Star remembered the first time she had ever encountered Teresa Avraham. She approached the Duchess, as she knew her as, on the USS Titanic, where Star was doing recon searching for any source of answers as to why neither she nor Gerald could wake up. They were living in a shack they built. Gerald was able to find a backdoor where he could code in unlimited square footage. Tessa took note.
Star took that memory and infiltrated one of Tessa's dreams from a few days prior. She was back in her cream colored gown sporting pink hair. She approached Tessa who stood gawking at a painting she once mentioned was a gift from a former suitor.
"France of 1812," Star spoke.
"Duchess," Tessa said, not averting her eyes until — "Have we been here before? I'm having the strangest form of déjà vu."
"Not sure." Through periphery she saw Tessa raise her hands, analyzing the fuzz that coursed along with her movements, almost buzzing.
"Why do they look like this?" She was starting to panic. "This isn't a glitch is it — ?"
"Hey," Star took her hands in hers, focusing her attention on her face. In retrospect, she could make Tessa do or see whatever she wanted. There was something about using her ability that made her feel complete, like it wasn't a waste. She never needed it for the game, she was a natural expert. She didn't need anything but her skill and intellect to prove she was the best player. "I want you to know that you are so incredibly beautiful. And kind. And a wonderful mother. I am so happy you came into my life when you did and I wouldn't dare to change the outcome, even for a second."
Tessa looked down, "I ruined your life."
"No, Tess, you didn't." Star wiped Tessa's wet face but to no avail she couldn't feel anything, not really. "You are my best friend. And I really wish I could've grown up to be more like you."
Tessa smiled, pressing her forehead against Star's. "I love you, habibi."
"I know. I love you, too." She forced a laugh through her tears. "But I need you to do something for me."
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
One of Star's fondest memories was after a mission in the Hurricane Fields with Gerald after fighting off Double V's for fourteen hours straight. They celebrated their ascensions by sneaking into a silent disco in the Asphodel Meadows, where weapons were banned. They sat on beach chairs, watching the dancers explore their own little universes; while stuck in Tessa's; drinking beers that tasted like white wine.
"I want you to go back to college," she shouted in his direction.
Gerald put his studio headphones into his watch, "Sorry, what?"
"I want you to go back to school," she repeated.
People always assumed that because she was the best she was constantly on top of her stats. Constantly strategizing her next more. But the truth was she had a lot of downtime. And a lot of that time included talking to Gerald. They'd talk about things that ranged from music to childhood traumas to longtime aspirations to sex stories (that mainly consisted of one while the other would sit back and listen) to life outside Sweven to Real World assumptions to Mandela effects and so on.
"I don't think you should stop because there was a glitch in your life," she confessed. "I want you to write that book concept you've been working on."
He raised his brow, "It's just gonna disappear when Sweven does — "
"It's taken care of."
Gerald wasn't suspecting a thing, she could tell. "Well, what are you gonna do when we get outta here? I bet your boy's waitin' for you."
"Well ... " This was before they knew her fate. But she was too far into this memory, she didn't want to stop to go back. She forced a laughed, "No, you're probably right."
Gerald laughed mockingly, "Don't stop your life just 'cause of a glitch, Duch."
"Oh, shut up," she shoved his arm. "I'm being serious. Tessa can help you out with that shit."
"Nah," he said, watching the dancers. "If I write a killer novel, I wanna put it out on my own. Tessa's done enough — all that bread she gave my family. I aint ever ask but ion wanna have to ever ask her for nothin'. She is — I don't know, I just don't wanna have to ask for something I don't need, you feel me?"
Star would definitely feel warm and tender and secure if she could. She didn't need to worry about him.
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
Star visited little Valley in the brief window between slumber and Sweven. It took Gabriel a few tries but they got it right somewhere between the sixth and ninth. She took her little sister to a fallen tree they used to sit on when they were kids. She liked to watch the wind brush through her eventual sisters long locs as she played with her Bratz dolls.
They spent the day running through patches of grass and abandoned buildings with their imaginary friends. Up until they'd lay down in an open field to watch helicopters rush people to the hospital off the exit highway. They would often guess the patient's stories: fell out a three story building, stroke, peanut allergy.
"When I die, I want everyone to recite a poem," Star heard her voice say in a pure and innocent tone. That of a child who knew nothing about the concept of death apart from when her father told her about how her mother went to sleep after she gave birth to her. As well as her blue bettafish, Sushi, she flushed down the toilet earlier that year. She recited Robert Frost's Fire and Ice, only because she envisioned throwing ice on fire would spark fireworks.
"What kind of poem?"
Star shrugged, finding the simplest words to string into a sentence a child could create. "Something pretty. And dark. And extraordinarily cool. Like me but in poem form."
Val hummed, staring up at the chemical trails that mimicked a checkerboard. "I want lots of food at my funeral."
"But you won't be able to eat any of it."
"Yeah but everyone likes food," she pointed out. "Food makes people happy when they're sad."
"What if our ability is to see dead people, like in that movie with that kid and the tent in his room?"
Val quickly shook her head, "That was too scary, no. I don't want that."
Star giggled, knowing the inevitable. "I'd visit you when I die."
Val turned to look at her sister, resting on her side. "You would?"
"Yeah." Star used her hands as a pillow, "I'd talk to you all the time."
