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commonalex · 6 years

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Venus 3000

Definitely not my day. Either it will be my phone not ringing, either the ship getting slow as fuck to the platform or even Emily as I see her (and she sees that I see her) right before I was skipping line from a mexican dude for a sandwich. And neither did I get a nod nor a sandwich. Fuck.

I don't know why I said hi, I surely wasn't at my best and she didn't look too ok with it. I could pretend to study these ugly backs of the seats in front of me or keep on looking at the Pacific from my window while she was passing to seat at the first class. Sure, I could. But I was itching to learn why and how she justs appears here and just sits along with the richie rich folk. If only this notification for email and this nervous air hostess nagging about turning off out devices didn't hold me back from asking her on the spot.

"A reminder.

Make sure to fix your attitude and send some content, some good content this time, or we'll have problems to solve. Patience only lasts that long.

Sam, Assistant Manager."

Ah, simple, straight to the point and obnoxious Sam-the-assistant-manager as always, which she thinks she rules the world now that every serious person took a week of for the summer and she's left behind. I don't quite blame her, but she was asking me to reportabout local brunch restaurants and sunscreens just for the ads, only to get me to fly to Venus because Tyler got sickand all that crap.

Venus is just a dusty volleyball from the window when we get awaken by the stuff. Dunno if that's a tradition or not, but the pilot seemed to think that it was a good idea to sing happy birthday to each passenger that had birthday during the three month flight. It really was a good idea since I barely forgot Emily's birthday. I get myself around the seatbelts and get right back to them after the air hostess gives me the side eye. I take a minute to think about this and I see that i'ts kinda tricky to just play friends with her, so I stick to my shit. I take a look at my seat personal notifications to see what I missed. My sister's cat my only casualty. Pretty good if you compare that to the others beside me crying their eyes out for their loved ones that turned out less alive than expected. I guess I got pretty lucky. For a bit.

Cause this yuppie next to me takes his chance at starting a conversation with me about his newborn grandchild and as I'm known to enjoy this type of junk I tolerate this quirky little video of his daughter giving birth feeling physically disturbed. So disturbed I look away constantly, till I catch Emily in tears going to the bathroom of the first class (which is right in front of our class). I get closer to ask her what's wrong, only to get a cold shoulder. And I don't know what fucked me up the most, her attitude or this cringy video being almost twenty minutes long and me not having enough balls to tell him to stop it.

The pilot and his amazing texan accent wish us a nice stay at the colonies, thanking us for using Venus 3000 (yeah, wow) while I try to shut my helmet until the 'click'. We get out around this orange fog with some beacons shining in rhythm from far away. The reception authorities takes each one of us by the hand like babies until we get used to the different pressure. I take off my helmet first and try to communicate with this nice lady that holds me like her nephew about the distance from the hotel. I'm tired as hell and ready to sleep to my death.

I wake up from another notification from Sam-the-assistant-manager, underlying her previous nice words and sending me the schedule that I have to follow. If I can manage my time right, I could even get a second to pee between all those events, interviews and tryouts to get some footage (since the colonies authorities, for a reason I didn't quite get, were too willing to look for photos or videos you took during your time here, something that makes me understand what really got Tyler sick). But I shouldn't complain. It's only ten days and I got through the first one.

I get down, take just three bits and flee asking the reception about the Virtual Plaza where my appointment with the summer deputy head of the souther colony waits for me. I take the train get blown away by the ride. This so goddamn blue sky with small orange scratches from the dome, those weird asymmetrical buildings, those huge statues and columns resting on a never ending grass field and this coast. Yeah, coast as like sea (well, it's a big realistic pool, but still). I'm legit shook like the other passengers inside the train.

Somewhat irritated but gentle enough to not show it that much, Stephen Wang welcomes me with his uptight gestures and slick but uncomfortable warm suit (the colonies are always quite hot and summery). He looks a bit cold and all, but I get around him easily. Asking for some pics and then some answers to standard questions that no one gets uncomfortable with (about how he got here, how he feels, what the hell are the americans trying to build in this place along with these weird security measures) except for his security beast that checks my camera for footage and carries Stephen back to his car.

I walk around Virtual Plaza and see several kids bouncing around, playing with the slightly tweaked gravity in front of their disgustingly rich parents. Next to them some plain tourists playing with their drinks (it's too early for that) and a whole group of other tourists walking to the beach. I follow them creepily (they are in their swimsuits and I'm full clothed with a camera around my neck, just so everyone can get a bit uncomfortable) to this (close to a mile wide) shore where I let water touch my naked feet. It takes time to grasp what I really touch and/or feel.

Tired as hell, I return to the hotel to eat for the noon, getting several Venus facts from the speakers (couldn't give less of a fuck about them, though). And there she is once again, Emily, standing at the bar looking absolutely gorgeous, wearing something that costs like three times my salary. I get noticed, I smile at her, she smiles back and I decide to get to her while a old and bald penguin dude takes her by her hand for a spin. Not really hungry after that. I'm walking to the elevator with her quietly closing in. I look at her by accidentand see the same bitterness in her eyes, just like then before the take off.

Sleeping is not so easy on Venus. They tried all they could to simulate earth-like conditions (like day and night scheduling etc.), but that can't stop my biological clock from going nuts. So I fill my nights by looking at old convos with Emily as I deliberately avoiding her for the rest of the day. As for the work stuff, I managed to convince Sam that the communication delays are a pain in the ass and I can't send daily reports to get away with them. Sometimes I go for long night time walks, but those irish students looking for trouble and those faux cops that caught me filming the artificial forest the other day restrict me from enjoying anything but my room's satellite tv.

Days get so dry, dull and empty, too. When I don't have to ask the exact same things to weird army guys and Elon Musk wannabees, I need to listen at tiring speeches that all end up in how advanced and cool and hip this test is not only for humanity, but every form of life back to Earth. From top notch scientists and disgustingly rich white people to stupid youtubers and Robbie Williams (not kidding), all those people came exclusively to praise this initiative of the western world that officially puts the tombstone on the soviets after nearly ninety years of competition (not that it was that hard in the first place).

It only took a couple walks for me to see what those colonies had to offer me. All of those bright white columns, weird looking hotels and disturbingly tall palm trees just seem unpolished and lazy to me. Sand's just grated rocks, the sea smells like a chemistry lab, the food is processed to death and even the temperature gets a bit weird sometimes. The colonies are nothing more than huge hotel facilities, sprawling sparsely over a small island that floats in a large swimming pool. I'm fed up hearing about the hope of the future that starts herewhen I see old, pale fucks keeping on eating foie gras and using oil. This whole project is an ad that targets only the Kylie Jenners of this world that have a daily life of eating, sleeping and swimming in cash.

Sam-the-assistant-manager sure begs for these kind of reviews, but I'm risking my head for her. I only send her a draft without a slump of criticism, because I don't want any of those faux cops fucking with me just for writing bad things for them.

Three days before my flight, Stephen Wang drags me with his nerdy hands for another tour around the colonies. Oh look, art exhibitions, dance festivals, Robbie Williams (I needed this second time to make sure it was really him), even a luxurious cruise with a boat that smells just like burnt plastic. All slapping newand moderninside their names. All getting more and more random in my eyes. Wang clearly sees my disappointment and becomes troubled. He asks me if everything's fine, I respond with yeap, why notand not one second later I just leave my breakfast inches from the stern of the boat. So many days I spent here, and I only got to succeed in making a successful thirty year old career man lose his shit and getting nauseous from a pool. A fucking swimming pool.

Two days before my flight, my article looks like it's never gonna make it, especially with Sam's moaning about me giving away my hidden footage to Wang as an act of goodwill to the poor guy. I could finish the article regardless, but my mind starts to fade away. I spend more time looking at the forest from the window of my room than typing. It's already dark when a knock on the door kills my boredom. Emily knows me well enough to put aside my difficulty at finding something to say, dragging me to the beach with this cute rudeness that only she can pull off.

-You can be really mean if you want to

What can you say to her when she's one hundred percent right? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

-It's really hard for me to deal with your presence anymore, Emily. Try to understand me.

-Still, I don't deserve this kind of behavior;

-I know. And as far as you should know, I'm glad I found you here

-Really?

Really. But...

-But I don't quite prefer I found you here. It's not good for me to see you after all this times. I don't know how I could make this sound less douchey, but it is what it is.

I'm holding her hand to make her stay. She tries really hard not to hit me.

-You're making it so damn hard to trust you, you know that? I know you for so long and I still can't figure out if you crack jokes or turn serious.

I have a really hard time figuring this out myself, as well.

-I'm serious. It bugs me to act like nothing happened and this bald fuck touching you doesn't make it easier for me.

-You didn't seem to have this problem before, right? Let me remind you that it was you that didn't want to commit. What changed?

-Nothing

-You want it your way, as always

-Just like you, right? Only difference I have to wait for you to decide what exactly you want from me

-You're so bitter

-I'm in love

I can't stand fighting with her. She can't stand fighting with me. That's why we slow down a bit. We get cautious at our words now, we're testing each other's defences to avoid getting hurt.

-John passed away

-I'm really sor-

-No. No you are not. It's ok I guess, but I spent so much time with him and it got to me pretty hard

-You are wrong, I'm not that petty

-I was hunting you down for so many days to talk to you. You were hiding from me

It's difficult to make myself look more stupid.

-How you got here?

-John's health went south and he didn't want me to see him like this. It was something like a last gift from him.

-So you got this penguin to comfort you

-Please. Please don't make me regret my decision to talk to you. Please. I needed you in my life so damn much

I hate her for doing this. Not because she does it deliberately, but because it works. Most of the time.

-I think we have to stop having any type of contact, Emily. We can't do this anymore, can we?

I believe in what I say, I know I do, but it feels wrong actually saying, if that makes sense.

-You can't make it so damn easy to me. You just can't

-What do you mean?

-I do not intend to come back. I'm gonna stay here. Not coming back, like at all. You understand?

Oh I understand all right.

Just one day before my flight, I'm buried by the bed sheets and Emily. She plays with my hair and I lock myself on her as the purple dome turns to morning blue. Everything seems so right and wrong. Only this time there's no husband getting between us, just me feeling read to fall right off the window.

-Do not forget me, ok? I know I wont

And that's my soul being smashed to million pieces.

I greet her being super dazed, no idea why. My mouth is dry from the stress, the joy, the exhaustion and I can't help but puke inside the (empty, luckily) elevator. I'm sick, like legit sick. So sick that I lock myself back to my room ust to cry for god knows how long, only to get stopped by Sam. Where's the article, up your ass you fucking moron. I only got ten hours to get my head straight and there's no time for your dumb shit.

It is the same old lady who took me by the hand on my arrival that awaits with a big smile. I try to smile back but my lips are not responding. I could swear she almost pushes me to the plane, before I catch myself dragging my steps like a child. I get my helmet off to let me guilts breathe, trying to figure out how big I fucked up, how much of a coward I am for running away or how dumb I was for thinking about staying for her.

My condition's only getting worse. My ears are ringing as the passengers are sitting around me. They are somehow trapping me and I try to squeeze my eyelids until everything gets blurred so I can't understand much of what's going on and my plan's working pretty well until this australian chick shouts at the air hostess because I give her the creeps. I get up and get to the bathroom. I splash my face, look at my reflection, get disgusted, vomit and get out even more dazed than before.

A couple hundred of old ladies are staring at me with their either frighten eyes, waiting to see just where will I collapse. Unfortunately for them, Emily picks me up and sits me back down. Emily. Emily got a ticket and leaves. She leaves. She changed her mind and she leaves. With me.

-Be careful now, You all right?

-Emily, I think I love y-

-What?

Her face freezes, like I said something wrong to her. Her cheeks lose all of their color, those markings on her neck disappear, her long hair get more and more grey. I'm panicking, what the fuck is going on? Why is she like that? What did I do?

Nothing. I did nothing. It took a minute to get back to normal but here I am, stuck in my seat before sleeping, feeling the need to dig a hole on the floor and jump inside. Because it wasn't her.

It wasn't her.

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