I blinked fast and hard to try to banish the welling tears away. I didn’t want Alma to see them. Sure, I was happy she was happy, but the self-pity battered my insides like a hurricane. Why couldn’t she be happy with me?

With delicate movement, she lifts the gem from it’s padded case, lets the light from her dimly lit room dance on it’s surface. There’d been nothing she found more addictive than a diamond’s shimmer, a flawless reward only right for her quintessential work.

Around her neck, she felt, had been the only resting place right for such a sublime piece. Her intuition alone, is one trustworthy, and Iris hadn’t been alone in thinking so. Again, she was right, a trait so rarely found in others, yet one among her most prominent qualities. The blue gem seemed to glimmer noticeably more against almond skin, and one assessing her reflection, as she did, would conclude there’s few things more admirable.

Arrogant and conceited as she may seem, her presence was always welcomed. Iris’ proud nature somehow added to her charm and charisma, especially around the right people, and planted resentment extensively into that of jealous hearts, her own mother included. “Have you anything else even slightly comparable?”

Harris stood behind her, and set his palm on her hip, steadily sliding it to her waist. He brushed the lining of her jaw to her chin with his left hand, all as if she’d crack under the slightest pressure. He wanted nothing more, though wouldn’t admit it until he was guaranteed every dime.

“This is your best one yet, no?” He addresses her again, even though she hardly feels that way, his gaze never once leaving the accessory as he speaks. It’s laughable, how oblivious they are, to their own obvious mistakes, so easily blinded by the beauty of wealth in their attempts to deceive the con artist. She was amused, and never found another form of entertainment quite as fascinating.

Iris stops his fingers from reaching the diamond, pressing his hand against her chest. He takes a breath, not subtle enough to miss Iris, and finally locks eyes with her reflection. “You said you weren’t the type to be bothered with material wealth,” she reminded him of his earlier poor attempt at flattery, “That you value sincerity in a person, more than anything else.”

He wondered if it was worth playing genuine and caring, now that he’s where he wanted to be. To Iris, it didn’t matter, she knew him before he said a word to her, but without that knowledge he made the choice to stick to the facade for her sake. In the grand scheme of things, it only made him more pathetic, she doesn’t mind that one bit.

“It’s a beautiful piece, one increasingly difficult to ignore every second it’s on you.”

“Well then, I guess I can’t blame you.” She smiles, reaching to unclip the chain that held the diamond, careful to place it back in it’s case. “But no, not nearly the best. Speaking of, I’ll have Jorge meet with us this evening, make sure you’re caught up with next week’s agenda.”


 Authors Note: This is really just an attempt to force myself out of an extremely stubborn creative block. Not saying it won’t be good, just don’t keep your hopes too high (for anyone who happens to come across this).

[Taken from the fanfic I'm currently writing] • Characters are from the game "I Was a Teenage Exocolonist"; Tangent and Solana (Also referred as "you", because Sol is the character you play as)

/// /// /// (Age 17, early pollen night)

– I have feelings for you, Tangent, – Sol breathes out, not looking at her. You hear her shift, attention snapping as she processes your words.

– Are you confessing to me? Why? – Tangent's voice is strangely steady, less measured than Sol expected. There's an undercurrent of confusion, hesitance, uncertainty. She stays quiet for a moment, and you wonder if this time she's not interested, grossed out or just surprised. You don't really want to open your eyes and find out.

– I don't feel feelings... Not like that, – Tangent continues, her voice softer now, almost distant.

You keep quiet. Her voice, though getting quieter as well, seems to speed up. Is she mumbling? Or is the distance between them so vast, across every possible universe, that her words can't seem to find a way to bridge it?

– We can't… You can't expect a relationship to survive on just love, Sol. If I…If one of us does something wrong, and hurts the other, we would just part ways… Forever. Friends don't do that. Colleagues don't do that. Love, familiar or romantic bonds… Does it do anything good, except ruin everything when your interests start to differ? You just… You don't understand. You can't understand, not when you have a caring… – She suddenly trails off before finishing.

You do understand. Sol's chest tightens. She knows the outcome, and yet, it feels like the first time she's hearing it — it does every time. You've heard this rejection in every universe, but every time it still so hurtful. Solana smiles anyway, though it's a broken thing. And you say nothing. Just continue to smile — despite a suffocating beating in your chest that won't go away. You knew this would happen, but saying nothing feels even more wrong. You wonder is she feels hesitant about rejecting you. Her voice wavers:

– Sol, I… I just… Can't…

– I know romanticism isn't your thing, – Solana replies gently, sparing her the torture of voicing the shared thought. You hear her take an exhausted breath. You know Tangent is pretending. She always has. What a beautifully cruel actor. – And I already knew you wouldn't accept. I needed to tell you, that's all.

Silence falls again, and you wait, sensing something unsaid hanging between you. Almost as if she's waiting for something. Almost as if Tangent is waiting for Solana to say something she hasn't yet. You stay quiet. And this time, you are unsure whether it's because you've run out of words or because you're afraid to speak the wrong ones.

– We could… – Tangent tries again, her voice faltering in a way that makes it hurt more. – I know we are a good team. When… When we work together, it gives us a lot of benefits. We could…Make it official to everyone, announce out partnership? I would actually have a good enough reason for Marz to stop bothering me, and you could tell them you aren't looking for a relationship if someone asks you… It's not the same, but… It would stop everyone from getting involved between… Us

Her words feel like an offering and a trap at the same time. Sol recognizes the logic in them — the exact same thing you offered Tangent in other lives — but it's not what she wanted. Not what you wanted, too. Not by a long shot.

Tangent is offering an illusion, even if it feels like the closest she can get to saying, "I care."

– If you want to, that is… – Tangent adds, so softly you can barely hear it. Is it Solana's messed-up fantasy getting in a way of your clear vision, or does her voice actually tremble? Tangent doesn't clarify an "us", and for some reason, you think she doesn't know what she meant by that either.

– No. It's not what I want, Tangent, – You smile, but it's sadder than you intended it to be. A pained curve of your lips expressing the rarely shown emotion. You wonder if Tangent can see it — the way it tears you apart just to say this, knowing that you're both caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Except it seems like there's never "the right time" in this story.

It's not the answer Tangent was hoping for, but maybe it's the one she needs. The one Solana needs, or wants, as well.

If you pretend enough, you can believe that what you heard after these words was a pained sigh of disappointment.

– Just because nothing is official doesn't mean I'll leave you now, Tangent, – Sol opens her eyes, meeting Tangent's for the first time. She sits near you, hugging herself tightly, nails digging into the lab coat. Her gaze is fixed on the floor, as if she can't bring herself to face what's in Solana's eyes.

Tangent really does look disappointed; you think she does. It almost looks like she's in pain. A small part of Sol wonders if she's scared. Scared of losing this fragile thing they have. Scared of losing the person who keeps breaking the walls she's spent so many years building up. But was she really afraid of losing you? If that's true, it's heartbreakingly sweet. Sometimes you can't even comprehend how someone ever believe she is cold, or an emotionless monster. She does have empathy, of course she does — how can anyone doubt that? And she is grateful you still stick around, she told you about it herself, just a few days ago. On that midnight stroll across the colony walls.

– You don't have to be alone tonight. I can stay until you fall asleep, remember that movie Nomi tried to make you watch? I can retell the plot.

You hear a voiceless chuckle as her sad gaze travels to the forest beyond.

– Just, pleace… – She whispers, and it sounds so forced. So ainfully desperate, but masked with straining fear; like an attempt to step over herself. – Don't leave.

It feels like the world is on the edge of a dissapearence. Or breaking apart. You feel the tension in her shoulders, the way her body seems to collapse in on itself before she relaxes her grip on your wrist. But she doesn't fully let go.

Everything is always just on the edge of something.

You feel her shaking, but you say nothing. You don't need to. Just silently ask if she needs a hug — the one she accepts. She breathes out against your hair.

Before Solana falls sleep, your mind wanders back to her words. Your heart hurts itself to remember, but you can't let it forget something from your younger years.

"What I don't need is someone to pat me on the head and tell me it's okay and the adults will make it all better. I messed up, just let me fix it!"

And maybe, in this timeline, Sol can help Tangent fix it. If she can bear to stay long enough.

/// /// ///

He gave me some butter I gave him syrup But it didn’t stick When works aren’t good When people don’t always stay When things get tough They bolt to the door Without a warning or a reason So I tried to make his butter lasted But it wouldn’t Because syrup and butter aren’t friends tho he told me that he liked me but it came and went I slipped away from him and he’s pressed on being spiteful Just because syrup is sticky doesn’t mean it’s ain’t gonna expire Thanks to him I don’t care much about love or having someone in my obit because sooner or later they would always leave He’s the syrup and I’m the butter See the difference? We didn’t mix We weren’t compatible or even soulmates We were nothing but strangers and not even that

“you like Woody Allen?” he asked me

love him i said

“do you know what he did?!”

yes

“how could you like that monster?”

he makes good movies

“that is awful. do you listen to Kanye?”

yes

“Michael Jackson?”

king of pop

“so you only like criminals and predators.”

i like artists i said and ordered another beer

so you do not separate the artist from the art

“no.” he said “why should they get my money?”

because every chef is a scumbag yet you just ordered wings

“not the same”

because of fame?

“i guess”

artists need to be fucked up or they are fake artists

“not true”

name one i said

he named bad artists and worse comedians

i closed my tab and went home and watched a Roman Polanski film

“quite the craptastic sister” they say. mocking my mistake, joking with me.

joy lies in their eyes, glittering in the dim light.

they don’t see the pain they inflict. conceal. conceal. conceal.

“i’m disappointed” he said.

the conversation ended. i lightened the mood.

i’m fine. i’m fine. i’m fine.

“you don’t care enough to fix the heart you broke “

a song accuses me of exactly what i’ve done.

i hurt him bc i don’t love him back. bc i don’t know how to love him back. because i don’t care enough anymore.

pretend. pretend. pretend.

conceal you’re pain. “you’re fine”. pretend to be happy. pretend to be fine.

pretend. pretend. pretend.

“I’m getting married!” Julie burst, jumping up and down. She and her best friend Kevin had stopped by their life long favorite ice cream shop, Creamy Bliss, and she couldn’t keep the secret any longer. “Wait, what? Really?” Kevin asked, stunned. “Yeah, me and George! Can you believe it?” “Hardly! Congrats, Jules.” Kevin forced a smile, trying to be happy for the girl who meant everything to him. It was just hard, knowing now someone else was officially her everything. “Thanks, Kev. He just makes me feel so… so **happy **you know?” Julie sighed happily, licking at her Cherry Blossom ice cream. “Happy for you, Jules. Really. When’s the wedding?” “November 9th, the day we met! You’ll be there, right? We’re sending RSVPs in a week, but you’ll come? Please?” Julie pleaded, giving Kevin her best impression of puppy eyes. She needed her best friend with her on the biggest day of her life. “Duh! Of course, Julie. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kevin assured her. But all he could think of was the ring in his back pocket, begging for one more chance with his best friend, the girl who made him happier than all the ice cream at Creamy Bliss, the girl he would do anything for. Even let her go to follow her own romance story. At least she would get her happy ending.

Loss: The tunes of ABBA swirled my mind. I could feel my hands begin to tremble, and my palms wiped nervous sweat against my sleeves, gripping the fabric. The spotlight shined upon the three of us, standing on the stage. I couldn’t bring myself to look at my parents, somewhere in the crowd. Not that I could see them, anyways. The lights were too blinding to distinguish any face. I was half certain that my parents had left the awards hall too. The winner had already been unmasked. And that day, that winner was not me. “I’m sorry for being such a failure.” I thought to myself as I walked across the stage, my head hung in shame. The figure in a suit placed a lustrous silver medal around my neck. In that moment, I had wished perhaps for a shimmering bronze medal instead, as it at least bared some semblance to the gold in appearance. But looking back, I realise that the humility I would feel standing on the lowest podium to be too scarring for a lifetime of mine. Walking onto the podium, I felt a wave of embarrassment sweep over me. I just wanted to sink into the floor. Beside me, on the podium beside me, stood my rival, standing for gold. I watched him grin effortlessly and hold up his gold medal with a charm that captured the audience. “What about me?” I thought. “I lost to him by only one point. One point!”

Win: Clenching the gold medal in one hand, I smiled ahead. At last, my efforts had been fruitful. I had studied relentlessly for this competition. The national high school maths championship. I had hated maths a year ago. But this competition meant so much for me. The only academic subject offering a high amount of money for winning the competition. £5000. With that money, I could finally pay for my sick little brother’s treatment, and I could use that money to find a job to help my struggling parents. Maybe we’d even be able to turn the lights on once a week in the house for a time. I’d finally done something right. I helped my family. I made them proud. That was truly the greatest victory of them all.

Sean burst into the room, noticed that his girlfriend’s cat, Mark, was sleeping, and tiptoed over to the desk. As he reached out a cautious hand to pet the usually-grumpy cat, he whispered to Steffani, “Have you heard the news?” She nodded and continued to work on her calculus homework. “The new fishing store is gonna be awesome,” Sean enthused as he paced around the room, disturbing Mark. Steffani looked up and frowned slightly. “Yeah, okay, babe. I’m glad you’re finally going to have a fishing store in town so you can buy tackle without driving quite so far, but…” Sean had stopped dead in his tracks, and he turned to make eye contact with his girlfriend. “Oh, sorry.” He grimaced as he apologized, and Steffani offered a wry smile in return. She went back to solving question five on the homework, but soon startled Sean by slamming her hand down on the table. “Why do they have to turn the studio into a fishing store? Where am I going to work out? What’s going to happen to Mr. Murphy?” Sean rubbed his girlfriend’s shoulders soothingly, avoiding a dirty look from the overprotective feline. “I can get you a punching bag if you want.” Steffani sighed. “There are fishing stores in almost every town around here, but that was the only dojang for miles.” It was Sean’s turn to sigh. “What about a punching bag AND a mat?” She smiled. “Sounds like a deal, babe.”

"I hate it," she said.

At first, I wasn't sure what she was talking about.

"Hmmm?" I asked, looking up from my phone.

"I hate it."

"'Hate' is such a strong word."

"You like this?" She looked at me in disbelief as if I liked some horrendous cultural gaffe, like eating puppies or kicking older women in the backside.

"What are we talking about?"

"You never pay attention," she said. "You just don't pay attention to what we are discussing."

That was fair. When your partner suddenly engages in a rambling discourse while there is an entertaining video on TikTok, the partner is going to lose. Call me rude and a jerk. That is just the truth. But I tried to recover. "I can't see what you hate about it."

"It's all angular and boxy. Is it even a truck? And then there is Elon Musk..."

This did wonders for my comprehension. "I think Cybertrucks are interesting."

"You have to be kidding me. That ugly thing?"

I nodded. "So many things look alike; those at least look different."

"They look like an early idea for a Delorean. How can that be unique?"

"Don't knock it; you can travel through time in a Delorean."

"That's because they look lost in it."

She might be right. They did have that sense of "Outa Time." You could almost see the license plate spinning on the pavement, smoke emanating from it.