It must've entered the house when I was sleeping. Only the sound of soft piano echoed throughout the rooms from the living area. Not a knock on the front door, not its handling with the door lock, not even its footsteps stirred me. Only the foreign yet beautifully played classical music.

As I crept down the hall toward the melodic tune, two things came to mind. First, what did it look like? And second, androids were machines capable of perfecting piano or any other instrument, so was I supposed to be impressed?

I passed the vanity table containing a picture frame that changed between several digital images of Dad and I every thirty seconds. I managed to capture his genuine smile in those shots and was glad to immortalize it because I haven't seen it since the accident.

I continued, anticipating what I would see.

Colife had assured Dad and I would receive the latest, state-of-the-art domestic android. I hope it was nothing like the previous droid Dad named Junkard.

Dad complained of Junkard's plastic "skin" and how it irritated his own during sponge baths. He swore a chemical in the synthetic casing was causing the sores on his hips, although any medical specialist would tell him bedsores were from his inactivity and immobility.

Colife Industries could have supplied him with the mechanics to stand on his own but stubborn should've been Dad's first name. He refused to become a "dirty cyborg" and insisted on learning to walk on his own.

That dream became as dead as the severed nerves in his spine, but no one could tell him otherwise.

I entered the living area and stared at the back of its head as it stiffly sat at the piano bench. His fingers gently scaled over the ivory, and I finally took a moment to take in the sweet melody.

Its hair sat, short, dark, straight, and neat atop its head. Boring. The circuitry on the back of its neck reminded me of Junkard's, as Colife made sure to brand their double C insignia on the loaner androids. Of course, they would send us another off-market droid with visible branding. The court order never said the droid they sent had to be a custom model like the ones rich families splurged on.

Its back and shoulders weren't as stiff as Junkard's either, and if it wasn't for the black cybersuit it wore, I could've compared the rest of it too.

The music stopped and I froze. I dare not blink. My eyes widened as it turned in its seat to greet me with its stare. Its almond shaped bright grey eyes pulled me in, as I never seen anything like them before. Its clean, even, soft-looking pale skin, fully pouty lips, dark, neatly shaped eyebrows, and perfectly placed nose reminded me of the members of South Korean boybands that took the world by storm in recent history.

Stunning.

"Hello," he spoke with a low yet rich vocal tone.

"How did you get in?" The thought swam in the back of my head but wasn't meant to leap from my lips. Too late.

It stood and every joint in its body moved exactly as it should, unlike Junkard whose flexibility and agility ceased to exist. "Sorry to startle you. I was instructed to meet Leonardo Newall and his father James Newall at this location at twelve o'clock noon by Colife Industries."

"Yea." I nodded. "But that doesn't answer my question. How did you get in my house?"

Much different than the undetailed droid we've grown familiar with, this one's build was nothing short of perfect as I could make out every line and curve of developed muscle beneath the tight, black cybersuit. Taller than me by a couple inches, V-shaped muscular torso, small waist, thighs like a racehorse. Human-like in every way. On the left breast of the suit were the letters X-NDR embroidered in white.

"Colife Industries provided me the ability to access your residence with your permission." That's right. We signed those documents granting permission weeks ago. Its eyebrows dipped with a look of concern, and I became instantly impressed with this updated version. "I'm sorry to have startled you. You must be Leonardo Newall."

"I'm not startled." I swiped the air dismissively, taking note that even Junkard came preloaded with info and images about us. "And it's Leo. Just call me Leo."

It smiled.                                                            

I stared.

A nice realistic row of naturally white teeth, even a pair of laugh lines around its lips drew me in. The old models freaked me out with their uncanny grins and cold stare, but this one ... whoa.

"Incredible." I tilted my head out of curiosity. "You look amazing. So real."

Did its cheeks turn red? "Thank you, Leo. It's a joy you approve my skin."

I took note of the way it referenced its skin. "Do you know why you're here?"

"I am here as a domestic caregiver for James Newall. I will care for his daily needs to provide a quality of life—"

"Why'd you mention your skin?" I sneered, keeping a comfortable distance between us.

"My skin?" It mimicked me and tilted its head.

"Do you know about the incident with the previous droid that used to stay here with us? Its skin?"

"Yes." It nodded. "I am fully aware of your and James' complications with the previous domestic caregiver as to not repeat them." When I didn't say anything, it continued. "James believed your previous caregiver's skin gave him bodily harm. But there's no need for concern, because my skin is made from a new patented material that will prevent any adverse reactions."

"How are you so sure?" I focused in on the intricate freckles around its nose and looked for any other unique blemishes.

"I can show you if you like." It ran its fingers along certain points near his temple and behind its ear where the bright green external circuitry ran in a continuous line from the insignia on the nape of its neck. Then it quickly rolled up its shirt sleeve, removed the fitted black glove to expose the slender fingers of its hand and its forearm. It effortlessly and painlessly lifted a piece of the synthetic skin from his forearm.

I grimaced, thankful the thin material acted like rubber when detached and only circuitry and metal skeleton was visible underneath. "Okay, okay. That's good enough."

"Are you sure?" It paused, waiting for an answer. "I can provide a sample so you can be certain it won't cause irritation."

"That's okay." I nodded, urging him to replace the skin. "I trust the company."

"You do?"

We paused for a split second before he expertly replaced the skin and readjusted his clothes.

"Have you met my father yet?" I glanced toward the master bedroom out of habit.

It took my cue and looked in that direction too. "No, not yet. But I would love to meet him." It flashed a pleasant smile.

I nodded and walked across the living area toward the short hall that led to Dad's room. It followed, walking with a casual swagger that made me want to watch longer than would be appropriate.

I tapped my knuckles on the closed door. "Dad? You awake?"

"Come in. Come in." His groggy voice told me he had just awakened.

I opened the door to Dad lying on his back in bed. The hazy sunlight through the window highlighted the fresh white linens as he sat slightly reclined with the blankets pulled to his waist. "We have a new roommate," I announced cheerfully, hoping to see a smile on Dad's face but knowing he wouldn't crack.

We walked past the dresser where another elaborate picture frame scrolled through digital photos of my college acceptance letters. The one from Arizona State University I had chosen along with the scholarship letter took the spotlight. I never questioned why none of those pictures featured Mom and Dad, but her absence from our lives said plenty.

Dad reached over to the nightstand to gather his glasses. Putting the large, thick lenses on his face, he stared at the new caregiver. "Oh, I see. Hmm. You look nothing like that piece of shit we had roaming around here for years. You don't sound as janky either." He nodded, approving. "Colife has come a long way. What's your name, huh?" He stared at the letters on its breast.

"I will respond to the name you give me, sir."

Dad pointed and scoffed. "We got us a polite one here, huh? All this sir business. I haven't been called sir since I retired from Colife's manufacturing division. What was that eight years ago?" He glanced to me for confirmation.

"Nine," I said. "You left right before the turn of the new millennium."

"Left?" He scoffed again, his dark brown eyes becoming void. "You make it sound like I had a choice." The way his hair had receded and turned white since then made me question if I would encounter the same fate. It had only been nearly a decade since Dad had the thick wavy head of hair of a genetically lucky man in his forties. Maybe it was a combination of medication and lack of exercise and sunshine that caused him to seemingly age so quickly.

"What should we call it?" I asked, as if we were discussing a stray dog we rescued from the cold, lonely streets. Embarrassed, I refused eye contact with it after realizing the rudeness in my question. Should I apologize? Did it even care?

"It doesn't look or move like a Junkard." He examined it with his eyes, thinking. "What does that say on its uniform?"

"X-NDR." I scratched my temple. It must've detected my confusion and discomfort. 

"Sir, I am the latest X model in the NDR series," it explained. "I—"

"Blah, blah, blah, can you make a good martini?" Dad's eyebrow raised. "I heard you on the piano. I can tell what you're capable of. As much as I love my boy, he doesn't have those hand skills that makes one talented in musical arts or perfecting a martini. So, I thought when I heard you play Strauss that you were indeed a keeper."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, sir. I can make martinis." The subtle smile lines on the corner of its lips faded. "However, I've looked over your list of medications and many advise against mixing—"

"Listen." Dad put his hand up to cut in. "In my house, you do what I say when I say. You got that?"

I shook my head. "Dad, he won't do anything to cause harm to you. Including giving you alcohol while you're on meds."

"Are you talking to me like I'm dumb, son?" He removed his glasses, taking on a more serious glare. "I know the whole deal. You act like I wasn't in charge of manufacturing those thing's parts. But anyway, if I want booze that's why I have you, am I right?" He scoffed again. "I'm done until I need to change my briefs. Show it the schedule, will you? And give it a name too."

He shooed us out of the room with a flick of a wrist.

As soon as we were in the living area, it turned to me. "I have already been provided James Newall's caretaking schedule."

"Good!" I smiled halfheartedly, focusing on the exposed part of its neck and how true to form he was to a perfect male specimen, Adam's apple an all. "Do you mind if I refer to you as male?"

Its eyes widened in what looked like surprise. "Thank you for asking. Yes, you may refer to me as male."

I forced a smile and watched as he mirrored me. Although it slightly unnerved me to have him copy my facial gestures, his smile was more than charming, and I had a hard time looking away. "Is there a name you'd like us to call you?"

"No. But most identify me by my model or serial number." He glanced to the words on his chest again.

"I think I have a name for you." I nodded confidently. "What do you think of Xander?"

His eyes grew big with intrigue as well as his grin. "I love it."

"Love?" I scratched my temple. "You love it?"

"It's an expression used to denote affection towards something or someone." He tilted his head as if reading the confusion on my face. "Would you prefer that I do not use the word love?"

For once I was tongue tied. I didn't know how to answer. So, I didn't.

~~~

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