Jenna's fingers trembled as she approached the vending machine, its sleek surface glowing with promises of instant emotional gratification. JOY. SERENITY. CONFIDENCE. Each option flickered enticingly, but Jenna's eyes fixed on one: GENUINE SMILE - 750 CREDITS. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the activation panel. 750 credits was steep, more than a day's wages at the emotion refinement plant. But it had been so long since she'd felt the warmth of a real smile, not the artificial upturn of lips that passed for happiness in New Angeles.
A group of executives brushed past, their emotion indicators pulsing a steady, EmotiCorp-approved blue. One glanced at Jenna, his eyes flickering to her own indicator, currently a dull grey of indecision. She felt the judgment in his gaze and made her choice. The machine hummed as it processed her credits. A small, iridescent vial dropped into the dispensing tray with a soft clink. Jenna snatched it up, hiding it in her palm as she hurried to the Relaxation Pods lining the far wall. Inside the pod, Jenna broke the vial's seal, inhaling deeply as a shimmering mist enveloped her. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, warmth bloomed in her chest, spreading outward. The corners of her mouth twitched, then lifted. A chuckle escaped her lips, then another. Soon, she was laughing, tears streaming down her face. It felt glorious. It felt real.
As the effect began to fade, Jenna caught sight of her reflection in the pod's mirrored surface. Her smile, radiant and genuine, was already dimming. But something else remained – a spark in her eyes that hadn't been there before. She stepped out of the pod, her mind racing. What if there was more to feeling than these artificial highs? What if— "Citizen, your emotional output is exceeding recommended levels." Jenna froze. An EmotiCorp Regulator stood before her, his uniform pristine, his face an expressionless mask. "I... I just used a Genuine Smile product," Jenna stammered. "It's within my weekly allowance.” The Regulator's eyes narrowed. "Your residual emotional resonance is unusually high. Report to Adjustment Center 5 for recalibration." "But I haven't done anything wrong!" The words came out louder than Jenna intended, tinged with an anger she hadn't felt in years. Heads turned. A crowd began to gather, emotion indicators flickering with forbidden curiosity. "Citizen, calm yourself," the Regulator warned, reaching for his emotion suppressor. In that moment, Jenna made a choice. With her heart pounding and a grin – a real, defiant grin – spreading across her face, she ran. She ran past the shocked onlookers, past the vending machines with their hollow promises. She ran towards the outer sectors, where rumours spoke of people who lived without regulators, who felt everything, who were truly alive. As alarms blared behind her, Jenna laughed. For the first time in her life, she knew what she was feeling.
Freedom.
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"The Price of a Smile" - A Short Story from the World of "The Empath Economy"
Step into the neon-lit streets of New Angeles, where emotions are commodities and feeling comes with a price tag. This short story offers a glimpse into the world of "The Empath Economy," a cyberpunk thriller that explores the consequences of a society where emotions are harvested, regulated, and sold.
In this future, EmotiCorp controls every aspect of human feeling. But beneath the surface of carefully modulated emotions, a resistance is brewing. Some, like Jenna in our story, are beginning to question the cost of emotional control.
"The Price of a Smile" sets the stage for the larger narrative of "The Empath Economy," where Mira Chen, an emotion harvester, uncovers a conspiracy that threatens humanity's ability to feel. As you read, imagine a world where your every emotion is monitored, measured, and manipulated. Ask yourself: In a society that commodifies feelings, what is the true price of being human?
Dive into this short tale, and if it leaves you craving more, "The Empath Economy" awaits with a full exploration of this chilling yet all-too-possible future.