Crimson Rain by Tex Leiko

passed the test or not. What girls liked him? What teachers hated him? Even stupid things like what he would have for lunch he stressed about.
    Max was intelligent, maybe too much. It ’ s what caused his great anxiety. He couldn ’ t shut off his brain; he couldn ’ t sleep. He was unnatural in his ability to work on complex projects and thoughts. As a child, his parents had him “ upgraded ” with every last intelligence booster Synaptix had to offer, so it was a terrific understatement to say he was smart.
    As he progressed in school, the learning and the practical application were a breeze to him. What was difficult was not stressing over whether or not he had stepped on that flower on his hurried way into the classroom. Complex issues were a breeze, but daily life for him became torture. He had to tie his shoelaces “ the right way. ” Sometimes this meant he would tie and retie forty, fifty, sixty times to get them exactly “ right . ”
    The neurosis started taking over his life. That ’ s when, at the ripe age of twenty, he was introduced to stims and boosts. Stimulants, or stims for short, were drugs one could purchase anywhere—grocery stores, plasma shops, or even vending machines. They were used to treat a variety of issues . A nything a person wanted, he or she could find—muscle building stims, relaxing stims, concentration stims, agility stims ; you name it, they could be found.
    They often came in generic-looking bottles with only one or two words on the label telling what they were for—strength, mass, tone, speed, concentration, relaxation, joy, and the list went on. They were color coded so that nobody mistook one for the other. Really, even the biggest simpleton could find what they needed and use it, absolutely legal. However, not without risk.
    Stimulants had to be taken daily and took about a week to build in one ’ s system to achieve the desired result. There was a list of side effects and warnings on the back of each bottle due to the fact that it was required to be printed. Full disclosure was the only law companies had to follow these days. Stims were typically pretty benign with the side effects; however, they were still addictive.
    The typical case of stim addiction took about six months of use followed by the user trying to quit cold turkey; cold turkey was never advised. The discreet user of stims knew to give their body frequent breaks to avoid addiction. Also, the use of a boost with the same effect as a stim was never advised. The drugs metabolized i n such similar ways that it would cause an amplification effect that the body, although being able to process it, would begin to wear the user down and cause an early demise .
    Stimulants, kept in their place, were great for anyone seeking an easy solution to a result they desired. They were relatively safe and effective. They were intended for the patient user who didn ’ t mind waiting for the results and who didn ’ t mind the results being often times subtle.
    That wasn ’ t Max ’ s style, however. He wasn ’ t patient when it came to the things he wanted. He wanted peace. He wanted to be able to shut down his brain and relax. Every waking second, he heard his own voice reasoning on a hundred different things. He always felt sick from a lack of sleep and he didn ’ t know how to control his creativity or his intellect properly.
    His obsessive compulsive behavior was all - consuming and he wanted a quick fix; he didn ’ t want to wait. Even more, he didn ’ t want a subtle change that helped him turn off his brain. He wanted something fast, nearly immediate. As quickly as his brain worked on and processed information, he wanted it to shut off at command even quicker. He couldn ’ t do it on his own , though.
    That ’ s when he turned to boosts. Twenty years, one month, seven days, thirteen hours, eleven minutes , and thirty-three seconds. That ’ s how old Max had been when he injected his first boost. He had been