Did Astral IV beat out The Winds of Wonder in sales? Where was the next Sky Championship going to be held? When did targeting Yoca become so trendy? Why did no Ona seem to care? How was the Match going to unfold?
These were some of the many questions the citizens of Quenales were shaking with excitement about, and everyone was anticipating the Updates in which they may be answered. They were more than just the daily news. They were lifeblood; for many, their possibilities and the encompassing Match were their seed. What would they bring, come the morning?
Going to uni immediately after grade school would've been more straightforward for Paola, but her gap from going into modeling made it much harder. Yet, somehow, Paola managed to compromise her way to living as a full-time student and a part-time model with the latter, more from necessity than anything else, profiting more now than before.
Her dual life proved acceptable so far, but she just hoped it'd be worth it. Anything at that point would be worth raising her Match average from her lifetime personal worst that it was a month ago.
For years already, with at least a year left, Paola resided in a locale of her parents' choosing and noted everywhere she went, always following their many shackling rules to a T. But this weekend, after tiresome badgering from her influencer-friend Alma, Paola broke from her chains, sneaking out of her family's sights and her abode in Canrinas to hang out with her. Alma, not in school like Paola, wanted to take advantage of a break between gigs a few towns over in Lasscala and had a hotel room where the celebrity student could crash for the night.
Paola never made it there, though.
With the pair together again after Paola's train ride, there was nothing else Alma immediately wanted to do than give Paola another taste of her previously solely-superstar life and take over the night. Doing so unrelated to a job was contractually off the table for Paola, yet here she was on a Saturday night going to a distant club, anyway. She and Alma hit up La Vela for an advertised, exclusive performance, and, despite not having tickets for it, their clout was enough to get in and see how it was more than they had ever imagined it to be, much more than the chill catch-up Paola had wanted.
The guilt of going against her parents was an omnipresent force, but the party's happenings broke her. The day was soon to become another, and Paola found herself not having fun inside with Alma but instead in the adjacent back alley, dazed and dreary, sitting on the grass, sipping the dregs of a drink alone.
She was alone in her mind palace until some creaking of the fence sounding over passing cars and alleyway occurrences brought her back to reality, where a new soul entered. Paola didn't have to look – the loudness of the scrapes was enough – to tell they, unlike her, were an Ona.
"Oh, shit, that was loud," the encroacher chastised themself.
The resonance in their voice pointed to them probably being a dude, but Paola was in no mood to check. To be fair to her, as a Yoca, dealing with any Ona always brought a tinge of anxiety or two... or at least four to mirror the typical size difference. They appeared to realize they had made a disturbance, lowering their volume to one more tolerable to her ears.
"Uh, h-hey," they retried more softly. "Sorry if I'm invading a prayer session or something." Paola had half a mind to be offended by the assumption, but, for some reason, it genuinely sounded sincere rather than condescending. Nonetheless, who was this presumably gigantic person – this stranger – to ask about her well-being out of nowhere?
With the bit of voice she had, she spat back. "Why are you--?" She tried to spit back, having enough liquid courage to look at her onlooker from afar but going silent at their visage.
Their – his – Ona-ness was verified, seeing the crown of his head aligned with the top of the Ona-sized fence, whereas Paola squeezed through its closed gate between the hinges. His demeanor appeared suspiciously soft, from his tan face hairless like a cherub to his ensemble dripping in pink to the concern painted across his unbalanced stance. The appreciation of his aesthetic boldness from her fashion side tugged against the color guard of similarly-hued flags rising in her head.
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Not My Scene (G/t)
General Fiction"Everyone was anticipating the Update. It was more than just the news as that was the everyday. The Update was their lifeblood, no matter what one's background was, and, for many, the Match was their seed. What would it bring, come the morning?" Two...
