When your childhood isn’t normal the people you look up to aren’t either. For Pluto Chambers it was Lovely Moore; despite the commonality of strange, uncommon names like Pluto and Lovely in The Garden, Pluto couldn’t help but feel Lovely’s name was particularly fitting for her.

Long ginger hair, and a face splattered with orange-brown freckles and angry brown eyes. Always so angry. Justifiably, of course. Adam said she needed to be taught to let go of all that anger inside her if she wanted to ever be as lovely as her name. Her hands always bruised from penance, a stark contrast to their white gowns.

Lovely had not adjusted well to The Garden, perhaps she had a small part in the recesses of her mind which remembered a better world, not for her necessarily, but just the existence of one. Lovely’s father had ventured out to bring back new blood for a bride and found one in her mother, a frail weak willed widower.

Pluto still remembered his mother and father being so pleased that a girl only a few years older would be joining The Garden and would help “even out the numbers” there had been some worries some new babies eyes or such. He tried not to think to hard about it.

“Did you want that iced?”

Pluto was snapped back to the teenager in front of him with the bored expression on her face confirming that he did, in fact want his vanilla latte iced. Throughout the transaction his eyes couldn’t help but wander over to her coworker, a tall young woman with short ginger hair and a bevy of doves tattooed down her arms, designed in a way that it looked like they were going to all take a great leap from her hands. But he couldn’t forget Lovely’s eyes. They were void of that anger that was so iconic to her, but they were the same shape and same pretty brown.

Normally Pluto would take the time to sit in the corner and people watch. Study their mannerisms and critique his own. Compare. See what cracks he could fill, make sure no one can see the strange background in his movements . But today he cannot help but watch the fun house mirror image of Lovely .

“For Pluto.” the teenager with the bored expression at the front counter, showed only the slightest change in emotion, perhaps mocking, at his strange name when he had given it; but Lovely ,or, the young woman he was very nearly sure was her , reacted immediately. Turning to him fully there was no mistaking her now.

“Lovely Moore…”

The same placement of the freckles he had mesmerized and traced on warm summer days. The same slight overbite and charming smile. Looking down Pluto hadn’t realized one change in first glance.

Following his gaze to her chest the ginger haired girl let out a loud laugh, sounding almost embarrassed. She put out her had almost as if to introduce herself,

“It’s Jupiter now, actually.”

Pluto shook her hand, charmed.