Dylan McGehin graduated high school a year and a half early, landed a
glass-building internship off the 215, and lasted three weeks - right up
until he watched nine adults close their eyes in a conference room to
practice gratitude on a schedule.

This is the story of the week after. The week he handed back his lanyard,
said the one true thing he'd never said to his father, and met a girl
named Ara who could out-notice him at his own game. Somewhere between an
abandoned dairy full of rusting silos and his twelve-year-old sister
throwing a lunch tray at a girl who'd gone fake, Dylan starts to untangle
the difference between being right about the world and actually being
alive in it.

Told in the sharp, funny, unbearably honest voice of a narrator who can't
stop cataloguing everyone's performance - including his own - THE LAST
REAL ONE is a modern Inland Empire answer to a classic: a coming-of-age
story about the cost of seeing through everything, and the harder, better
trick of learning to look for what's real instead.