So, if you read my other story, called "Never Too Late", I'll be blunt with you. I have no clue what will happen to it. But, I'm very psyched about this story. I will put a dedication at the end of this chapter to some people who helped me with this story so far. So, without further ado, the first chapter of "The Genie Game". Read On!

Tyler Torres woke up to the sound of a car engine wheezing to life. It was his neighbor's car. Every morning at seven, he went out for a drive, like clockwork. On weekdays, this provided a convenient wakeup alarm. But, on Saturdays, like today? Nothing more than and inconvenience. Tyler grabbed his shoe and hurled it out the window. Years of football had his aim flying straight and true. It flew right in front of car, missing the windshield by a hair.

"Shut up, you-" the rest of what he said was drowned out by the horn of the old car, which made his curses unable to be heard. The car drove away and Tyler laid down on his bed. If someone were to see his from the ceiling's point of view, they'd see that he was tall, about five eight and a half. They'd see a perfectly flat stomach which had been tanned over during the summer but was beginning to wane in the fall. They'd see that he was wiry with muscles peeping out from below the skin. His eyes, now closed, would have been a deep green. His hair was medium brown, silky-looking, and straight as a pin.

But, Tyler could not fall back asleep. Most weekends he crashed once his neighbor drove away. But, his eyes were closed, he heard the sounds of his city- New York City- through the window. His TV was on and the blinds were closed. But he couldn't fall into the darkness. His green eyes opened and he looked at the ceiling.

"Time to get up then," he said aloud to himself. He stood, opened the blinds, and turned of the television. He walked out his front door to retrieve the shoe he threw into his neighbor's yard. Once retrieved, he flung it over his shoulder and walked back down the sidewalk. His brown hair had fallen into his eyes, something he was more than used to. Brushing it back, he thought about cutting it. He shrugged, unconcerned. Not paying attention, he strolled into the road.

"Get out of the road!" The cab driver yelled, adding some profanities. Tyler responded in kind, using profanity as well.

"Shut up, you dirt bag," adding cuss words very creatively. That was the way things worked in New York. Someone yells at you, you yell back louder. He crossed the street, ignoring the rude gesture the cabbie aimed at him. He didn't even know where he was going anymore, barefoot in his boxers with a single shoe in his hand. He shrugged. He'd get homeā€¦ eventually. As his feet followed a familiar route, he suddenly realized where he was walking. The football fields, his comfort zone. He was fast, regardless of the slight limp in his left leg after his ex-girlfriend hit him with a car. She was currently locked in a mental facility.

As Tyler walked, the rain began to fall. He mumbled a curse under his breath and ran back toward his house. It only took about ten minutes but by that time he was soaked and freezing. His mother was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. It was now about half past seven.

"Tyler, Tyler, Tyler," she said, clucking. "What have I told you about irritating Mr. Wilson?" Tyler grinned.

"Sorry Ma." He kissed her on the cheek and she chuckled.

"Up to your room. Change your clothes and get ready for breakfast. And, please, wake your father." Tyler ran upstairs and dried himself off. His hair had begun to dry already, but his shoe was soaked. He put it on the floor, letting it dry out alone. He put on a pair of loose jeans and a Linkin Park t-shirt. He then went across the hall to wake up his dad. He was a large man with smile lines around his eyes and an unpredictable glint in his eyes. He had a beard that was the color of his but was lighter after the summer sun. He snored once before Tyler shoved him off the bed.

"Wha-?" he asked. Seeing Tyler, he understood.

"Your mother?" Tyler nodded. He got up, easily towering over Tyler. Together they walked downstairs together.

"My boys," she said.

"What's for breakfast Angelina?"

"Bacon, eggs, bagels, and waffles." Tyler rubbed his hands together eagerly. His mom always made huge elaborate meals. She set the table and they all dug in.

Later, that would become a fond memory of Tyler's. There was a tough road ahead of him, one he might not even survive. But, at that moment, he was a normal seventeen year old. He thought of school, of the hottest girls at school, of all the things kids are supposed to think about.

Tyler walked at the direction of the football field once more. He had practice from the three to six. The noise of his city was like the constant drone of a mosquito in your ear. But, as a New Yorker, he had grown to love the sound. It never went away. New York City was never quiet. But, then he could hear nothing. The cars still drove, the pigeons still fought for the crumbs on the ground, But, the mosquito in his ear flew away, leaving an unexpected quiet. Then, he stopped smelling everything. He no longer smelled gasoline, car exhaust, fast food, and simply people.

His sense of taste disappeared. He no longer tasted the polluted air or water from a river somewhere in the distance. He then felt no ground beneath his feet, nor his hands tucked in his pockets, the key to the locker he used in the locker room at the field that he had been jingling in his hand. Tyler wanted to scream, but it seemed only his legs were able to move anymore, keeping him moving toward the field. Then, there was a bright, white flash of light before everything blacked out.

He awoke in a large space, surrounded by shrubbery with no openings. It was dark, the only light from a medium fire in the center. There were five sleeping bags, five duffel bags, and five sections around the fire. There were five piles of clothes, two of which were in the fashion of men, three were in the fashion of women. Only one pile was in his size so he figured that was where he was supposed to be.

"Am I dead? Is this Hell?" he asked aloud.

"No. And yes. In that order," a disembodied voice answered from the beyond his line of sight.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"In due time."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me," he yelled.

"Like I said, all in due time. Oh, and Tyler? Welcome to the Genie Game."

That was the end of the first chapter. I hope it was enjoyed thoroughly. Tyler's in for some trouble, don't you think. And so are our other four contenders. Mwahahahahaha! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, like I said before. I really don't have much to say so I'll move on to my dedications.

To MimmyMonsterbunny, as she's called on FP. She is an amazing friend and helped choose the names and will most likely help me write more in the future.

To my friend, who we'll address as FL because she also helped me to choose the names as well. She will also most likely help me write.

To my cousin, whose name is also Tyler, for helping us decide on this Tyler's last name and for letting us use his name.

That will be all. Until next time, StevieBumpkin2011, signing off!