“He puts on a brave face and acts like everything’s fine but at heart, he’s still a child.”

-Passeri (Moladhi performer at The Stars Align)

 

              In the wee hours of the morning with an empty room and just his typical two coworkers shuffling around the space, Kibum felt the weight of his shift finally sink in. “Ugh! These new boots are killing me,” he groaned as he laid out on one of the empty sofas in the quiet interior of The Stars Align. It was a vastly different environment when none of the guests were there and the music fell silent.

                “Get up! No rest for the wicked,” Jackson tsked with an amused shake of his head as he sauntered by and tossed a nanoweave cloth at him. He’d put on more standard clothes but hadn’t removed the glitter and glam on his head yet. Probably wouldn’t until he got home really.

                “I don’t wanna,” Kibum whined, lifting one bare leg through the slit of his dress and glaring at the end of the booted limb in childish offense. Cleaning up was always the hardest part of this gig. Not that it was a difficult task but rather that he really didn’t want to. He had nothing against cleaning – was a bit of a clean freak himself at home, but the whole “appreciating the other side of the job” seemed a bit much some days. Especially since it wasn’t really needed and they all knew it.

                Passeri took that opportunity to swing around and plop herself on his stomach none too gently, her short beaklike mouth curled at the corners in as much of a smile as she could muster. “Then tell me more about this stranger who’s come by, not just twice, but three times now,” she crooned while tapping him on the nose with a finger that was covered in short grey feathers. They resembled fur more than anything but a closer look would reveal their true form.

                Kibum coughed once from the initial impact – off-world Moladhi were heavier than they looked – and then rolled his eyes before grabbing at the nanoweave cloth as if he could escape. When Passeri made no effort to move and even Jackson returned to lean over the back of the sofa looking down at him, he exhaled in annoyed disgust. “He’s nobody. I told you.”

                “No,” the Moladhi snorted, crossing her arms and leaning back to further settle herself in place. “The trio of ragamuffins who come in from time to time that you can’t stand are nothing.”

                “This nothing you actually called a ‘jaunt’ for,” Jackson reminded him with a sly grin before he hid it behind his hands. The smile was just as obvious in his earth brown eyes though.

                “Don’t we have cleaning to do?” Kibum grumbled, waving his cloth almost like a flag of surrender.

                “Now he wants to clean,” Passeri laughed, her delighted trill echoing in the empty space.

                “I guess that means we can go home then,” the Terran male teased, shifting one hand to brush at Kibum’s black bangs playfully. “Ixo’s gone home for the night and Garum’s already turned in so…”

                “I don’t like you,” Kibum huffed, glaring at the other man with his famously sharp eyes.

                “Drama queen,” Passeri giggled with a loud slap on his thigh.

                “Ow!” her target yelped, playing up the name. It sounded like it hurt far more than it did.

                His companions both scoffed in bemused disgust and got up with dismissive waves of their hands. They knew if Kibum really didn’t want to talk yet, he wasn’t going to, no matter how much they teased and cajoled otherwise. “You get that side and I’ll take the bar,” she encouraged, patting Jackson on the shoulder and pointing him towards the entrance.

                “Yes my lady,” Jackson saluted, a goofy grin in place before he skipped away. Passeri preened after the comment and then calmly headed towards her area.

                Finally alone again, Kibum sat up slowly and took a breath, gripping the cloth in his hand thoughtfully. Jinki had shown up again today – the third time since Kibum had rescued him in as many weeks. According to Passeri anyway. The first two times, Kibum hadn’t been working so he’d missed him. He hadn’t been coming for any shady deals, so it was obvious he was coming for the show. Kibum was relatively sure he was trying to figure out just who he – Almighty Key – was.

               The second year didn’t stay long, his head otherwise on a swivel as he kept looking around to make sure the Sloans weren’t present, but it might have also been because he’d noticed Kieran, Crawven, and Boro there one of the evenings. Both groups were relative regulars, the latter more so lately, but the Sloans had been coming for a long time. At least according to Jackson anyway. They weren’t good people but they were far from the worst. Information brokers was a nice way of describing them. They liked easy marks – see nice guys like Jinki – they could blackmail with incriminating photos or intimidate into helping them harvest data in inconspicuous places. Ironically, they would pay for services rendered, so they could at least justify it wasn’t outright extortion, but once they had you, it wasn’t so easy to escape.

                With a heavy sigh and a dismissive brush at his red dress – the cut modest in the body but revealing everywhere else, Kibum stood up and started making the rounds. The nanoweave cloth was spectacular at cleaning up absolutely anything and wiping down the surfaces to sanitize and sterilize at the same time. Garum was nothing if not a stickler for cleanliness, though he did have cleaning staff that did the rounds periodically throughout the evening. The Varium owned establishment might not have been the highest-class place, but it was affordable and impeccable in every respect that mattered. No doubt that was part of the reason Jinki had even allowed himself to come in the first place. Had it been a shady disreputable location, he might well have thought better of coming the first time.

               Kibum kept expecting him to figure out who he was, but so far, nothing. Which was both gratifying and irritating. He’d even spoken to him after the jaunt. He never spoke to guests… His sigh wasn’t as quiet as he meant for it to be and he felt Jackson and Passeri’s attention shift to him. While he didn’t want to talk about Jinki, he could at least give them info on the others. “The ragamuffins have been coming more often lately because Boro’s girlfriend got expelled, he got suspended, and then they broke up so Kieran and Crawven have been trying to help him get over it.”

                Jackson barked a laugh and Passeri commented, “I’m betting you might have had something to do with that.”

                “Maybe,” he admitted with a quick shrug of his shoulders, recalling the first time he’d officially noticed Jinki. Okay, so he’d seen him around campus before and had heard of him in some of his circles but hadn’t had cause to actually see him until the library event.

                “This kid,” Jackson chuckled, gesturing at him with his thumb and rolling his eyes. Kibum mutely offered an eye roll of his own and continued cleaning.

                “I have always found it fascinating how Terrans have such varied peoples but act fairly similarly in many situations,” Passeri murmured, her voice carrying easily over the bar she was currently wiping down.

                “Don’t lump us together,” “Don’t put us in the same group,” Kibum and Jackson denied at the same time, laughing together after they did. Passeri wore a smug smile while she gestured between them with one elegant hand. “It’s not like I tell anybody what to do,” Kibum defended himself, shrugging with one arm while the other ran the cloth over another stool and table.

                “I swear. If you weren’t obviously a Terran, I’d say you were supposed to be a Moladhi,” Jackson snorted, wiping down the entryway frame with a quick flourish.

                This time it was Passeri that scoffed. “Hardly. He’s much too honest,” she laughed, sashaying around the bar and moving in his general direction.

                “Right. Our dear Almighty Key never lies,” Jackson said, an amused gleam in his eyes.

                “What is this? Pick on Kibum night?” he grumbled, taking a breath before finishing up his section. Passeri and Jackson exchanged looks, laughter dancing in their eyes, but didn’t say anything else. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with selective truth telling and the power of suggestion,” he added with a stiff finger pointing between them.

                Passeri held her hands up in surrender at that and then gestured at herself. “Moladhi here. I breathe the power of suggestion,” she crooned, her voice changing several tones and a couple octaves as she reminded them of her vocal prowess.

                Kibum managed to mostly control the impulse she was playing on but Jackson’s reactive shiver was semi-involuntary. “Show off,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose playfully in her direction.

                She rolled her eyes and retorted, “You are a walking monument to the idea of showing off.” Her amber eyes traveled the length of him meaningfully and he flexed in response. Passeri giggled and acted coy.

                Kibum’s shoulders dropped and he exhaled with narrowed eyes. “Get a room.”

                Playful smiles turned to him at the same time. “And leave you to go home by your lonesome?” The Moladhi’s tone was teasing but the words were genuine.

                The tips of Kibum’s ears flushed and he frowned with a wrinkled nose in response. “I can get home fine by myself,” he muttered, lightly wringing the nanoweave cloth between his hands.

                “Ayah,” Jackson tsked, sliding over to sling an arm over Kibum’s shoulders. He was slightly shorter than the older man so it always had a big brother effect. “We are more than aware you are capable of taking care of yourself.” He poked the younger Terran’s cheek for fun and Kibum ducked the side of his face against his shoulder with a complaining sound. “Now do you want the company or not?” Jackson asked directly, fighting not to laugh out loud at the arguably cute display.

                Kibum didn’t say anything in response, which was answer enough for them. “Alright then,” Passeri murmured, ruffling Kibum’s hair with long slender fingers before she reached down to grab the cloth from his hands. Standing next to him, she was a head taller than him – making her stand over Jackson too, but it only added to the motherly air she donned in that moment. “Go get your stuff. We’ll wait for you,” she encouraged, giving him a gentle nudge to get him moving.

                The younger Terran left without a word. He slipped into the back, swapped out his performance clothes for his daywear, donned his typical hat and then threw on his face mask for good measure. Part of keeping up the appeal of his performance was maintaining his anonymity so such things were a must for him.

                When he returned, Passeri and Jackson were having a casual conversation near the front. Kibum was slightly jealous of just how comfortable they were with each other. But their attention shifted when he got close and Passeri took him under her arm to guide him to the third entrance of the establishment: the roof had a special transportation system for late night workers especially. By and large the dome cities were safe but it was comforting knowing that was one less thing to worry about on their way to the hover hubs.

                With Kibum sandwiched between them, they pushed the call button and waited for a hovercab to arrive. In the brief delay, they looked out over the city together, pointing at the faint stars above. Light pollution and the surface of the dome made them difficult to see, but if you squinted enough, the twinkling lights could be seen in the heavens, so close and yet so far away. “One day, I’ll see them for myself,” Kibum whispered, the words so soft they could have been a prayer or a promise.

                “The Captain of some ship?” Jackson inquired, trying to see what Kibum saw.

                “Like I’d be anything else?” he scoffed in response.

                “One day indeed,” the Moladhi agreed, gently propping her short chin on the top of his head.

                “Passeri…” Kibum groaned good-naturedly. They knew it was for show though. He never asked for the attention but neither did he try to move or push her away.

                “Cab’s comin,” Jackson announced, waving politely as it stopped. He held the door open for the other two before they all clambered in, the Moladhi in the middle since she was the tallest. They typed in the address on the pop up holoscreen, added the credits passcode for The Stars Align, and the AI took them away without a word.

                Conversation was light and comfortable on the ride. Jackson and Passeri carried most of it while Kibum looked out the window and observed the city that glowed all around them. Though he didn’t speak as much, he silently enjoyed the warm contact of the Moladhi next to him. Her hand loosely covered his in the cradle of the space between their pressed thighs. The gesture was reassuring more than anything. A silent ‘I’m here and I’ve got you’ inherent in the contact.

                When they reached the hover hub, they all filed out and headed for the individual pods first. Since he’d started working there and they’d started escorting him, it was tradition for them to see Kibum off seeing as they would take another hover bus to the next hub and then separate from there. “Tell your mother we said hi,” Passeri smiled, patting him on the head once in an equally motherly gesture.

                “And see you for your next shift,” Jackson winked, stuffing his hands in his pockets with a bright grin. “Oh! And let us know if anything happens with your nobody,” he teased before dancing backwards as Kibum moved like he was going to hit him.

                “I’ll let you know alright,” he scowled, though the expression lasted all of two seconds before he broke into a laugh himself. “Get out of here,” he snorted, shooing them both away and then waving as he watched them head for the hover tram platform. As for him, he stepped into the elevator looking doorway, typed in his address on the pop up holoscreen accompanied with his personal credits passcode, and then sat down on the automated fold out seat for the ride home. Larger more well-funded cities had teleportation hubs, but a relatively new planet like theirs had hover tech. Public transport moved through the air while personal transports like the one he was on now took a below the city platform approach.

                Tunnels mirroring streets led to specific areas, making it easier for the individuals to head home when they lived further on the outskirts of the city. Most public hover cabs remained in the heart of the city where paying citizens could more easily be found. They were more expensive after all. But faster if he was being honest. Kibum stifled a yawn as he waited for the hover pod to get him to his general location. When he arrived, he stepped out of the elevator like entrance into the well-lit platform, tugged at the rim of his cap and then hunched his shoulders as he made the final leg of his trip home.

                He told everyone at school he lived in the dorms but that wasn’t true anymore. He had when he first got in, but he was denied financial assistance from the university and the government – due to ‘insufficient academic prowess’ and ‘attendance concerns’ - so had to give it up. He simply hadn’t corrected them of the change since then. He’d be eligible for review at the end of his first year but until then…

                It wasn’t a long walk, maybe two and a half blocks, but leaving the platform sent him into a far more shadowed area that always had him on high alert. Again, crime was not rampant and even in these shady parts of the city, it was relatively safe, but he didn’t feel like taking chances. His building was a collection of tiny apartments that nestled amidst other similar buildings. They all looked cookie cutter but it was home and he felt infinitely more comfortable heading inside to greet the AI at the front desk. “Evening Sunny,” he called as he removed his mask.

                “Welcome back, Mr. Kim,” the female voice responded warmly, an emoticon face popping up on the holoscreen instead of her usual humanoid appearance. It wasn’t even an emoji this time.

                Kibum frowned and paused. “I told you to call me Kibum,” he reminded her.

                “I know, but company policy dictates I treat all residents with commensurate respect,” was the standard response.

                “Yeah, yeah,” Kibum sighed with a roll of his eyes. It made him feel old and reminded him too much of his father… “Your visual appearance processor on the fritz again?” he asked aloud before moving closer as he forced his attention to the issue in front of him.

                “Unfortunately, yes. A request has been put in for a replacement chip but it won’t be here for two weeks, three days, four hours, twenty-seven minutes and counting,” she answered matter-of--factly.

                “Feh,” Kibum grumbled, moving closer to the panel under the holoscreen. “Let me take a look, Sunny. I might be able to do a quick fix for now,” he promised, kneeling while he waited.

                “But a replacement is-”

                “Sunny,” he stated flatly, looking up at the emoticon with a pursed mouth.

                “Okay.”

                Kibum laughed at the easy capitulation and then nibbled on his bottom lip as he looked inside when the panel retracted. Nothing too crazy. One of the chips was fried but if he bypassed it with one of the existing wires… the connection wouldn’t be the most stable, but it should give her a more normal appearance again. From his back pocket, he pulled out his multifunction tool, clicked through the options until he found the one he needed and set to work with the quick fix. “Ow!” he yelped as a tiny spark shocked his finger.

                “Is everything alright?” Sunny asked, the emoticon turning into a worried frown.

                “It was a little hotter than I thought it would be,” he grumbled, continuing to mumble under his breath as he fixed the issue for the time being. “There!” he grinned, tapping on the frame with his fist to indicate he was finished. “Much better,” he added, looking up to see the cherubic face of their building’s AI. Her warm smile made her full cheeks rise obviously and the wavy curls of gold framing her face always made her seem open and welcoming.

                “I see that my visual appearance has returned to normal. Thank you, Mr. Kim,” she beamed, tracking him with moving cinnamon brown eyes this time as opposed to the static image it had been previously.

                “No problem. Hopefully they’ll bring a new replacement part next time,” he sighed, waving at her as he started to head to the stairs.

                “Not likely, Mr. Kim. On the list of priorities, my appearance in this district and in this building especially is not particularly high.”

                “And?” Kibum asked over his shoulder, not waiting for a response before he added, “Everybody deserves to be seen.”

                Sunny’s voice didn’t change but he knew she was smiling when she said, “Thank you, Mr. Kim. I hope you have a good evening.”

                “Yeah,” he sighed in agreement, giving her one more parting wave before he headed up the stairs to the third floor. Room 314 was nothing special but it was ‘affordable’ and it was basically the only thing his failure of a father had left him and his mother before he up and disappeared from their lives. He still had to pay for it though, necessitating the job he’d found at The Stars Align. At least he liked the job anyway. Exhaling softly, he stretched his neck and kicked off his shoes at the entrance before hanging the cap and face mask. “Hi mom,” he called quietly, pressing his fingers to a still frame digital picture on the wall next to the door. “Passeri and Jackson say hi too,” he added into the ensuing silence as he headed for the tiny bathroom.

                He washed his face, took out his colored contacts, brushed his teeth and glared at the visage in the mirror. With no concealer to help him hide, his eighteen-year-old face looked too sharp and angled. There were bags under his eyes and he looked older than he should have. Groaning softly, he covered his face with his hands and scrubbed before turning away. “One day. One day, Kibum,” he promised himself, heading back into the main room and pulling out the wall bed before falling face first on it.

                His stomach issued a quiet complaint but he curled up around it and ignored it. He’d forgotten to take extra food from the canteen today and hadn’t been able to snag more than a couple bites of leftovers at work. If he didn’t think about it though, he’d fall asleep eventually. And as always, he did. Not comfortably or happily, but sleep came all the same.