NOVEMBER 7TH, 2120 A.D
—AURORA SPACECRAFT.
[115 DAYS TO MARS.]
five a.m. in the spacecraft residency is hongjoong's favourite time- the one-hour mark before everyone wakes up, and the ship whirs to life with seven more awake bodies. and after a couple nights of planning a last-minute route to mars in order to prevent the meteor shower collision, it's safe to say the commander can afford a lie-in today. usually, he enjoys floating through the navigation room, coffee flask in hand, listening to the way his heartbeat matches the whirs and clicking of technology, watching the unwavering stars blink back at him as the grasps of sleep weaken around him, and weather reports from all over the galaxy catch his attention; a debris shower on jupiter, a new supernova by pluto, and so forth. but today, he's lying on his stomach, pencil in hand, tongue poking out as he sketches a new portrait. call him weird, but after seeing the same seven faces for two weeks, he's indiscreetly decided to use them as his newest muses. currently, he's sketching a picture of san staring through a window at a star-ridden sky- a real-life event that he'd walked past only yesterday, and a sight his hands have been itching to memorialise onto paper. hongjoong's sketches are usually modest in size, although the KQSA superiors in charge of supplies were happy enough to give him enough art materials to last the next decade or so.
he's got his music volume on the lowest settting as the machinery in his sleeping pod hums along to the tune. it's never silent around the ship- something he's eternally grateful for (he's sure he'd have gone insane by now if not).
the captain is deeply immersed in drawing until a strange noise outside his door catches his attention.
his ears hyper-focus on the hum and click of a sleeping pod door opening and shutting. it's curious, as none of the boys would ever be up now (the vast majority of the crew are late sleepers and late risers- typical), but he supposes maybe someone's gone to get a cup of water or something. from the faint sound of it, hongjoong suspects it's one of the younger members; himself and seonghwa are the closest to the entrance of the sleeping quarters- his pod on the left, seonghwa's opposite, and each pod gets further down the corridor in age order. if he's really bothered to care, then maybe he suspects san or mingi is up. but he puts pencil to paper once again, nonplussed.
until he hears it again, a little closer to his pod (yeosang? yunho?). and again. he guesses two of the members have bumped into each other, beacsue there's a slight giggle and a prompt shh! afterwards.
he counts four, five, six, seven pod doors sliding open and shutting. what the hell?
they're up to something, he knows it. but honestly, he's too relaxed to care right now. he closes his sketch pad and floats to the small, circular window on the wall, ready to daydream and wade through his thoughts before the six o'clock alarm rings throughout the ship.
he checks the little digital alarm clock above his bed. half-past five. the quiet humming nurses his mind and he breathes in deeply, tranquil.
slam. "HONGJOONGIE HYUNG, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" cries a thousand deafening voices. seven streamers are blown at once. ah, his birthday.
there are now seven more men shoved into his pod, party hats on and streamers being used to their full extent.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY! wake up, wake up, wake up, hyung!" jongho's noisy demands echo around his small room, with san and mingi pulling him up and out of his pod and into the living quarters. he's speechless, surprised beyond words.
all of them are trying to grab onto him, one way or another: wooyoung's got his hands on his shoulders, san's got his hands over wooyoung's hands on his shoulders, and mingi and yunho have linked their arms with his, one on each side. yeosang disappears and reappears holding a slightly wonky cake and even a smile. jongho's yelling something like "i made the cake last night, hyung!" amidst the constant blowing of streamers and excitement. seonghwa stands a little far off from the others, watching amusedly, telling him to make a wish repeatedly. the candles (there are ten in total, but hongjoong reckons the abundance of badly covered-up holes in the cake are from the boys trying to put in twenty-two candles and realising there wasn't enough space on it) are unlit, since unshielded fire is a pretty big risk to have on an anti-gravity spaceship.
but he entertains them anyway. he makes a wish (which he won't say, otherwise it won't come true!) and blows out the imaginary fire, and the crew whoop and cheer so loudly, their vibrations shake and reverberate the ship.
"is it too early to eat the cake? cake for breakfast?" wooyoung asks, looking at jongho, who also seems to be pondering over the same thing.
"time is relative. come on!" mingi deadpans, reaching for the knife beside the cake. shouts of protest stop him as many limbs go flying to stop him.
"are you the birthday boy, mingi? hongjoong hyung cuts the cake, duh!" san scolds, gingerly prying the knife out of mingi's hand and giving it to the commander. hongjoong, in all his twenty-two years of living, has never received such enraptured attention ever in his life, so the seven pairs of eyes eagerly awaiting him to cut this cake is somewhat pressurising.
(he doesn't even want to eat cake right now- wooyoung's right, it is too early to eat cake before six and for breakfast, no less. but no one told him that the sacrifices he'd make as leader were going to be this... interesting.)
he cuts the cake, cutting slightly bigger slices for the rest of them than himself. but alas, the six o'clock alarm blares just as he cuts the final piece, causing groans and complaints around the group.
...one by one, the SUNRISE members turn their heads, gazing imploringly at the leader, knowing fully well he's the only figure of authority that stands in the way of a later start in schedule. ah, they really do use his affection to their advantage.
he sighs dramatically. "fine, we'll start at seven instead. bonding time will be delayed to half eight, and someone has to help jongho clean the plates afterwards!" he tells them, to much delight from the others, who leave their slices of cake to float in the air as they crowd around the leader, drowning him in limbs and hugs.
"yes, okay, okay! enough, you know i have to write this down in the report too!" he tries to sound authoritative and bossy, but he's more worried he sounds like a timid pupppy instead.
"they won't mind, just say it's your birthday! special occasion," yunho quips with cream dotted on his nose.
"or you could lie. they don't have to know," yeosang mumbles quietly. the words hound all of them like a slap to the face. secretly, they'd all been thinking that too; it's just that yeosang actually has the balls to voice his opinions aloud. the rest of them don't respond, and choose to stuff their mouths with cake instead of answering, leaving silence to hang in the air above them.
-☆-
surprisingly, seonghwa feels good today. a hundred percent back to his old self. no weird, creepy forces controlling him, no abnormally high feverish temperatures. after a fortnight of feeling off, it's safe to say he's back to normal, thank the stars.
or so he thinks, until he walks into the control bay, ready to write up a report with the rest of the team detailing the new route.
at first, no one pays attention to him; the four members present (commander hongjoong, yunho, mingi, san) are all hunched over scraps of paper and monitors outlining the specifications needed in the report.
"ah, seonghwa hyung! can you-" yunho freezes as he turns around, eyeing him from head to toe, leaving him feeling exposed and insecure. the other members start to turn around to look at him, and each are equally as jaw-dropped as the herbologist.
"what? have i got something on my face?" he wipes his face vigourously, terrified by their gormless expressions, heart rate quickened to an alarming pace.
"uh- no, there's nothing. don't worry 'bout it," yunho replies, looking thoroughly unconvinced by his own words. cautiously, seonghwa goes to stand next to mingi, who flinches violently and stands closer to san. he pretends to not notice this, but something in his heart splinters, and he's fearful and terribly confused right now. is he scaring them? has he done something? he kind of wishes he had his outspoken-ness back, so he could demand them to tell him what's making them act so weirdly.
his heart continues to chip away each time the members refuse to meet his eyes when he speaks and move away to make sure there's distance between themselves and him.
at the end of a torturous two-hour session and hongjoong promising he'll finish the rest of the report later, mingi and san rush out of the room at a lightning pace, and yunho's ears are an alarming shade of beetroot as he leaves in the opposite direction. even hongjoong can't bear to look at him, as he fusses with their loose papers and coffee cups.
"did i... did i do something wrong?" he manages to ask hongjoong through baited breath. the other pauses, and seonghwa thinks maybe he hadn't heard him (though it'd be impossible- they're standing right next to each other) until he stops chewing his bottom lip.
"...no. you're fine," he answers sparingly. he's doing that habit of his where he taps his feet nervously. hongjoong would always do it back on earth, but in space, with the lack of gravity, he still continues to do it, though he's just wiggling his feet in the air instead.
"then why are you acting so weirdly right now? why did the others leave so quickly?" he can feel himself growing heated; angry with embarrassment.
(the truth is, seonghwa has a notorious past of having anger and temperament issues. though he's learnt to control it over time and multiple therapy sessions, it's something he and his mother can look back on and laugh at. multiple arrests for arson and public damage (he'd never hurt a person- one of his rules back then) have made him go through more trials at KQSA than any other trainee, just to make sure he's fit for the job. whilst it's a topic he's never really touched on with the team, they all know somewhat about his harrowing and slightly mysterious past. but old habits die hard, and whilst he's very good with controlling his temper, sometimes there are licks of temperamental flames that are untameable.)
hongjoong's cheeks flare up- a delicate peach colour that splashes onto his cheeks and the tip of his nose. he's turned away from seonghwa, still meddling with buttons and papers that are fine on their own.
"you just... er, you just look really good today, 's all," the shorter boy mutters, shuffling his papers one last time before leaving the room, pretending they'd never been in the same room together in the first place. huh.
upon the quick absence of all his teammates, he goes to see for himself. ignoring the roaring blood rushing to his face, he checks the mirror hanging in the central bay. he looks normal. if anything, he should look like a pile of shit, today especially: he'd gotten less sleep than usual, and they'd woken up extra early to fix the decorations for hongjoong's birthday. he supposes the others were too busy fussing over their birthday boy to react as violently as they'd done during those two hours.
still confused (but very much flattered), the second-in-command goes to scout out yeosang, who's chilling out kitchens, thankfully alone. as yeosang turns to look at them, he seems indifferent, to which seonghwa is grateful for. even if yeosang is as weirded out as the others were, he prefers to keep a stone-cold facade, claiming "emotions are for the weak".
"hey," he greets, watching seonghwa deliberately stand in front of him. "uh, what are you doing?"
"yeosang-ah, do i look... different to you?" he asks nervously, eyebrows furrowed. yeosang looks him up and down- seognhwa knows to be scrutinised by yeosang is to expect the most honest, truthful answer.
"you look good. did you use a face cream or something? can i borrow some?" he says plainly, humming in approval of his looks. his sight lingers on seonghwa a second longer as he sips his tea.
seonghwa huffs. "no! i didn't. everyone's acting really fucking weirdly around me- are you sure there's nothing wrong with me?"
he's given the once-over yet again. "nah. they probably got flustered because you look weirdly good today." he chuckles. "bet mingi popped a boner or something."
he ignores that last comment. "don't i look good everyday?" he frowns, pouting slightly.
"don't complain, hyung. there are people that would kill to have your looks! just, i don't know, get less sleep, or mess up your hair or something, and everything will be fine." yeosang pats his shoulder reassuringly, convinced by his own words. the elder huffs in response, still not satisfied with the conclusion. were the boys seriously avoiding him because of his looks? is this going to last for the next fourteen years? seriously, can't he catch a break? the last two weeks have been hell for him, and the years of training ed undergone could never have prepared him for whatever this rollercoaster ride is.
frustrated, he brews a fresh cup of tea and heads down to the second level of the spacecraft, the aurora creaking subtly as he climbs down the ladder. he ignores the relentless hammering coming from the repair room (no doubt wooyoung up to his usual antics) and sits in the hatch.
the hatch is just like any window- it shows nothing more than the stars that shoot by and the endless abundance of debris that litters their surroundings like freckles on the face of the universe. but it's purpose serves more as a little cubbyhole away from the bustle of the ship. the humming and whirring from the aurora is much louder at the bottom of the spacecraft, and as it's stationed directly next to the escape pods, a chilly draft makes the hairs on seonghwa's arms stand up through his jumpsuit. but the freshly-brewed beverage that thaws his hands and his core provides sufficient comfort as he watches the world float by, the aurora on autopilot. he's blatantly ignoring the steady pips on his watch that signal his next scheduled shift in the laboratories, but he figures if one of the members really need him, they'll know where to look.
he sits there until his butt turns numb, and the stars glaze his eyes over, and the signalling beep calls him for the next shift in schedule (ironically, he's got a free period now).
the aggravation from hours ago have slowly died down into flickering embers rather than a hungry bonfire he was feeling before, and with a deep intake of breath, he goes to face the crowd. or, he decides he'll distance himself away from the crew until... whatever this is (for a lack of better explanation) sorts itself out. he ruffles his hair consciously, per yeosang's request (with the anti-gravity, everyone's hair has definitely seen better days on earth, anyway) and heads back up to level one of the aurora, empty flask in hand.
chaos is erupting.
manic beeping and a sounding alarm rings through the base as each of the members scramble to the central bay.
"what's going on? what's happening?" wooyoung yells as he pockets the tools he'd accidentally taken with him. the eight of them circle the central monitors, desperation for some sort of information. a million buttons are being pressed as they check the vitals and levels of the ship, scouring for problems. they work as a singlular entity- each at a different station (two years of training are under their belts for situations like this).
"there's a gas leak- medical bay," yeosang states through the madness. seonghwa and mingi look at each other; silent words are exchanged as they both head to the medical bay to see what damage has been done.
there's a slight fizzing sound, but no alarming sights of emergency. they check the entire room and it's levels and settings, and quickly come to the conclusion that one of the carbon dioxide cylinders have become slightly askew- nothing a bit of tape and wooyoung can't fix.
as if on cue, the six boys in the central bay grow silent.
and then seonghwa hears a disbelieving "alien life?" echo from the room. what the fuck?
seonghwa and mingi rush back into the central bay, where the other teammates are staring at a screen with open mouths. no doubt, there are tiny little creatures, little impish squiggles, rather, that seem to be head-butting their ship, directly into the medical bay wall.
(record scratch. years ago (2098 A.D, to be precise), KQSA had successfully discovered life outside of earth, confirming aliens to be real. whilst they aren't your stereotypical, film-like aliens, they're more commonly associated with bugs, or insects. however, KQSA's 'alien life' protocol training module was little to be desired, and not the most accurate of simulations. besides, sending astronauts to space to check out life forms was highly expensive, and the government had "much better things to do with their time and money" (as quoted and mocked by eden), so their collective knowledge of alien species was limited.)
"they look pretty harmless," jongho says as they watch no more than a dozen bluish-green creatures try their best to dent the aurora, to no avail. they were no bigger than a finger, and seemed as harmless as a fly.
with the problem identified and panic controlled, wooyoung goes to fix the leaky carbon dioxide pipe in order to cease the sounding alarms. in less than five minutes, it's fixed, and the eight of them continue to stare at the screen showing the creatures still going at their medical bay, hell for leather.
hongjoong rummages for a sketch pad to draw the species as san and yunho search the (slim) index of already identified space life.
"do you think we'll get to name it, if it's new?" jongho questions excitedly as he awaits the pair to announce the creature isn't in the index.
sadly, wooyoung pulls out his little robot. "i've condensed a load of information into him, and a fuck ton of databases!" and with a quick little scan from a happy sirius, he reveals it's an already-discovered species of alien. they watch the family of critters slam their heads into the ship one last time, before they regroup and hit the metal together simultaneously. teamwork, huh?
"what are we gonna do about them?" san wonders aloud. it's not like they can burn extra fuel to makes the ship go faster in order to lose them- they don't have that much extra petrol. if they listen intently, then can hear the the muted ping! coming from the corner of the medical bay.
"they're kinda cute," seonghwa says.
"i mean, i guess as long as they don't do any damage, then we should just let them do their thing until they get bored," hongjoong concludes, to which they all nod and hum at.
after a few more seconds, the crew finally manage tear their eyes away from the monitor (though they still let the camera focus on the species) as they carry on with their duties.
-☆-
eight thirty marks daily bonding time. though, it doesn't really feel like bonding, because members keeps shuffling away from seonghwa as he's trying to focus on the novel he's reading. he's floating somewhere around the middle of the living quarters, and only yeosang seems unbothered, choosing to stay next to seonghwa as he writes up his report, unlike the others.
as he studies their placements, he can see the personalities of each of his teammates shine through. whilst his commander's made a valiant attempt at bridging the obvious gap between seonghwa and the others, he's still a good foot away from him. mingi, san and yunho have made more effort in getting as far away from him as possible, however, with san and mingi shoved into the far right corner as they turn their backs away from him. even if they're not watching a movie together, or chatting noisily away about the details of their days, san's rules for 'activity bonding time' state they must all be in the same room together, even if they're not speaking.
so that's what they're doing, with the majority of the crew writing up last minute weekly reports for hongjoong to send back to the KQSA earth base. the click-clacking of obnoxious computer keys fill the room with a relaxing atmosphere (it makes seonghwa reminisce trips to cafés, along with the smell of brewed coffee the members are living on). the more organised members (himself included) are either reading, or listening to music, or doing whatever hobbies they fancy. from the corner of his eye, he watches jongho's pink tongue peek out as he scribbles noisily onto a notepad ("he's writing a book," yeosang whispers, wiggling his eyebrows).
"hey mingi, can you pass me the eraser, please?" the youngest asks. the two are on opposites ends of the room, seonghwa caught in the middle. mingi looks pained upon realising he'd have to cross the eldest one way or another.
both yeosang and and seonghwa eye mingi as he nervously crosses the room, amusement twinkling in the navigator's eyes. seonghwa notices the way mingi flinches when he purposefully uncrosses his legs.
"aish, just pass me the eraser!" he snaps, to which the taller obeys, gulping. seonghwa throws it to jongho who says "thanks!" and continues his work as an up-and-coming author.
"mingi, stop acting weird and tell me what's up," he demands, something inside him finally having enough of the day's events.
ten seconds of silence dangle between them (he counted).
"don't bully him, hyung, we all know what's up. mingi, just stop being so damn obvious about it," yeosang's smooth voice quips, calmly going back to his report.
both boys' cheeks flare up as they return to their activities, and seonghwa runs a hand through his hair subconsciously. so yeosang was right, the boys are bothered by... his attractiveness? (yeosang's always right, to no surprise, anyway. he knows it, too, the smug bastard.)
the atmosphere returns to normal. until a flurry of voices pipe up again, all at once.
"okay seriously, i can't take it anymore! hyung, why do you look so good today? is it a cream? a night-care routine? come on!" all eyes are on him, and seonghwa swears a spotlight is now shining above him.
"um," he's really lost for words, "i haven't done anything." this sparks outrage and disagreement.
"you're lying! seriously, we know you've done something to your face!"
"i haven't, i swear! i swear on my life, all i've done is wash my face with water!" he argues defensively.
"you're suspicious, hyung. we'll figure out your secret soon!" san exclaims, waggling at finger in his direction. seonghwa wants to protest, but nothing comes out. so he just sticks his head back in his book, still mildly confused, and very frustrated. seriously, what's been up with him for the past two weeks?
the tapping of keyboards accompany the ticking of the clock, until it's nearing ten o'clock, and the first yawns are escaping tired mouths. goodnights and farewells are exchanged, along with the final "hope you had a good birthday, hyung!" (to which hongjoong responds "it was the best, thanks", expression saccharine). the eight boys climb into their pods, enveloped by the comforting blankets of sleep. seonghwa closes his eyes with a short sigh.
everything will be normal tomorrow, he promises himself.
(but life in space is rarely normal, and there's a lot more in store for the eight astronauts.)
—
♂
MARS:
the planet of action, desire, energy.
( see also: MARS / ARES – the god of WAR. )
-
the planet MARS rules your passion, determination, drive and energy, urging you to speak up and get things done. it rules over your basic physical attraction and chemistry, as well as sexual desire. moreover, MARS controls your sense of anger, wrath and power.
—
if you want to see any particular interactions/scenarios in the book, please comment it on my message board whenever! be as indulgent as you want, though please understand if i don't include certain scenes that make me feel uncomfortable to write! i'll include as much as i can for you guys! <3