“There are a lot of ways you could describe Kim Kibum. Normal wouldn’t be one of them. He takes the word, flips it on its head and uses it as a platform to shine.”

-Lee Jinki

                First year second semester student at Intergalactic University 4E27 – colloquially known as IU 27 – Kibum was already a well-known figure on campus. He wasn’t the smartest or the toughest or the richest (or poorest) kid in the area. He wasn’t the most attractive – hard to compete with modified persons and literal morphs, though he was still a far cry from the opposite. No. His allure was far less concrete.

                He was one that belonged everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Black crowned head bowed over a digi-text or thrown back in a boisterous laugh at a dive bar in the heart of the city, he fit in because he said he did. Like a Moladhi charming everyone nearby or a Varium shifting features subtly to fit in better with a certain crowd, Kibum did the same. He was a flame among moths. Unfiltered, unabashed, shameless, he regularly made a spectacle of himself, drawing the attention of admirers and onlookers wherever he went. And yet, for all that he could belong to any group, he wasn’t a part of any group either. Not really.

                Just another recognizable face in the crowd. Everyone knew he lived in the dorms on campus. Knew he worked after classes late into the night. Knew he loved his mother and didn’t talk about his father; knew he was an only child; knew he wanted to leave the planet when he graduated; knew he loved to talk about himself…

                Only he didn’t. It was just the best way to get other people talking so he could learn about them instead. The best way to keep them from asking questions was to ask them first and listen well. “I went to Auggie’s yesterday. They had great pizza. Have you been? No? What about Renzo’s? Oh. I’ve never been to Beyond the Azure Belt. Yeah?” It worked with food, fashion, entertainment, studying… just about anything really.

                As far as he knew, it was the best way to keep people at arm’s length so they couldn’t get too close. The last thing he needed was someone entering his life just to leave it again.

                The thing about always keeping people away though, meant that you were also an easy target.

---

 

“Normal? I suppose that’s one way to describe Lee Jinki. If by normal you mean in that unassuming sincere way that makes you feel like you’ve been wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold day.”

-Kim Kibum

Second year, second semester student Jinki was equally well-known in IU 27, though for vastly different reasons. Inherently book smart, studious, and uncommonly good-natured, he could be considered one of the darlings of his year mates. With a disarming grin, bedhead messy brown hair, and an accommodating nature, he was easy to approach and generally happy to help.

                Coming from a family of five – three younger sisters and a baby brother, he was a literal magnet for lost or confused first years; a champion study group organizer – especially during midterms and finals; and a veteran university event attendee. No stranger to making a fool of himself to make others laugh and being a literal library of personal stories, he was a campfire on a cold night, beckoning wanderers to his light.

                It was common knowledge that he helped coach at his siblings’ schools with grav jumping and low grav gymnastics – a variation of the original Earth sport; was attending university on a merit scholarship; and wanted to work on a spaceship when he graduated, though he hadn’t decided his focus yet. By and large he had no enemies, unless you counted the occasional jealous friend or significant other. “I assure you. We only study together. I have no idea why they keep talking about me after our study sessions. Have you tried helping them with the subject? I can show you what we’re working on.”

                Even ‘enemies’ could become friends when nudged in the right direction. And he enjoyed the relationships he had. It was nice to be liked in general and especially for the help he gladly offered, but… it would have been even nicer to have that one person who was all his too though. And vice versa.

                If he was completely honest with himself, he could admit he was stretched thin at times, a perpetual fount of giving that he was afraid would someday run dry.

                The thing about not being able to say no even when you don’t say yes is… that silence is an answer and it may not be the right one.

---

 

“Given the usual people he tended to hang around, no one really saw that coming.”

-Anonymous Dancer at The Stars Align

                A dull headache pounded between his temples as Kibum casually exited the classroom for the midterm test in astrophysics. His university uniform was slightly askew and he tugged at it self-consciously before brushing at the fringe of his bangs tickling his eyelashes. A quick glance around showed the hallway was relatively empty as most students were still taking their tests or were otherwise absent but there was a servobot gliding down the metallic surface. He considered getting a drink from it but shook his head. After that test, he deserved something more official.

                With a quick stretch and a hand anchoring at the base of his neck to rub at tense muscles, he turned and strode for the spiral escalator that would take him to the ground floor where the general canteen was. He was dying for a coffee, even if it was the cheaper synthetic brand that most schools had because the original had gone extinct on Earth. Oh, it had been revived on Earth 2.0 but the pure stuff cost an arm and a leg for a fraction of the amount. Internally, he winced at the price and volume difference between the two and resigned himself to his affordable knockoff drink instead.

                Reward in hand, he contemplated staying in the mostly empty canteen and finishing it but wrinkled his nose at the idea. It would fill up before too long and right now, he much preferred the idea of peace and quiet before his next and final exam of the day: essentially Spaceships 101. He could study but he was quite ready for it and the library would make a fitting napping zone once he was finished with his drink.

                At least that was the plan anyway. He was having a nice little nap in a secluded corner of the overly windowed floor when he was abruptly awakened by the sensation of falling. Bang! “Ow…” he groaned, clenching his eyes tight as he reached back to rub at his bruised head. At least the floor here was carpeted.

                “Oh Kibum. Did you fall down?” a mockingly familiar voice tsked from above.

                Forcing one dark eye open, Kibum appraised a pair of second year humanoids – one Terran and one Moladhi. Huh. There were usually three of them. “Pretty sure that was you, Kieran,” he responded flatly, keeping his face relatively neutral. He had an inkling of what this might have been about.

                “Aw. Let me help you up,” Crawven crooned, the tone a spine-tingling mix of mocking assistance and playful taunting.

                “Thanks,” Kibum drawled as he braced himself against the table before turning his back against the wall and looking up at the pair. “I take it this isn’t a social call,” he sighed, lightly threading his fingers together while he positioned one foot behind the nearest leg of the table.

                Kieran took that opportunity to prop himself on the edge of the same table and look down with folded arms. “Word on the station is that you’re the one responsible for Boro’s temporary suspension.”

                Kibum laughed and shook his head, glancing around quickly as he did so. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he explained, looking back up to meet Kieran’s gaze. There were no other professors or servobots nearby. There might have been a student at another table on the other side of the data wall but the glimpse was too quick to see more.

                “So you have no idea about his biology test from his first year midterms being copied and sold to other first years in an act that runs the risk of expulsion if proven true?” Crawven asked, the manipulative tones of his voice plucking at Kibum’s resistant will.

                “Why would I know anything about it?” he wondered blankly, playing at a loss. “They’re all locked behind student numbers, passwords, and pins. It’s not like I’m his girlfriend or anything,” he added with a dismissive shrug as he shifted his right foot closer to him and slightly under the table this time.

                Both Kieran and Crawven narrowed their eyes as they leaned closer menacingly. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

                Kibum couldn’t quite help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. He leaned forward to rest his right elbow on the table, chin clasped lightly in his fingers. “Aren’t I?” he responded, one brow quirking tauntingly.

                “You-” they both started to sputter, hands reaching for him.

                Like a tightly wound spring, Kibum’s left hand shot out to press – really hard – against Crawven’s similarly affected groin, making the Moladhi squawk with a most undignified sound. Simultaneously, Kibum rose up from his seated squat, catching the edge of the table against his hip and raising it up enough to make Kieran flail in a vain attempt to keep himself from falling off. A waving hand smacked Kibum in the face when he took the opening between the pair and kicked off the wall to launch himself through the gap.

                Behind him, the table banged as it settled back into place and he bumped into the data wall, confused sounds erupting from the touch screen. Crawven recovered faster than Kibum thought he would and he grimaced when claw-like fingers scratched at his back. “Star shards,” he hissed, lurching forward and desperately sprinting around the corner. Movement in his periphery made him jerk in surprise but it was just another student with his head down walking immediately behind him. Strange… but not his concern and he turned to focus ahead again.

                A second later, a dull thud, two surprised cries and one loud clatter erupted in his wake. It was enough to make Kibum pause and look back once more. Crawven and the stranger were in a tangled mess on the floor, a digi-text lying next to them, and Kieran was coming around the corner of the data wall. “Watch it, Jinki!” the Terran snapped, torn between helping Crawven up or just giving chase.

                “Sorry!” the so-named Jinki apologized, holding his hands up in surrender as he apparently tried to stay out of any further trouble.

                It was all the distraction Kibum needed to turn and hightail it out of the library. He filed the name away for later, knowing it sounded familiar at least, but he had other worries right now. Including another exam to get to.

                Between finishing midterms and actively avoiding Crawven and Kieran, the accidental helper largely remained off Kibum’s radar. He had his suspicions and he did at least recall that Jinki was the name of one of the second years he’d heard about at the university, but it wasn’t like they had ever really interacted before. He tentatively put their encounter down as a freak occurrence and otherwise went about his week.

                At least it was easier to stay out of their way in the evenings though. It wasn’t that they never visited The Stars Align, but rather that they never recognized him when they were there.

 

                While he was normally pretty good at tumbling out of things, the encounter with Crawven left Jinki a bit more bruised than anticipated. He wasn’t entirely sure why the pair had been accosting the first year that day in the library, and perhaps they had good reason. It just didn’t sit right with him that it was two against one. Two second years at that.

                Fortunately, with his reputation, they were none the wiser that he’d intentionally walked between them as opposed to the accidental wandering he’d pretended with the digi-text in hand. Not that he could quite get the first year out of his mind. That side-eyed look was practically burned into his brain from the brief glimpse he’d caught of the other man. “Enough,” he grumbled, waving away the memory as another twinge in his back reminded him he was still recovering.

                Amidst the clamor of his siblings getting ready for breakfast, washing up, and otherwise preparing for the day, he turned his attention to handling them while his mother slept and his father worked the weekend shift at a tech scrap yard. Hajoon would be fine. At 16, she could get around the city without trouble and make her way to grav jumping practice at the local community center. Doyun would need help with her homework and at 13, she was just too young for her sister to want to help. 9-year-old Siwoo was head over heels for the low grav gymnastics practice that took place at the actual training center. And 7-year-old Daejung needed… motivation to not get stuck in the VR helmet all morning. It was hardly new tech but he could (and would) play for hours if you let him.

                By the time everyone was settled and delivered and otherwise helped, it was midafternoon and Jinki needed to start getting ready to meet a post grad who had contacted him when he signed up to be a volunteer in his biology research. The venue was certainly questionable but he was willing to give it a chance. Who knew? Maybe he’d be able to put it down on his record for future employment purposes or other opportunities.

                Upon arriving at The Stars Align, his hopeful optimism began to fade. This part of the city always looked bright due to the neon lights that never went out and the synthesized music beckoned potential visitors from every corner. Everything was legal and it was a respectable enough area, as far as he knew, but that didn’t stop the niggling doubt that started to blossom in his gut as he made his way inside the brightly illuminated building.

                Fast paced sultry music greeted his ears at the entrance, the sounds only growing louder as he made his way past the check-in point – 18 or older only. It was a club geared towards Terrans after all. The majority of patrons on the inside were Terran in appearance, though the odd Varium and Moladhi stood out in the midst. Surprisingly, a Dawbn seemed to be the music master, perched atop the spire upon which they watched the performances below.

                While Jinki was there to meet the researcher, his attention was immediately arrested by the three performers onstage. A Moladhi was the main dancer, flowing multihued ribbons of costume fluttering around as she twirled and flipped, a single pole her anchor amidst the lower gravity in her portion of the stage. It helped make her look like she was flying, since her brilliantly dyed plumage was decorative at best. And she was magnificent, dominating the show as intended, but her secondary dancers were nothing to sneeze at either.

                Closest to the door, a male dancer performed, scantily clad with a body chiseled to near perfection. He had no hair but his shorn head was adorned with metallic painted curlicues decorated with glittering gems that dazzled under the bright lights. Full gravity was obviously in effect by the way his muscles tensed and flexed when he maneuvered on and around the pole, but it seemed as if it barely touched him. On the far side, the third performer was resplendent in a different way, but partially hidden from view until Jinki could get closer. But having stood in the doorway staring for longer than he cared to admit, he figured it was time to start searching for his contact. Though how he was supposed to find him was beyond the second year…

                At least until someone found him instead. “Jinki?” a stranger asked as they slung an arm over his shoulder, a sure grin etched on the Terran’s face.

Dumbfounded, Jinki just blinked in response, brow furrowed in obvious confusion.

                “I’ll take that as a yes,” the stranger went on, laughing low in his throat.

                “Uh…” Jinki started to stammer out, raising one hand in quiet objection, but it mattered not. The larger man promptly steered him closer to the stage where two more individuals were sitting, a man and a woman, one across from the other.

                “You made it,” the man commented, waving them over and calling for a drink.

                “Oh, I’m-” Jinki tried to say, just fine with no drinking, but he was quickly pressed into the seat next to the woman who appeared speculatively pleased. Jinki nodded to her and then frowned as he focused on the seated man again, trying desperately to get a handle on the situation. “Mr. Sloan?” he queried, noting that the avatar image had looked nothing like this individual before him.

                “Huh? Oh yes. That’s me,” the man laughed with a grin that did nothing to assure his audience.

                And the first – or was it second, no third – red flag went up for Jinki. Technically the first was the avatar pic as opposed to actual face timing or holo-calling the person. The second was the establishment. “I’m sorry but you don’t look like a post graduate student,” he admitted, feeling safe enough in making that observation.

                “Ouch. And here I thought everyone said you weren’t judgmental,” Mr. Sloan sighed with a disappointed shake of his head. He couldn’t help but laugh though when Jinki mutely gestured towards the other man’s clothes and the general nature of the venue. “Right,” he chuckled once, looking down at the cleanly pressed folds of the white suit and red tie he was wearing.

                “I like him,” the woman seated next to Jinki purred, leaning close to trace his bangs away from his face with a long painted nail.

                “Uh, thank you, um… and you are?” he blinked, awkwardly leaning away to try and keep distance between them.

                “Mrs. Sloan,” she grinned, shifting her hand to place it on his thigh in a familiar manner.

                “Oh, I should really be going,” Jinki swallowed, trying to scoot away and remove Mrs. Sloan’s hand without actually grabbing it.

                “You’re probably wondering what kind of research I asked you here for,” Mr. Sloan commented while his gaze remained fixed on the stage. The male dancer and the third one had switched places and the latter was now immediately in front of them.

                “I’m good,” he commented, turning to try and get up before he saw the man from before standing directly in front of him blocking his path. Full on alarm bells clanged in his head but he felt boxed in and out of his depth.

                “You are. Which is part of why you’re here,” Mr. Sloan nodded thoughtfully.

                “Do you think this one’s a man or a woman? Or a synth?” Mrs. Sloan asked, distracting Jinki’s attention to look at the performer in front of them.

                “Huh?” he gasped, mouth going dry as he looked away from her to the stage. Now that they were in easy view, it was impossible to miss the fact they were beautiful. They were the only one wearing a teasingly revealing dress, flashes of skin showing through at every opportunity, but nothing revealing enough to determine whether they were male, female or other.

                “The third one is usually a mystery performer. So far, Almighty Key has done a very good job of keeping their real persona under wraps,” she giggled, fawning over the sharp-eyed performer, gold rimmed lids accenting the unnaturally blue irises.

                Despite the fact that they moved with enviable grace and had a wiry strength that belied their femininity, they seemed oddly familiar. At least at certain angles. The thickly applied makeup didn’t help either.

                “As I was saying,” Mr. Sloan commented, drawing both of their attention back to the conversation at hand. “You are a good person, Jinki. And good people can go anywhere and everywhere openly,” he smiled, the expression lacking in warmth. “And no one suspects the young.”

                Jinki’s hackles rose up at that comment and he sat up. “I don’t think I like where this is going.”

                “You have quite a few brothers and sisters at home, don’t you?” Mr. Sloan commented, returning his attention to the performer as if his words were casual and innocent. “It’s not like that many mouths to feed are that affordable, even on this Earth,” he scoffed, almost bored. “All I’m asking is that you help me… place information bots in auspicious places. I’ll even pay you for your… research,” he explained, grinning with the cold smile once again as he shifted his attention back to Jinki.

                He started to shake his head no but froze when the smile faded from Mr. Sloan’s face. It was not a pleasant expression.

                “Good. Right,” he tsked like he’d forgotten. “Well, if money won’t motivate you, there are other ways to convince people,” he added, gesturing at his wife.

                As if on cue, she slid closer, one hand landing on the front of his chest before it started to slide down. The walls began to close in on Jinki and panic bloomed in his gut. He needed to get out of here right now, but he didn’t know how. What were his parents going to think if they heard about this? What was he gonna do…?

                Despair rose up and stopped as soon as the music did. The lights went out and a hush fell over the entire room. A low whirring sound indicated something was happening and then three beams of light like rays from the heavens illuminated the performers as they came down from their platforms, hand in hand. At the ground floor, they split off from each other, theatrically searching for something. Playful music accompanied their antics as they mingled in the crowd.

                The Sloans were just as transfixed as Jinki was, watching the unusual spectacle as each performer found a ‘victim’ to take with them back to the stage. The man and the Moladhi found someone relatively quickly but Almighty Key kept searching, teasing and playing up the crowd for laughs. Jinki could hardly believe it when the light fell upon him and Mrs. Sloan as the performer leaned close, a heady floral scent washing over them as they did so. Mrs. Sloan allowed a soft sigh to escape as Almighty Key brushed the backs of their fingers against her cheek before running their hand down her arm, the same one on Jinki’s chest.

                Jinki was like stone as the graceful fingers curled around Mrs. Sloan’s hand and shifted it next to his own. His heart hammered in his chest when those same fingers brushed against his wrist next and gave a gentle tug without ever looking at him. Instead, Almighty Key winked at Mrs. Sloan with a playful smile and deftly tugged Jinki after them. Raucous cheers rose up as the third and final ‘victim’ was chosen while the music started up with renewed energy.

                Completely at a loss, Jinki didn’t know whether to be elated or petrified and it showed. Stiff as a stick in the mud, he flushed brilliantly when Almighty Key used him as a sort of pole to dance around. It barely registered that the other two people chosen were being treated similarly. For Jinki, it felt like some kind of test or punishment, meted out by the enigmatic and beguiling Almighty Key.

                He couldn’t have said how long the dance lasted. It could have been mere seconds and it could have been an eternity that he was rooted to that spot, frozen on stage while a veritable deity made him look plain and small in comparison. But true relief washed over him when he was ‘encouraged’ to take a bow with the others and then guided to the doors at the back of the stage. His companions were aglow with the high of their experiences as they stumbled into the darkened space at the back. The backstage worker that popped into sight, crystalline body sparkling enough to draw their attention, made them giddier than they already were and they immediately followed its direction of, “Main room that way.”

                That was the last place Jinki wanted to go though and he stood rooted in place until a tap on his shoulder made him look back. “Almight-”

                “Exit’s that way,” they murmured with a wink, the voice musically deep and utterly amused as they pointed to a spot in the darkness.

                And then they were gone, the door separating the stage from the back sliding into place quietly. In the quiet of the muted sounds and lights, Jinki finally exhaled and blinked hard, still not entirely sure what had happened. He jerked when someone tapped him on the thigh and made him look down.

                The backstage amethyst hued Dawbn was still there and pointed in the same direction that Almighty Key had. “Exit’s that way.”

                “Thanks,” Jinki breathed, waving at the shorter figure before he scurried towards the door – the handle of which was hidden in the dark and took a moment to open. It led to a simple hallway that would have otherwise been a tiny bit sketchy to Jinki but gift horses and all that, he was ready to be gone. The sealed door at the end opened with a blast of normal street sounds and tipsy voices and he had never been so happy to breathe in the artificially clean air of the city before.

                Freedom was all the incentive he needed to set foot towards home before fate or bad luck or whatever you wanted to call it stepped in again. He could figure out the rest later. Though… whoever Almighty Key was, he would probably have to thank them at some point.