‘Are you still watching?’
The gray box popped up.
Almost like a reflex, her finger moved the cursor to the box labeled ‘Continue Watching’. How rude for a piece of code, she thought. Of course, she wanted to continue watching.
Miffed, she returned to the travails of The Banker. A ruthless genius clawing his way to the top of the ruthless financial world. An ambitious wizard who could turn defeats to victories. A lovable rogue who could deliver more wisdom in one line than that found in twenty books. He’s so me, she thought. Such a man might be despicable in the “real” world. Loathed for his poisonous, pointless ambition. But behind the comfort of her LED screen, he was enjoyable, awe-worthy, even inspiring.
It was a Friday night. She was 6 episodes in, 4 glasses of wine down and waiting with bated breath for the final climactic moments. She remarked about the marvels of modern technology, that had made it possible for her to live through the Banker’s journey in one night. Unlike the forgotten days of yore where one would have to wait 7 days to know the next chapter of a story, interjected with advertisers hawking the latest, shiniest toy.
There was no more waiting now. It was the comforting, cool glow of the laptop screen and her. It was instant, omnipresent and with more choices than a Subway sandwich.
Oh wait, the Secretary had betrayed the Banker. Of course, it was right there. No one would’ve guessed it. But she did. Of course, it had to be the Secretary. She had been picking up the subtle hints. She would definitely brag about it Monday to her co-workers. Everyone would’ve watched it by then.
Cold thrill surged through her body as she saw the Secretary’s evil plan to bring down the Banker unfold. The handcuffed Banker and led away by the police. Her heart cried for him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was a victim of the system. Hadn’t she felt like a victim countless times?
But, he wasn’t a chump. He’d get out of the mess with a smile on his face. He’d rain cold fury on his enemies. The camera zoomed onto the Banker’s face, and she waited with bated breath for his final line. The line for T-shirts, mugs and posters. The line that would take pop-culture by storm. His riposte. His final cut.
The screen went black. She looked up. It had been 6 hours since she moved. After the perfect composed score of the show, her empty apartment felt quiet.
Too quiet. Almost uneasily so. She sat numb and unfeeling and for one fraction of a second emptiness enveloped her tired brain. She felt that the emptiness was speaking to her. Questioning her, almost berating her. She felt slightly guilty. Even wasteful.
Her phone chimed. People were going crazy about the show on Twitter. She sent out her 5 stars, 156 character review and looked up shows like The Banker. She needed something new now.
Meanwhile, the gray box seemed to be back and was asking, almost as if it were taunting her.
‘Are you still watching?’
