Twisted — S.M. Smith

Drew's addiction was anything but naturally occurring. Most people came to wireheading casually. Drew sought it out and orchestrated a downward spiral to rival the most determined user. Twisting, overloading his in-brain computing wetware again and again with the electricity that gave you a no-strings-attached high, became a means and and end rolled into one.

Jax, Drew's big brother, wetware designer and genius, said that wireheads were missing out on the truth in the feed. That they were buying into today's culture of mediocrity for a cheap thrill. He said it, then he went over the highway guardrail into the canyon, twisted out of his mind.

With Drew's parents still mourning the death of their best and brightest, it isn't as as if Drew can't hide his own personal tragedy behind the haze of electricity, his motorcycle, and the interchangeable citizens of the city of San Angeles.

Except, now Drew's got some dataphisher and her little bodyguard on his tail, telling him everything but what they really want. Now he's getting both the carrot and the stick from the same Multinational that had employed his brother, with no indication of what they're looking for, either. Now, there are rumors that Jax's accident wasn't exactly what it looked like. And now Drew's starting to think maybe he took this addiction a little too far.