1. CHAPTER ONE #2
MOM: You need to eat more than just one apple, Vada. When are you visiting? Your father and I miss your face. Timothy has been running around the house for three hours trying to catch a fly. It’s hilarious.
Timothy was my parents’ cat. He was a tubby little tabby who was gray and super cute.
ME: I will visit soon. I have to go.
That was an absolute lie. I hadn’t been home in a year, and I had to say, my mental health was so much better. I loved my parents, but they could never mind their business and had something to say about everything.
My thumb hovered over the voice-call icon.
I imagined the conversation and what I would say to them.
Hey, quick update. I’m thinking of taking most of the money you’re relieved I finally have and spending it on a ticket to watch an alien woman sing on a planet.
Also, I’d be going alone because I still haven’t made any friends outside of work aside from Thomas.
Oh why can’t Thomas come? Because he only listens to rock and roll.
My mother’s silence alone would have been enough to snap the idea in half. But I was sure she would follow that up, after an hour of stewing over it, with one hundred back-to-back messages.
I locked my wrist comm screen instead and slipped the band under my sleeve, like I could hide their expectations from the rest of me. The battery showed 10 percent remaining, and I wasn’t about to use the rest of it going back and forth with my mom.
I got to my complex’s doors and buzzed myself in. I climbed a few flights of stairs to get the rest of my steps in and unlocked Door 4B. My flat greeted me with its usual warmth and peeling paint. I dropped my bag, kicked my shoes into the corner, and made my way to my bedroom.
“It sure does feel nice to be home,” I said. I tore off my work clothes and collapsed onto the floor in front of the low table I used as a desk, wearing nothing but my undies.
Sketchbooks sprawled across the top of the table like an explosion.
Zhari’s face was drawn from a dozen different angles, along with outfits from different tour eras and imagined stage sets for songs that didn’t exist. On one page, I’d drawn Earth from orbit, with a stick figure labeled as me waving out of a shuttle window.
I picked up one of my many sketchbooks and flipped to a fresh page. I grabbed my favorite pink glitter gel pen from the pile on the floor next to me.
“If I can’t afford the ticket,” I told the empty room, “I can at least draw myself there.”
But my hand didn’t move the pen. Instead, it dropped it and reached for my tiny blue laptop.
I turned it on and went right to the shuttle website again.
The booking process was stupidly simple for something that involved leaving the planet for another one.
Pick your destination, confirm you understood that the company wasn’t liable if the universe ate you, and choose a seat.
It felt like booking a train to Edinburgh, except the destination was several star systems away and the snack trolley probably served some things I couldn’t pronounce.
The tickets were a bit pricey, but I could technically swing it. But then I had to buy the shuttle ticket and pay for an overnight stay. It all started to add up, which had me second-guessing buying the tickets again.
Then a soft chime came through, followed by a pop-up box offering a concert package.
“What’s this?” I mumbled to myself.
A discounted shuttle and concert ticket, if I booked within the next ten hours. The banner flashed the same clip from earlier, featuring Zhari’s mouth open around a note, her eyes half-closed, and her glitter extensions throwing light speckles around.
Stars. Was today my lucky day? This package was definitely more affordable than the concert ticket alone. I mean, it would be stupid to spend that many credits on a concert package. But it was a concert on another planet. So, it made it kind of worth it.
If my mother ever found out I was skipping off to another planet to dance to pop songs by myself, she’d probably shit herself to death.
I closed the laptop like that might muffle her voice in my head.
“You’re almost thirty,” I told myself. “You process spreadsheets for a living. You have exactly one plant, and it’s fake.
No other ties holding you down. You’re also allowed to have crazy adventures before your joints start making weather predictions.
You’re allowed to do whatever the hell you want. ”
I flipped the laptop back open and looked at my bank balance in the top navigation bar.
“If it goes wrong,” I said, “it’s a story. If it goes right… it’s still a story, but I don’t lose out on a potential fun time.”
I leaned back against my bed, my mind drifting to Lumara as I’d glimpsed it in Zhari’s interviews.
The city always looked bright and pastel in those clips, with her laughing in front of candy-colored high-rises while flying shuttles wove between them overhead.
She’d panned once to the holographic buses gliding past, their sides shifting slowly through purples and blues.
I bet the arena would be massive, filled with bright lights, neon colors, and glitter. Their planet was just so dreamy.
I hit confirm and watched eight hundred credits disappear from my account. The confirmation code lit up at me in a glowing blue light.
“Congratulations,” a voice chirped through the speakers. “You are booked for Lumara City, Vela.”
I lay back on the floor and stared at the ceiling, where I’d stuck glow-in-the-dark stickers years ago. They looked sad in daylight, though, peeling a little at the edges.
“You did it,” I whispered. “You’re going on an adventure to see your favorite girly-pop, and you’re traveling solo!”
The words left me on a shaky exhale as my mouth curled into a helpless, disbelieving smile. A ridiculous noise burst out of me, and I punched the air like I’d just won the galaxy’s dumbest lottery.
The family group chat pinged again, which was a suspicious coincidence.
MOM: Are you coming home for the holidays this year? Flights are cheaper if you book early.
ME: Ah, I don’t think so. It’s a busy season at work. Carla’s up my ass about all these deadlines. Love you all.
Three dots appeared and then quickly disappeared. After a few moments of staring at my wrist comm, my mother’s text popped up.
MOM: We’re proud of you, honey. We just miss you a lot. Having a stable job is good. Maybe if you found someone, they could help take the load off. Your father and I love you.
Ugh, things always circled back to Vada, you really need a partner. Vada, you need this, or you need that.
ME: Love you too. I have to go.
I swiped the conversation away and took off my comm.
I leaned over to the wall to plug it in, fidgeting through the ball of wires I didn’t care to untangle.
Then I climbed onto my bed and under my duvet.
I didn’t even think about dinner or how tired I was from work.
All I wanted to do was lie there and daydream about my new adventure.