platform's advanced settings. She clicked on an old option she had seen years ago during the app's early Beta phase:
[DELETE ACCOUNT & LIQUIDATE ALL ASSETS]
"What did you just do?" the man screamed. He stared down at his tablet as a bright red 'Error 404' message started flashing across his screen.
Riya looked at him and smiled. "The end of a masterpiece is always something the audience never expects. I am officially done being your product."
When the countdown hit 00:00, the lights across the entire city block flickered for a split second. Riya didn't wait. She turned and leaped straight off the edge of the roof into the pitch-darkness.
She didn't fall to her death. Instead, she landed heavily onto the metal platform of a window-washer's lift that she had secretly positioned just a few feet below the roof earlier.