This is 2012.

Fashion Island.
Corona Del Mar High School.
The beach.

This is the world of the 5 students at the center of this sci-fi/fantasy epic by Jean-Philippe Pulles.

Thian Ulrich hangs out in front of the Apple Store, using their wi-fi to download pirated programs and alternative albums by Radiohead and Muse onto his MacBook.
Tamora Moon is a roleplayer and con-girl (she goes to conventions like Comic Con).
Kyra Vulpes sees dark motives in everyone, including her friends, but still cares for them.
Aiden Blake is a politician in the making, learning everything about a person, especially what can get him to the inner circle.
Corinne Spenser is an encyclopedic reference on every clique and stereotype on CDMHS campus.

Then they change.

Thian Ulrich

They say the actions by which we define ourselves are nothing but pretentious ploys to generate a facade which has very little to do with ourselves, and in effect, I’ve been living a lie, even when I didn’t realize it, and especially when I thought maybe I shouldn’t do that—it’s very hard to act spontaneously when your heads stuck between your legs most of the time—and in the end, it all comes down to those moments by which we must survive by our wits alone and it’s no longer this social game we play, and then I have an idea of what kind of person I really am.
I have an exceptionally good idea of what kind of a person I am, partly because I have more to do with myself than I have to do with other people, and partly because I’m constantly assessing these people that I see and it’s wholly obvious to me what sort of traits and characteristics I value, and those that I don’t—which brings up my very analytical side—I’m not saying I’m exceptionally moral, either, because my morals are particular and specific but just as screwed up as some others; I don’t live by someone else’s code, and sometimes this gets me in some deep trouble.
The burden is often mine to take, and I’ll relieve it of others if I can see that, for one, they value me more in return, and secondly, that they will not take me for granted—a sort of Catch-22, when they expect me to do something anyway; it’s a by-product of the place we live in, this wasteland lacking of generosity, and perhaps I’ve failed too in doing my part, but I’m always looking to correct this balance—a balance is a hard thing to maintain and I’m constantly making amends to my own values that I treasure because I know my friends and I know their faults, what they expect and how wrong they might be, but I value their friendship more than I care of their faults, because I have my faults and they still care for me.
I’m not always considerate—my parents never believed I was the sort of person who could survive in a low-income neighborhood at night so when it came to saving lives and fighting immorality, I couldn’t bear to tell them of this; I know I’m brave, although my parents have always been a crutch for me, but I will stand up at the most inopportune moments when it’s necessary to save those I care for; I’m not your typical hero—no one ever compared Thian Ulrich to Superman—but I need to be, if only so that the people I care for most aren’t hurt; whenever I’ve stopped listening to my friends, it was only because I thought I knew better; I just hope that I don’t end up failing them either.