The Key to the Past

BOOM THUMP CRASH ♪♫

Ah, the joys of living in the future! Flying cars, holograms everywhere, and... neighbors with about as much musical taste as a vacuum cleaner having an existential crisis. Magnificent.

Adrian (22 years old, single, music producer) and already as lively as a plastic plant, stared at his holographic ceiling. His dark circles could have served as makeup for an entire troupe of goths.

"For fuck's sake," he mumbled into his 799,99-credit anti-grav pillow. The thing worked about as well as a paper umbrella.

The next morning.

Knock. "Sir?"

"Nnnrghhhh."

Ro-13 the robotic butler stood in the doorway, straight as a ruler. "The hour is 7 AM, and your schedule awaits."

Adrian's journey to the dining room resembled a documentary on the walking dead. Shuffle. Drag. Pause. Repeat. The escalator helped, barely.

A chirpy service bot rolled up with what looked like edible mercury.

"Your breakfast, sir: Premium Jelly with 'Grandma-Style Steak' flavor. 100% synthetic guaranteed!"

The jelly wobbled. Adrian could've sworn it winked at him.

"Sir?" Ro-13 dropped a sonic bomb. "COSMIC VINE IS HERE! THEY'RE READY TO RECORD YOUR COMPOSITION!"

Adrian choked on his metallic jelly."Today? But... but I can't handle more pop!"

The studio door whooshed open. Five teenagers with hair defying physics bounced in, eyes sparkling like they'd discovered alien life. There stood their idol - the Pop Genius - in wrinkled pajamas, in flesh and dark circles.

They'd heard the stories. His track "I love robot no it's a joke" had supposedly crashed half the city's AI network and made cybernetic beings weep.

Adrian slumped into his anti-gravity chair, coffee in hand. "Whatever. Go."

"DAD, I LOVE YOU, YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE! ♪♫"

He winced. Tried to wave them off. Failed.

"YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE!" They cranked the volume to max.

Then it happened. His foot started tapping. By itself.

His body betrayed him. He got up from his chair and began to dance moonwalk."What kind of weird dance is this?"

"No..." Horror dawned on his face. "The Synthwave Groove AI! It's making me... DANCE?!"

"Security, get these clowns out of my sight!"

A squat security bot materialized, pincers snapping. Five quick grabs - like a plush toys in a claw machine.

"DAD, I LOVE YOU, YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE! ♪♫" Their voices echoed down the hall as they vanished.

Adrian stared into his coffee's abyss. "Another day in paradise..."

But the damage was done. That cursed tune burrowed into his brain like a virus. "Dad, I love you, you are my- NOOO!”

Dragging himself downstairs, he collapsed onto the couch. His holographic tablet flickered to life - endless streams of floating cat photos. Even the AI seemed to yawn at its own suggestions.

Whoosh! Ro-13 materialized behind him.

"GAAH!" Adrian's tablet went flying. "Ro-13! I told you about the materialization thing! My heart implants aren't covered by insurance!"As if this family needed insurance, they probably own half the Moon.

"Sir, about your father's birthday tribute..."

Adrian shot Ro-13 The Look. The one that would make any sensible AI shut down. But butler bots were like pop-up ads - terminally persistent.

"Your father expects a musical masterpiece."

Holographic memories sprayed across the room as he flicked open an old album. His past performances floated by, each one more soul-crushing than the last.

"How adorable you are in these photos, sir."

Adrian grimaced. He felt like a clown being mocked in a poorly written show. At 8 years old - blessed time when he still thought singing for dad was cool, at 10 years old, the smile already a bit forced, like someone starting to realize that life isn't a virtual reality musical, at 18 years old... good lord, his eyes were as empty as an iPhone 89 battery.

SNAP. The album closed.

He leaped up suddenly, arms spread wide, looking like a prophet having an epiphany.

. "This year! This year I'll throw him a party that'll short-circuit his emotion chip! HAHAHA!"

His laughter bounced off empty walls, too dramatic by half. Ro-13 stood frozen, but inside its circuits, something stirred. A memory file, crystal-clear with machine precision, began to play...

Adrian Grandpa. Now there was a man married to music - the kind that survived centuries, that spoke to souls. He'd shake his head at the digital noise his descendants preferred, their faces buried in virtual worlds. No one shared his passion. No one except Ro-13.

That was robots for you - perfect listeners. You could ramble about suspended sevenths and diminished fifths for hours. They never rolled their eyes or changed the subject to "Hey, checked out the new DreamScape patch?"

"HAHAHA- uh..." Adrian's triumphant laugh died mid-breath. He deflated back onto the couch. Silence crept in.

"Sir," Ro-13's voice cut through the quiet, "your grandfather's room contains extensive records of classical compositions. Perhaps..."

Adrian's eyes lit up with sudden mischief. A slow smirk spread across his face. "Ah...yes... What if I searched my grandfather's room? Brilliant idea."

He marched toward grandpa's forbidden room, channeling his inner tomb raider.

"OW!" He bounced off the door, clutching his forehead. "What is this... this... primitive thing?"

Another attempt.Because clearly, the door needed a second chance to become automatic.

"Sir," Ro-13's monotone barely concealed its amusement, "this appears to be what was once called a 'manual door.' It requires a 'key.'"

Adrian squinted at the keyhole like it was an alien artifact. In 2324, people thought 'keys' were an urban legend, like WiFi or non-holographic screens.

"A physical interface that-" Ro-13 began, projecting a holographic key.

"I know what a key is!" interrupted Adrian. "I've watched historical documentaries about the 21st century!" He's lying.

Adrian rolled his eyes. "Perfect. Finding a metal stick in this place will be like debugging Dad's neural implants - impossible."

The search led nowhere until... there. A suspicious carpet by the entrance, thick with dust. Adrian crouched down.

"What is this thing?"

"A carpet, sir,"

"It's... disgusting," he whispered, looking at it as if it might bite him. Adrian tried to lift the carpet without actually touching it, making ridiculous hand gestures. After a ridiculous struggle with the carpet, he finally discovered a small rusty key.

"HEY! What're you-"

Click. Ro-13's metallic fingers turned the key. The door groaned open like it was waking from a century's sleep.

Adrian stepped into another era. No holograms. No synthetic plants. No screens. Time had missed this room entirely.

Suddenly the floor creaked beneath his feet. Adrian tumbled through darkness, landing hard in... an underground treasure trove?

Vinyl records. Real instruments. Actual paper music sheets. A shrine to analog sound. Then, searching buried in dusty holo-files,Adrian discovered a stunning truth. “certain families - those who'd built this perfect world - had access to time travel, the most improbable technology…”

His heart thundered. "Ro-13... are you...?"

The robot's golden eyes gleamed differently now. "Yes, sir. I'm your temporal guide. The past's symphonies await."

For the first time in years, a genuine smile lit up Adrian's face.

Funny how in a world of touchless tech, sometimes you just need an old key and a creaky door to find your way forward.