15. EPILOGUE
“Hey, miss! You forgot your sketchbook!”
I spun around. The driver was leaning across the passenger seat, holding my glitter sketchbook out through the open door.
“Oh my stars.” I jogged back and took it from him, hugging it against my chest. “Thank you. Seriously.”
“Happens all the time.”
“I believe it!”
“Catch you in orbit!” he called as the window slid shut. The cab lifted off the pavement and slipped back into the transit lane above the shops.
I stood there for a second, clutching my sketchbook against my ribs. Then I turned and walked into the Jelly Lounge.
The door chimed open, and the floor beneath my boots turned clear.
“Oh, how I’ve missed this place,” I whispered.
“Hi, welcome to the Jelly Lounge. Table for one?” the hostess greeted me with a bright smile.
“Oh, actually, I’m here meeting—”
“Vada!” Zhari shouted from across the cafe. “Hi, my little noodle!”
I smiled and waved before turning back to the hostess.
“I’m meeting my girlfriend. Thank you, though!”
“Of course! Enjoy your meal.” She smiled and moved on to greet the people behind me.
I still wasn't used to it. The glass floor. The enormous tank stretching beneath us, glowing with blue-green light. There were even new fish swimming through it, including bright pink ones with tiny blue speckles scattered across their backs.
I suppose when your tank was connected directly to the ocean, you were always bound to see something new.
“How phenomenal,” I breathed, watching one disappear into the glowing water.
Every step I took sent little pulses of light scattering beneath my feet.
I walked down the aisle between the tables, where Zhari was waiting at a back table against the wall of the tank. She wore a gray sweater with the hood pushed off her shoulders, her hair twisted into a messy bun and a huge smile spread across her face.
She lifted a hand and waved me over.
Then she jumped out of her seat and grabbed me, squeezing me so tightly I laughed.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you! Stars, it’s been way too long.”
“It’s only been two weeks.” I laughed, nuzzling into her neck.
Two weeks had still been too long. I missed everything about her.
“I know, but two weeks is too long,” she whispered in my ear.
She kissed both my cheeks before pulling back, her hands still resting on my shoulders.
“I’m just so happy you’re here. And I’m done with this tour.”
She took my bag from my shoulder and set it on the seat beside her before sitting down. I dropped into the chair across from her.
“I just cannot believe you’re here.” She reached across the table, palm up, still smiling.
I placed my hand in hers, and she closed her fingers around mine.
“But you’re late,” she said.
“I am not late. I am fashionably arriving.”
I set my glitter sketchbook on the table between us.
“Also, I almost left this in the cab.”
“Again?”
“Again.”
She laughed and shook her head, her thumb brushing over my knuckles.
A server drifted past and set a Luminal Fizz beside my elbow. She’d ordered one for me before I even arrived.
“So,” she said. “Tell me.”
“I did it. I told my parents I had a nice girlfriend who was a hot space babe. They want to meet you. I had to mute the group chat because mum was pushing my buttons. I know she means well, and probably so happy I am not alone anymore. I also quit! I told Carla no more!”
I was grinning so hard my cheeks hurt.
“Friday was my last day.”
“Vada, that’s so exciting!”
“I turned in my badge. I gave away my desk plant, which was already dead, so really, that was a gift for legal reasons.” I took a sip of my drink. “And on the way out, the vending machine ate my credit.”
“It did not.”
“It absolutely did. One last act of war.” I shook my head. “I told it I hoped it choked. For old times’ sake, y’know?”
She squeezed my hand.
“And how does it feel?”
“Like I finally put down something heavy.” I leaned back in my chair. “I spent years making spreadsheets look nicer for people who never opened them. Now Tev sends me a brief that just says, ‘Make it cute,’ and I get to draw. That’s the job.”
“And,” Zhari said, picking up her drink, “you start remote next month.”
“Yes! Ahh, next month. From wherever I am, which could literally be anywhere in the galaxy! I can travel to so many cool places and still get paid.”
I looked down at our hands.
“This is the thing I was supposed to be doing. I know how that sounds—”
“It doesn't sound like anything. It’s true.”
“I used to keep my sketchbook half-hidden under a stack of reports like it was contraband.” I looked back up at her. “And now I get to do it with you. That’s the part I still can’t get my head around. I get the work and I get you.”
She was quiet for a moment. The glow of her aura brightened slightly around the collar of her sweater.
“I’m proud of you,” she said. “You know that.”
“You’ve mentioned it eleven or twelve times.”
“I’ll mention it again.” She leaned closer. “And now we have the whole summer. No tour. No arenas. No Sira scheduling my breathing.”
“The whole summer,” I repeated.
“Lyn left this morning. She’s staying with friends on the other side of Tessara. She sent me a photo of a lake with the caption, ‘drums,’ and no other information.”
“That tracks.”
“And Yuki leaves for Neptune in a few days.”
I sat up. “Neptune? For what?”
“The NebulaPets festival.” She said it flatly, like a woman who had been briefed on this against her will. “Apparently it’s enormous. Apparently there are panels. Apparently there’s a parade.”
“A parade?”
“He’s been talking about it for the past two weeks. There’s a limited-edition item involved. I stopped being able to follow it.”
“Okay, that’s actually huge. If Sidney gets a festival crown, I’m framing it.” I pointed at her. “Don’t tell him I said that. He’ll add me to the group chat.”
“You’re already in the group chat.”
“I’m already in the group chat,” I admitted.
She laughed.
“Still so cool,” I said, unable to hide my grin.
Zhari took another sip of her drink before setting it down and reaching for my hands again. I placed my cup on the table and gave them to her.
“Vada. I want to ask you something.”
My stomach flipped.
“Okay.”
“I’ve been looking at places,” she said. “Here in the city. Near the water district, on the quiet side, away from the arena.”
She swallowed.
“Not a hotel. Not a bus bunk. An actual place. And I don’t want to look at any of them unless you’re looking at them with me.”
I stared at her.
“Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“Yes. I’m asking you to get a place with me.” Her smile grew. “Both our names on it.”
“Yes!”
I said it loud enough that two people at the next table turned around.
“Yes,” I said again, quieter this time, laughing as I gripped both her hands. “Yes, obviously. I cannot wait to get off Earth.”
She smiled and leaned across the table, pressing my hands gently against her lips.
“There’s paperwork,” she warned.
“There’s always paperwork.”
“Intergalactic paperwork. Residency filing, sponsorship declaration, species registration. Four to six weeks, even when it’s expedited.”
“Fine. Hand me a stylus.”
“Which won’t be a problem,” she said, “because you work for Zhari Enterprises now, and we have an entire department that moves people across borders. Tev will handle it. He’ll be unbearable about it.”
“He’ll want to film the signing, I’m sure. Anything for content.” I sighed.
She lifted our joined hands and pressed another kiss to my knuckles.
“Home,” she said. “With you.”
“Home,” I agreed.
She let go long enough to reach for her drink, and I pulled the sketchbook toward me.
I flipped past the mascot, past the arena crowd, past a hundred half-finished versions of her face until I found a clean page.
I started with the floor.
Then the light beneath it.
Then her hands around the glass.
Then her.
“What are you drawing?” she asked.
“Us,” I said. “Obviously.”
As I started drawing, a burst of squealing carried across the Jelly Lounge, sharp enough to turn my head. I followed the sound, spotting them a few tables over.
“Oh my gosh,” a cute, green-colored woman squealed to her friend, her voice bubbling over. “Is that Zhari? The popstar Zhari?”
The one who’d spoken practically vibrated with excitement, her long, leaf-like hair spilling over her shoulders, shifting softly with every movement. Beside her, a taller, curvier woman leaned in, already grinning.
“That is her,” the friend said, grabbing her arm. “Azolla, go say something before I do it for you.”
They stood at the same time, clutching a crinkled takeaway bag between them.
I kept watching as her friend waved down a passing waitress. “Hey, could we borrow a pen? Please? It’s important.”
The waitress smiled and handed one over without question.
By the time they reached us, Azolla looked like she might burst.
“I’m so sorry to bother you Zhari,” she said, “I just—I love your music so much.”
Zhari’s face lit up. “Awh, thank you. That totally means a lot,” she bubbled.
“Can you sign this? It’s all I have.” Azolla held out the takeaway bag with both hands.
Zhari smiled and took it from Azolla. “I love this,” she said. “Honestly, this might be my favorite thing I’ve ever signed.”
She clicked the pen open, then glanced up at them, eyes soft.
“What are your names?”
“Azolla,” the green woman said quickly.
“And I’m Venus,” her friend added, nudging her with a grin.
Zhari nodded, smoothing the bag against the glass table. “Okay. Azolla and Venus.”
She leaned in, writing carefully, her expression soft with focus.
“To Azolla and Venus,” she murmured as she signed, “thank you for listening.”
She added a small flourish beneath her name before handing it back.
Azolla clutched the bag like it might float away. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, seriously,” Venus added, a little breathless now. “You just made her entire life.”
Zhari laughed softly. “Totally, I’m glad I could.”
After Azolla and Venus left, I looked back at Zhari and grinned.
“This is going to be a wonderful break. Maybe we can look close by for places?”
“Oh? Why close by?”
“Uhm, so we can come here whenever we want?” I laughed and reached out for her hands.
She laughed and gave my hands a squeeze.
For the first time since I’d stepped onto the shuttle at Earth’s terminal, the future didn’t feel like a blank hallway or a cliff edge.
It felt like a path.
Maybe it would be messy, and at times confusing. This was, after all, so new to me as a human.
But I knew that for once, I wasn’t walking it alone.