This is a work of speculative fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
It seemed like every week there was a new trend to follow, challenge to attempt, or viral fad that made its rounds on the internet. This week was no different, except for the fact that I was unable to evade the hype. Day in and day out, my best friend Dominique wouldn’t stop hassling me about the latest trend.
“Bro, you’ve got to download this app!”
I didn’t know why he bothered asking me, as if I had even a remote interest in some inevitably temporary social media platform. According to him, it wasn’t just the next Chatter app. Supposedly, anyone who bought the app had also gained access to some bespoke club. I didn’t have all the details, nor did I really care.
“This time is different, it really is the trendiest thing out right now,” I mocked as he said those tired words.
I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but his voice sounded much more sincere than any of the previous weeks. With a deep sigh, I gave in to my best friend's incessant nagging. I navigated through the app emporium until I landed on the app in question. The icon was a minimalistic outline of a head’s side profile with a disco ball where the brain should’ve been. The app’s name had been even simpler, “CR APP.”
“Are you sure this is the right app?”
Dominique only nodded.
The price for the app was displayed beneath the title, “Free.” That price combined with the suspiciously simple logo design and the all capital generic title only fueled my suspicions.
“You’re positive this isn’t some foreign spyware?”
Dominique frowned in disappointment, “Devon, come on! The club opens in an hour, you coming or what?”
There I was, in the backseat of a random stranger’s car, staring out the window as it zipped down the luminous avenue. The raindrops running down the window induced a certain sleepiness that I tried so hard to fight. I could’ve been in the comfort of my own home, but instead I was being dragged to some silly club at the stroke of midnight.
“Why do you have to look so gloomy, Devon? We’re going to a club, loosen up a little.”
He knew full well that I never handled myself well in large social situations. It was that exact reason I avoided the trends and fads in the first place.
“I honestly don’t even know why I came here.”
I tried to look at the road to ease my growing social anxiety but the driver wasn’t having it. Through his rear-view mirror, he smirked and made direct eye contact with me, “Every person I pick up from here has given the place high praise.”
Why the driver felt the need to chime in, I didn’t know. It wasn’t like the secondhand account of a stranger was ever going to convince me. The creepy smirk wasn’t remotely assuring and only further convinced me to return home.
“We’ll see.”
I tried to keep my best poker face, but that required me to care about the driver’s opinion of me. Instead, the best he got was a slight scowl.
When Dominique and I hopped out of the car, I expected there to be an abysmally long line, but it wasn’t. For a normal club that would have been weird, for one that took the internet by storm, it was downright unbelievable.
“Don’t worry, everyone’s already inside,” Dominique commented as if he read my mind. He pulled out his phone to open the app before leaning towards me, “You bought the app right?”
When we got up to the five person line, I opened the app emporium and pointed to the price tag of free. Dominique snatched my phone and opened the app. After swiping through the user agreements he handed the phone back to me, and on the screen read, “Select a tier.”
There wasn’t much description, just two icons and the words, “Recall,” and “Anamnesis.” The second option, anamnesis, was double the price of the other, but even the lesser tier, recall, was still the price of a full tank of gas. For a single club entry, that was way too much.
“It’s unlimited entries, full stop. Any time, any day, as long as they’re open,” Dominique read my mind again.
While he made the prospect much more appealing, even that amount was more than what a cover charge should’ve been. I couldn’t help myself from sighing as I tapped on the first option, “When in Rome..”
Dominique smiled and put an arm across my shoulders, “Do as the Romans!”
As the line moved forward, Dominique began explaining a few ground rules, “While we’re in here, you must keep the app running. It connects to our social media accounts and pings anyone that we know within two degrees of separation.”
I heard every word he said and tried my best to decipher his words, but it was like he had been speaking another language, or explaining rocket science, “Two degrees of separation?”
Dominique looked up from his phone, completely disappointed in my lack of social terminology, “If one degree of separation is a friend, then two degrees is a friend of a friend.”
It made complete sense, but his explanation did little to ease my confusion, “How does it ping them?”
“You’ll see,” Dominique said as we reached the front of the line.
I had fully expected the bouncer to check my ID, or at least ask for some proof of entry. Instead, the burly man simply handed me some strange glasses and tapped a scanner against my phone. Watching Dominique, it was clear that he’d done this before. Unlike me he had guided the bouncer’s actions, tapping his phone against the scanner and picking up the glasses before the bouncer could even say a word.
He looked back at me as he entered the club, and gestured for me to follow, “As long as the app is running, there are no fees or checks. As for the glasses, well, you’ll see.”
I was getting tired of his cryptic comments, and oddly specific answers to questions I had only thought about, but followed him nonetheless. When we reached the interior, a strong sense of familiarity washed over me as I took the place in. I never went to clubs, bars or events so there was no way the place had actually been familiar, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.
“Have we—”
“Been here before?” Dominique finished the question for me.
“Well, have we?”
He smiled before turning back around, “That’s pretty much everyone’s first impression of the place. It’s kind of the theme here actually.”
Dominique turned around with his arms spread wide as if he were basking in all the club’s glory, “Welcome to Club Recall!”
I would have been lying if I said a bit of wonder and excitement didn’t wash over me as we walked through the club, but seeing as I was a homebody, any club would’ve done that to me.
“Hurry up and put your shades on! That’s what really sets this place apart,” Dominique urged.
Even though I had known him for the better part of eighteen years, the mind reading was starting to get creepy. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind and did as he said. A bright light overwhelmed my vision before populating it with what appeared to be a heads up display. Slowly, one by one, small icons began appearing over each person’s head. That must’ve been what he meant by “pinging.”
Although most people had a handshake icon above them, there were a few where it was replaced with an icon of two human silhouettes. When I looked back at Dominique, he had the most exclusive icon, a single silhouette.
“What do all the icons mean? Why is yours unique? What icon do I have above me?” I realized the glasses gave me more questions than answers.
Dominique put a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to stop the rapid fire questions, “Devon, slow it down a bit. The icons represent the degrees of separation, so one silhouette means that person’s a friend. Two, is a friend of a friend.”
Admittedly that made more sense than I was expecting. I looked around once more at the icons above everyone’s heads, then at the people themselves. Dominique's answer would have sufficed if the bulk majority of the people weren’t the remaining icon, “What’s the handshake?”
“Those are just people who are three degrees or more, aka, strangers. The icons make it a bit easier to meet new people, and remember old ones,” Dominique’s voice started to get distant.
When I looked back towards Dominique, he had already begun disappearing into the crowd, “Hey! Where are you going?”
“Have fun!” I heard him shout before his voice became indistinguishable from the music and loud chatter.
Of course, that was just like him, never sticking to the plan. Although I was frustrated, I had to admit that the general concept was pretty cool. The real question however, was what was I supposed to do next?
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