Dancing With Bowie

 

Walking down the hall, my heels clack against the wooden floorboards. With my head down, I wonder why I am here—why I am so unique.

I wonder why I think in the strangest ways, or what others would consider strange. I don’t think like everyone else. I am open to so much—emotionally. It’s hard to close the door to everything, both good and bad.

I see things that others don’t see, but not with physical human eyes. I see them through my feelings. The images are not always clear; most of the time, they are abstract. It’s the same when I dream. I dream in the abstract—nothing is clear. Nothing ever makes sense until later.

Maybe that’s why I find myself drawn to him. The personas—all different, yet each reflecting something about him or what he was feeling or going through at the time. It’s strange, because even though I knew about him, had heard a few of his songs, and watched two of the movies he starred in—one of which I liked because it was fantasy—I never really paid close attention to him.

Maybe it was because there was a time when I wasn’t open to such awareness. I didn’t quite pay attention to everything. There were things I focused on—maybe a little too much—and I found myself either burned out, or those things were ruined for me by someone else.

I continue walking down the hall. All I hear are my heels against the floorboards and the faint noise coming from the front of the club—drumbeats throbbing, guitar riffs vibrating, people chanting, clapping, and screaming. All of it a near sensory overload.

As I lift my head, I suddenly stop short. I see someone in the hall, sitting on a bench.

It is a man.

He seems familiar, but I can’t quite place his face. Then I realize who it is. He turns his head in my direction, looking at me.

The only things running through my mind are the many personas he wore during his life—four of them come to mind. The Alien, the Madman, the Rebel, and the Aristocrat. Different facets of himself, all interesting. Much like the different facets of myself—the Dreamer, the Shy Girl, the Hidden Rebel, and the Inner Madam Unique. I find myself smiling at those names. I like the way they sound.

I stand there, not moving, not saying a word.

Suddenly, he lifts one of his hands and extends it toward me, motioning for me to join him. I hesitate at first, then put my fear aside and walk over to where he is sitting.

I sit down next to him, but not too close. I don’t want him to think I’m some insane, touchy-feely person. I stare at the wall he’s staring at. Soon, he speaks.

“Nothing wrong with being unique. Nothing wrong with taking creative steps that reflect who you are and reveal things about yourself. Continue to use it to search for meaning. Not everyone will understand it. Some may not even see its deeper meaning. But keep that creativity. Sometimes creativity is the key that unlocks everything,” he said.

His words made sense, and I smiled.

“Relax, love. It’s just you and me. And I don’t bite—unless you want me to,” he said, humor lacing his voice.

I laughed quietly as I relaxed, leaning back against the bench. Then, without really noticing, I turned and rested my back against his arm and shoulder. I stretched out my legs and rested my face in my hand as I continued to stare at the wall with him.

“You and I are dressed alike,” he said.

I looked at his attire, then at mine. We were indeed dressed alike.

Him: a white button-down shirt, left casually open; black suspenders; black pants; black shoes.

Me: the same, with the exception of the black lace bustier beneath my blouse and my two-tone T-strap heels.

“Must be fate,” he said.

“Likely so,” I replied.

“Why do you think you’re finding yourself drawn to me now?” he asked.

For a moment, I smiled, then answered.

“Likely because I’m seeing and learning things about you that oddly reflect myself. It’s no secret between God and me that I found your portrayal of Jareth intriguing—so intriguing that I once wrote a short story about the character. Of course, that story is now lost,” I said.

He chuckled. “Even now, you still find that character intriguing.”

“Very true,” I said.

“And now you’re learning more about me—looking into the meaning of the songs I wrote and the personas I created,” he continued. “You even find me… dare I say, quite attractive.”

Oddly enough, without looking at him, I sensed that he was smirking. He seemed amused that after all this time, I was seeing him in that way.

It was slightly embarrassing.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “I’m sure you’re not the first person to become interested in someone who has long passed on from the Fallen World.”

“You have a point. Many well-known people who passed away still have fans who adore them,” I said.

“Darling, whenever you create a character inspired by me, don’t ever feel strange about it. Think of me as your muse,” he said.

I smiled at those words.

“I will—or at least I’ll try to remember that,” I said.

“You have a gift… a gift for feeling more deeply than others. It allows you to ‘see’ things that others may miss or never consider. It’s that very gift that enhances your creativity,” he said.

Just then, I felt his head rest against mine.

“Kanesha, you are beautiful. Don’t ever think otherwise. Everything about you is beautiful. Remember that,” he said.

I smiled as a few tears slipped from my eyes.

Without warning, we heard the click of a camera, followed by a flash of light. It was odd, because there was no one around. Then, out of the blue, we saw what looked like a sheet of paper slowly drifting to the floor. Once it landed, it revealed itself to be a photograph of him and me.

It was in full color, showing my chin-length dark brown hair, brown eyes, and medium golden-brown complexion that hinted at the Creole heritage from my mother’s side. It also captured my plus-size figure, which I realized was not exaggerated as I sometimes imagined, but balanced—a naturally curvy silhouette.

He was handsome, just as I had always seen him. Of course, his unusual eyes caught my attention. Like many people, I once thought his two-toned eyes were the result of heterochromia, only to learn later—while watching a documentary about him—that it was anisocoria, caused by an injury he had suffered. Yet it wasn’t just his eyes. I had always sensed something unusual about him—not in a strange way, but in a way that felt… dare I say, otherworldly. As if he were more than merely human.

As I thought this, I felt him chuckle. I wasn’t surprised that he was reading my thoughts through my emotions.

“So, you felt that I was more than human?” he asked, humor in his voice.

I smiled.

“Honestly, I sometimes think I’m more than merely human myself. So yes, I’ve had that feeling about you,” I said.

“Darling, the universe is a strange place. So many wonders. So many things still unknown,” he whispered softly into my ear.

“Will humans ever truly know?” I asked.

“That is a question I cannot answer,” he said.

I understood what he meant and was content with it. He could feel that I knew his words were true. And while I suspect many things… whatever I may suspect is not meant to be known.

“My dear, I have to go now,” he said.

“I know,” I replied.

“Stay uniquely beautiful, Kanesha,” he said.

He hugged me, then softly kissed my cheek. Much to my surprise, he then kissed my hand—and just like that, he was gone.

In my hand was a photograph of him and me. I smiled as I realized who must have taken it.

“Heavenly Father… only You would have an ethereal camera.”

Lumentide Adventure

 This Christmas Short Story is part of my novella - The Journey of Xiana Maverick

***********************************************************************************

The season of **Lumenhaven**—a wondrous time in Privaria. Cities and towns glowed with the colors of red, green, white, gold, and bronze. The city of Xazion was fully immersed in the spirit of the season, its citizens holding small celebrations that Aerion and Xiana joyfully attended.

Early one morning, Xiana was already awake and bustling around the living room. Aerion walked in to find her deep in thought, clearly planning something, though her movements were a bit frantic. To calm her, he stood by the reading stand and waited for her to notice him. When she turned, she accidentally bumped into him.

Aerion wore a soft smile—one that immediately steadied her and brought a smile to her own face.

“Morning, darling,” she said.

“Morning, lovely. What has you buzzing around so early?” Aerion asked.

“An idea,” she replied.

“What kind of idea?”

“Since the citizens have been holding small celebrations… I thought, why don’t we hold one as well?”

“We will—on the day of Lumentide,” Aerion said gently.

“Oh,” Xiana murmured, a little embarrassed.

Aerion chuckled and wrapped his arms around her.

“My love, I know there’s something you want to do for the citizens of Xazion during Lumenhaven. Whatever it is, I’ll help you bring it to life.”

Xiana melted into his embrace, looking into his eyes—he always knew what to say, always encouraging her. It was one of the many things she loved about him.

“Well,” she said, “since we’ll be traveling around Privaria on Lumentide Eve, how about inviting four children from Xazion to join us on the sleigh ride? If that’s okay?”

Aerion laughed softly. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. And I happen to have four particular children in mind.”

“Oh?” Xiana’s eyes sparkled with interest.

“Yes—do you remember Amy, Sharess, Rylan, and Dale?”

“Yes! They were adorable, dancing in a circle and singing,” Xiana said warmly.

“Whenever I visit Xazion, they always greet me, and they’re constantly helping everyone,” said Aerion.

Xiana smiled, remembering Amy and Sharess handing out hot cocoa and warm pastries baked by their grandmother, while Rylan and Dale helped their father sell his crystal ornaments.

“I think that’s perfect, darling,” she said.

“How about you send the invitations?” Aerion suggested.

“That I will do!” Xiana grinned.

II

Cousins Amy Baers and Sharess Dovey sat by the fireplace while their grandmother, Estelle, bustled about the kitchen of their two-story, five-bedroom row house. The girls were the same height and build, though Amy had red hair and brown eyes, while Sharess had dark hair and gray eyes. Both shared their fair complexions with Estelle, whose reddish-brown hair, green eyes, and gentle demeanor mirrored her granddaughters.

Soon, a knock sounded at the door.

“Amy, go ask who it is,” Estelle said.

“Yes, Nana,” Amy replied as she hurried over.

“Who is it?” she called through the door.

“An invitation for Amy Baers and Sharess Dovey from Lord and Lady Lysander,” a voice answered.

Hearing this, Estelle went to the door and opened it slightly. Standing there was **Victorio**, holding a red-and-gold striped invitation, which he handed to her.

“For your granddaughters, Madam Estelle,” he said.

“Thank you,” Estelle replied, accepting the envelope.

Before she could close the door, Sharess and Amy stepped forward with a gold-and-white box.

“Here—this is for Lady Xiana and Lord Aerion,” Amy said.

“We overheard Lady Xiana say she loved Nana’s chocolate and peanut butter cookies, and that Lord Aerion liked her caramel and walnut brownies,” Sharess added proudly. “So we made both. It’s our gift to them.”

Victorio smiled as he accepted the box.

“I will let Lord and Lady Lysander know. Thank you—and I’ll see you on Lumentide Eve.”

“See you then!” the girls chimed as Estelle closed the door.

“Gudan, I am blessed to have two wonderful granddaughters,” Estelle said warmly.

Amy and Sharess beamed.

✨✨✨

At the home of Solon Doren, Rylan and Dale were polishing newly made ornaments and packing them into boxes when they heard a knock. Solon—a tall, sturdy man with graying dark hair, brown eyes, and a light tan complexion—went to answer it.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“An invitation for Rylan and Dale Doren from Lord and Lady Lysander.”

Solon opened the door to find Victorio standing there. He handed Solon an invitation identical to the one given to Amy and Sharess.

Rylan and Dale resembled their father closely. Rylan had short dark hair and hazel eyes, while Dale wore his hair long and possessed brown-gray eyes.

“Thank you,” Solon said.

Dale quickly grabbed a small box of ornaments they had finished earlier and approached the door.

“These crystal ornaments are for Lady Xiana,” he said. “We overheard her say she likes the colors pink, purple, and red, and that her favorite shapes are diamonds and stars. With our father’s help, we made these for her.”

Victorio smiled as he accepted the box.

“Thank you—Lady Xiana will be delighted.”

“Thank you,” Rylan said as Victorio departed and Solon closed the door.

“Gudan, I have good sons,” Solon whispered with pride. “Keep them safe and bless them.”

✨✨✨

When Victorio returned to the citadel, he presented the boxes to Aerion and Xiana and explained where each had come from.

“Oh, how sweet,” Xiana said as she opened the box of ornaments.

Aerion smiled. “I knew I made a good choice in inviting them.”

“Yes, you did, my Lord,” Victorio said. He hesitated, then continued, “And…I hope I have Lady Xiana’s forgiveness for my earlier indifference. It’s clear you not only love and care for Lord Aerion, but you’ve brought so much to the citadel. You honor its history and purpose, and the citizens of Xazion adore you. You care so deeply about them, and they feel that. I have been biased—and an ignorant fool.”

Xiana smiled softly and nodded.

“Of course you have my forgiveness, Victorio.”

Relieved, Victorio returned the smile. “Thank you, my Lady.” He bowed before excusing himself.

“I told you he’d come around,” Aerion said with a grin.

Xiana giggled. “And you did.”

III

It was Lumentide Eve in Privaria when the four children—Amy, Sharess, Rylan, and Dale—arrived at the citadel. Perelle greeted them warmly and led them to one of the living rooms.

A large red rug covered the polished wooden floor. To the right stood a long table overflowing with food and steaming cups of hot chocolate. A tall tree, decorated in red, green, and gold, shimmered beside a grand window, and a massive stone fireplace glowed softly with warmth.

The children stared around the room in wonder.

“WOW!” Sharess gasped.

“Exactly—wow,” Dale echoed.

Soon, Aerion entered the room. He was dressed in a crisp white long-sleeve shirt, red trousers, and black loafers. A gentle smile lit his face as he approached.

“Hello there,” he greeted.

“Hello!” the children answered together.

“I am Aerion Lysander, and I welcome you to my home,” he said.

Amy walked right up to him, tipped her head back, and examined him with wide eyes.

“You’re tall,” she declared.

Aerion chuckled.

“Are you really a Gryphon?” Rylan asked, curiosity bright in his eyes.

“Yes, I am,” Aerion replied. “A Gryphon and one of Gudan’s guardians and scribes.”

“What do you guard?” Sharess asked.

“I guard your home—Xazion,” Aerion said with a proud, gentle smile.

“Did Gudan tell you to guard it?” Dale asked.

Aerion smiled. “More accurately, He appointed me to, and I have done so with gratitude,” he said.

The children beamed.

“We’re glad you’re the one guarding Xazion,” Amy said.

“And I am happy that I am,” Aerion replied.

Just then, Xiana entered the room, and the children stared in awe.

She wore an ankle-length red velvet corset dress with long white bishop sleeves and a wide leather belt around her waist. On the belt buckle shimmered a symbol of a Gryphon’s wing intertwined with a dragon’s claw. A gold snowflake-and-holly hairpin adorned her dark curls, and her black boots were laced with gold.

She smiled warmly.

“Hello there. I am Xiana Lysander.”

“Hello, Miss Xiana,” the children chimed.

“I see Mr. Lysander has welcomed you. Would you like something to eat?” she asked.

“Yes, please!” the children said eagerly.

“Follow me,” Xiana said, guiding them to the table.

Each child was given a plate filled with meats, vegetables, and sweets. They settled by the fireplace, and Xiana, Aerion, Perelle, and Victorio joined them with their own plates. Afterward, they played games, shared stories, and laughed together. Perelle even brought out a portable piano and began playing lively tunes, prompting the children to dance with delight.

After the merriment, Aerion rose from his red-and-white velvet chair and quietly stepped out of the room.

“Where is Mr. Lysander going?” Amy asked, worried. “Is he tired of us?”

Xiana smiled gently. “No, sweetie. He’s going to prepare for the mystical sleigh ride. Remember? We’re delivering gifts to everyone in Privaria.”

“Oh… okay,” Amy said, blushing.

Perelle wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Amy. You didn’t ask anything wrong,” she assured her.

Hearing that brought Amy a sense of relief.

“Now, we need to get ready ourselves. We have coats and gloves for all of you,” Xiana said.

“Oooh!” Sharess squealed.

Victorio appeared carrying several gift boxes and handed them to the children. They opened them eagerly, revealing coats, hats, scarves, and gloves tucked neatly inside.

Amy’s set was white trimmed with green. Sharess’ was blue with gold accents.

Dale and Rylan’s sets were both brown, though Dale’s had green trim, while Rylan’s had silver.

Perelle, Victorio, and Xiana helped the children bundle up. Victorio then brought out warm winter boots for each of them. Just as the children finished putting them on, Aerion walked back into the living room.

He now wore a military-style coat trimmed with fur at the collar. His loafers were replaced by black boots, and white gloves covered his hands. Draped over one arm was a long red velvet coat.

He approached Xiana with a smile.

“My Lady, your coat,” he said, holding it open for her.

Xiana returned the smile and slipped her arms into the coat before fastening it. She reached into one pocket and pulled out a pair of white gloves, sliding them onto her hands. Once she was ready, she and Aerion turned their attention to the children.

“Are all of you ready to go?” Aerion asked.

“YES!” the children shouted in unison.

Xiana and Aerion laughed.

“Very well—let’s go!” Aerion said, taking Xiana’s hand.

The children followed them out of the living room, down the stairs, and into the stables, where a grand sleigh awaited. It was enormous—large enough for the massive bag of gifts, Aerion and Xiana, and all four children.

The children climbed in first, bubbling with excitement. Aerion then helped Xiana into the sleigh.

“Thank you, darling,” she said with a warm smile as she settled into her seat.

“You’re welcome, my lovely,” Aerion replied, circling around the sleigh to climb in beside her.

“How does the sleigh move?” Dale asked.

Suddenly, eight ethereal caribou materialized in front of the sleigh, shimmering like frost-touched starlight. Red-and-white striped reins appeared along with them.

“WOW!” the children exclaimed.

Aerion chuckled. “Are we ready to go?”

“YES!” the children shouted.

“Yes, we are, my love,” Xiana said as she cuddled close to him.

“Then off we go,” Aerion said as he snapped the reins.

The sleigh glided forward, gathering speed before lifting gracefully into the night sky.

IV

The sleigh ride was magical. The children gazed down in wonder at the towns below, glowing with the warm lights of Lumenhaven. Each time Aerion softly landed the sleigh on a rooftop, he would call out names from a list. The children and Xiana gathered the gifts, packed them into a smaller bag, and watched as Aerion shimmered into the home. Through a crystal orb fixed to the sleigh, Xiana and the children could see him placing the gifts beneath each family’s tree before shimmering back to them.

House to house, town to town, Aerion, Xiana, and their four little helpers delivered gifts throughout Privaria. As they traveled, Xiana and the children sang songs, and Aerion often joined them.

Then, without warning, an ominous feeling washed over Xiana, sending a shiver through her.

“Miss Xiana, are you okay?” Amy asked. “You shivered.”

“Are you cold, love?” Aerion asked.

“No, I’m not,” Xiana said. “I just sensed something… something that didn’t feel friendly.”

“What was it?” Rylan asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied softly.

Aerion kept his eyes on the skies ahead, but his voice gently brushed her mind.

The presence you felt… it is called Gravenholt.

What does it want? Xiana asked telepathically.

Gravenholt appears only on this night, Aerion answered. Its duty is to seek out and punish those who have been cruel. It also torments children who have been very mischievous.

Xiana grew tense, and Aerion sensed it immediately.

Worry not, Fire Diamond. Gravenholt will not seek to punish you—unless it wishes for me to rip off its horns.

The remark made Xiana smile and softly giggle.

Aerion landed on another rooftop and called out a name. Xiana and the children packed the gifts into a smaller bag and handed it to him. He shimmered into the house, and Xiana and the children watched through the orb as they waited for his return.

Suddenly, that ominous feeling surged back—stronger this time. Then Xiana and the children heard growling.

“Miss Xiana… what’s that?” Dale whispered.

“I don’t know,” Xiana said carefully.

The growling grew louder, closer. The caribou grew restless, pawing anxiously at the rooftop. Xiana grabbed the reins, pulling gently yet firmly to steady them.

“Miss Xiana… something’s gonna get us,” Rylan said, fear trembling in his voice.

“No, it won’t,” Xiana said firmly.

Her eyes suddenly flared, the inner fire blazing to life.

“Gudan, Creator of all… lend me your power. I call forth light to reveal what stands before us. I pray you, grant me this strength,” she said aloud.

A bright, fiery radiance burst around Xiana, unfurling like wings and lighting the entire area. In the glow, the creature was revealed:

Tall. Horned. Cloaked in dark fur. Long claws. Red eyes burning with judgment.

It stared directly into Xiana’s glowing eyes.

“A child… A child in your midst was not compliant,” it rumbled. “Disobedient. Yet you reward this child with gifts and kindness.”

The fire in Xiana’s eyes blazed even hotter, forcing the creature to recoil.

“If the child was disobedient, then clearly the child has either atoned—or must be given the chance to atone,” Xiana said, her voice fierce and touched with the otherworldly.

“You heard her, Gravenholt!” Aerion said sharply as he shimmered back beside her.

Gravenholt looked between Xiana and Aerion, and knew it was wiser to withdraw. It fled without another word.

Once the creature vanished, Xiana’s radiance dimmed. She turned gently toward the children.

“Which one of you was disobedient?” she asked.

Sharess sheepishly raised her hand. “I… I had been sneaking out of the house at night to watch the Star Dancers in the sky. One night Mommy caught me, and I told her what I was doing. She said not to do it anymore because it was dangerous. But I didn’t listen… I snuck out again. I was nearly kidnapped, but someone kind saved me and brought me home. Mommy and Daddy grounded me for three weeks. I felt so bad, and I apologized.”

Sharess began to cry, and Amy, Rylan, and Dale wrapped their arms around her.

“Were you forgiven?” Aerion asked softly.

Sharess nodded.

Xiana and Aerion hugged the children as well.

“You did a wrong thing, Sharess,” Aerion said gently. “But you felt remorse and apologized. And Lady Xiana and I have seen how deeply you love your cousin, your Nana, and your parents. We know you are a good child.”

“She is! She’s a great cuzzie and my best friend,” Amy said firmly.

“And she always talks to me and Rylan,” Dale added. “She stands up for us when other kids try to pick on us.”

Aerion and Xiana smiled warmly.

“It seems Gravenholt failed to sense Sharess’s goodness,” Aerion said. “It focused only on that one mistake. Not surprising—creatures like Gravenholt look only at negativity. That is what they feed on.”

“Well, he’s gone now. Thanks be to Gudan,” Xiana said with relief.

“Yes,” Aerion agreed. “And now, let’s continue our journey through Privaria. We still have so many gifts to deliver.”

“YAY!” the children cheered.

Xiana and Aerion exchanged a smile. Aerion climbed back into the sleigh, the children following eagerly, and together they flew off into the night.

V

Aerion, Xiana, and the children returned to Aerion Citadel. All four children were fast asleep in the sleigh—it had been a long, magical night. With the help of Perelle and Victorio, Aerion and Xiana gently lifted the children into their arms and carried them to a cozy room filled with soft beds. They tucked each child in and quietly closed the door behind them.

“They had quite the adventure,” Aerion said.

“Yes, they did,” Xiana replied with a warm smile.

♦♦♦♦

The next morning, all four children woke to find their families waiting for them—Sharess and Amy greeted their Nana and parents, while Rylan and Dale rushed into the arms of their father. The room filled with excited chatter and relieved hugs.

Soon the door opened, and Perelle stepped inside.

“Lord and Lady Lysander invite all of you to join them for breakfast this Lumenhaven morning,” she said with a gracious smile.

“Thank you, Lady Perelle. We are honored to join them,” Solon replied.

In the dining room, Aerion and Xiana welcomed everyone. The gathering had grown—Mira and Gael were there with Gael’s father and Mira’s parents. Inez and Javion attended with his parents and her father. Xiana’s parents were present as well, along with Aerion’s family and even Victorio’s. It was a joyful Lumenhaven breakfast filled with laughter, stories, and warmth.

After the meal, each of the children gave Aerion and Xiana a hug.

“Can we come back and visit?” Sharess asked.

“If your parents say yes—and they come with you—of course you may,” Aerion said with a smile.

“Thank you! And I hope you and Lady Xiana liked the present Sharess and I made,” Amy said.

“We did,” Aerion replied warmly. “And we loved the ornaments from Rylan and Dale as well. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” the children chimed together before leaving with their families.

When the citadel had finally quieted, Xiana leaned into Aerion.

“This was a wonderful Lumenhaven,” she said softly.

Aerion wrapped his arm around her waist. “Yes, it was… Happy Lumenhaven, Fire Diamond,” he said, gazing into her eyes.

She smiled tenderly. “Happy Lumenhaven, Bravewing.”

And they kissed.

Starman Descending

  2150 — Earth has become a world of highly advanced technology. Homes and apartment buildings now feature integrated AI and voice activation, and vehicles drive themselves with ease. Yet there is one innovation no one ever expected: the creation of the perfect person. Android companions have become the norm, and countless companies now specialize in providing individuals with these lifelike partners. Because of this, many dating websites and apps have faded into obscurity.

One company, in particular, has risen above the rest: “Perfect Companions”. Their androids are astonishingly lifelike—so much so that many claim it is nearly impossible to distinguish them from actual humans. The only giveaway is their basic programming, which consists of simple data knowledge and a selection of programmable skills, including basic medical and life skills.

It was nighttime, and the local showroom was closed. Security cameras swept across every inch of the floor.

All was quiet.

Then, a glowing orb of light slipped into the building through the air vents. The cameras caught sight of it, yet somehow it didn’t trigger the alarm as it moved gracefully through the showroom. The orb examined every android model, paying particular attention to the male androids.

It suddenly stopped in front of one specific male model. Circling it slowly, the orb scanned the android from head to toe.

Once the scan was complete, the orb hovered above the android. Its glow intensified, flooding the entire showroom with brilliant light. The alarm blared for a brief moment.

But by the time the security team rushed inside, the room was dark again and completely still. Scanners in hand, they searched every corner of the showroom, including the androids. Nothing suspicious was found.

Assuming the alarm had simply malfunctioned, the security team eventually left.

Inside the male android, the orb pulsed—causing its eyes to flicker to life.

2

Massia Le Prince walked out of the courtroom with documents in hand.

A divorce decree… she was no longer married.

As she stepped out of the courthouse, she fought back tears.

For five years, she had poured her heart and soul into her marriage. For five years, she endured her ex-husband’s asinine demands and short-sighted decisions. Five years of doing everything his way—never once asking for anything grand in return.

She had nearly reached the bottom step of the courthouse when she heard her name.

Massia refused to turn around; she knew exactly who it was. She kept walking.

“Massia! Massia!” Ron called out.

She ignored him and continued forward.

“Massia! Massia, will you wait a minute?” Ron shouted as he hurried after her.

Massia quickened her pace.

“Massia! I’m talking to you!” he said, still chasing after her.

Not wanting to speak to him—not today, not ever again—Massia turned toward the side entrance of the courthouse. There, she approached a police officer and quietly explained her situation. The officer nodded and agreed to escort her to her car.

Ron could do nothing but watch as Massia, accompanied by the officer, walked away.

Once inside her vehicle, she thanked the officer and pulled out of the parking lot.

◾◾◾◾

Massia switched her car to auto-pilot, letting it drive itself. She was far too upset to focus on the road. As she tried to relax, she glanced at herself in the rearview mirror.

Her warm brown eyes were tired from stress and crying, though her bronze-and-ivory complexion showed no trace of strain. She wore her shoulder-length dark brown hair pulled back, not wanting to fuss with styling it. The pink high-collar long-sleeve top and black pencil skirt suited her semi-conservative style, flattering her full and curvaceous figure.

“Incoming call,” the AI voice of her car announced.

“From who?” Massia asked.

“Ron Fairston,” the AI replied.

Massia huffed. “Don’t answer. Block the number.”

“Call ended. Number blocked,” said the AI.

“I’m sure he’s having a fit,” she muttered. “But he’ll get over it.”

◾◾◾◾

Massia arrived home, relieved to finally be in her own space.

Her townhouse was simple but comforting—a place her favorite uncle allowed her to live in, as long as she covered the utilities.

“Welcome home, Massia,” said Capella, the home’s AI system.

“Hello, Capella. Any emails or notices?” Massia asked.

“Ten emails: one from your mother. Others are utility payment confirmations, and the rest are unsolicited junk mail,” Capella replied.

“Thank you,” Massia said.

Suddenly, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen—it was her best friend, Sabine. She answered and switched it to speaker.

“You’re on speaker, Sab,” Massia said.

“So, Ron showed up at my studio,” Sabine began. “Whining about how you didn’t even stop to talk to him after the divorce was finalized.”

Massia rolled her eyes.

“There was nothing to talk about. The marriage is over—sheesh,” she said.

“Pierce told him the same thing. Then he warned Ron that if he didn’t leave the studio, he’d be thrown out and slapped with a No Trespass Order. Pierce also made it clear that you’re done with him and that Ron needs to move on—especially since you two didn’t part on the best terms,” Sabine said.

Massia sighed.

“Anyway, I’m just glad it’s over,” she said.

“Yes, but your life isn’t over. This chapter has closed, and a new one is beginning,” Sabine reminded her.

“So I’ve been told,” Massia replied.

“Tell you what—swing by the studio today. Hair, makeup… the full treatment,” Sabine suggested.

Massia smiled. “I’ll do just that. Who knows… maybe even do a little shopping afterward.”

“That’s the spirit!” Sabine said.

3

Sabine’s Glamour Studio occupied an old television station that had been converted into a business hub.

Sabine was finishing Massia’s makeup when her husband, Pierce Dobson, walked over.

Sabine, like Massia, was full and curvaceous, though her complexion was a deeper shade, and her hair fell to the middle of her back. Pierce was tall, with blond hair streaked in black, brown, and blue, blue-green eyes, and a fair complexion.

“You look beautiful, Sia,” Pierce said, using Massia’s nickname.

“Thank you—even though the curlers are still in my hair,” Massia said with a smile.

“I’m taking those out right now,” Sabine replied.

As Sabine removed the curlers, the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall played an ad for Perfect Companions.

“I still can’t believe people will pay a fortune for a life-size sex doll that barely does anything beyond the basics,” Pierce said.

“That’s exactly why they pay a fortune,” Sabine countered. “If all someone wants are the basics without any drama, an android companion is worth the cost—at least in their minds.”

“Pfft. You can go to a local brothel or hire an escort and get the same ‘basic’ experience for half the cost of maintaining one of those androids,” Pierce said.

Sabine and Massia burst into laughter at his comment.

“Oh, darling, I love you,” Sabine said, smiling at him.

Pierce grinned.

Sabine brushed out the curls, revealing soft waves. Massia smiled as she looked at her reflection.

“What do you think?” Sabine asked.

“I think… I look beautiful,” Massia said, still smiling.

“And you are,” Pierce added warmly.

“How much do I owe you?” Massia asked.

“Nothing. This is my gift to you—to lift your spirits,” Sabine said.

“Thank you,” Massia murmured, her voice catching.

“Always, girly,” Sabine said as they hugged.

◾◾◾◾

A makeover and a little shopping were exactly what Massia needed. Her mood had lifted, and she finally felt relaxed and calm.

As she walked past several stores, she came upon a Perfect Companions showroom. Curious, she stepped inside. The showroom was massive—two levels, in fact. Massia wasn’t surprised by the number of single men and women browsing the aisles. What did surprise her were the families. She soon learned that Perfect Companions offered a Nanny Companion line specifically for households with children.

As she wandered deeper into the showroom, a sales representative approached her.

“Hello there. Welcome to Perfect Companions. I’m Deirdre,” the woman said.

“Hello. I’m just looking around,” Massia replied.

“Are you looking for a particular android?” Deirdre asked.

“No, I just came in out of curiosity,” Massia said.

“That’s perfectly fine. People are always curious about our companions. If you have any questions, just let me know,” Deirdre said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Massia said, and Deirdre walked away.

Massia continued browsing, though she soon felt an odd sensation—like she was being watched. She glanced around, but no one in particular seemed to be paying her any attention. Shrugging it off as simple paranoia, she moved on.

She eventually stopped in front of an android model dressed in a long-sleeve black shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. His hair was shoulder-length—a dark blondish brown—and his eyes were a striking dark gray. Massia felt strangely drawn to him and almost reached out to touch him. But a “Do Not Touch the Androids” sign caught her eye, stopping her hand.

Looking at him more closely, Massia suddenly felt compelled to smile—and she did.

“You’re handsome,” she murmured. “However… I can’t afford you. And if I *could*, I’d probably look desperate.” She chuckled softly. “So I’ll take this good feeling as a sign I’ll fall in love again.”

With that, she walked away.

The android’s eyes moved, tracking her as she left the showroom. Then his gaze swept across the building, scanning every exit. When Deirdre approached, his eyes instantly stilled. She was joined by a woman much older than Massia.

“And this is our basic male android model. This one is named March. Don’t ask me why. I don’t get to name them,” Deirdre said.

The woman chuckled.

“March is quite handsome. I’ll take him,” she said.

“Would you prefer the Basic AI Package—which includes life-skills and core knowledge—or the Advanced AI Package with added language translation and technological integration?” Deirdre asked.

“I’ll take the Basic package. I don’t want him to be too smart,” the woman replied.

“Excellent choice, madam. Follow me, and we’ll get him ready for you while you complete the paperwork,” Deirdre said.

The android named March allowed the faintest smile. His way out of showroom had arrived. Now, he needed to form a plan to find Massia Le Prince.

4

The woman who purchased March was a well-known fashion designer named Lorelle Janos. She was of average height and build, with dark brown hair that had mostly turned white, warm brown eyes, and a fair complexion lined with a few wrinkles.

March was delivered to her fashion studio, where she dressed him in a black leather blazer, a white turtleneck sweater, black jeans, and matching shoes. She had her hairstylist fix his hair, and afterward, Lorelle placed a pair of round-frame glasses on him.

Stepping back, she smiled.

“March, you’re going to be the new face of my men’s line—Thornwood Avenue,” she said, admiring her work.

A moment later, Lorelle’s assistant, Margo Case, entered the studio and stopped short when she saw March.

“Miss Lorelle, please tell me you did not purchase an android,” Margo said.

“Yes, I did, Margo. And he’s going to be the face of Thornwood Avenue,” Lorelle announced with excitement.

Margo sighed. “Miss Lorelle, Janos Fashions Etc. cannot afford him. The last collection was a flop.”

Lorelle turned sharply toward her.

“I am aware of that, Margo,” she snapped. “However, I believe Thornwood Avenue will be a success—with March here as its face.”

Margo blew out an exasperated breath as Lorelle returned her attention to March.

“Isn’t he handsome?” Lorelle cooed, brushing her fingers through his hair and along his cheek.

Margo raised an eyebrow. “I prefer my men short and slightly chubby.”

Lorelle slowly turned, eyes narrowing. Margo immediately recognized the warning sign and wisely slipped out of the room.

Lorelle beamed at March again.

“Don’t worry, Marchie baby. You’re going to wow the world,” she said sweetly.

March didn’t move, but internally he thought:

What have I gotten myself into?

◾◾◾◾

Night had fallen, and Massia was asleep—dreaming.

**The Dream:**

She was inside a spaceship, but nothing about it looked like the cold, metallic vessels she’d seen in movies. There were no steel consoles, no wide digital screens or glowing graphs. Instead, everything around her was organic—alive—morphing into shifting shapes and colors. Music played through the space, drifting from jazz to R&B to rock and then to genres she didn’t even recognize.

As she moved through the ship, she found some areas strangely familiar. Certain rooms carried a mid-century aesthetic, while others were quite classy—an eclectic blend of early 21st-century modern styles fused with hyper-cybernetic touches.

Oddly enough, Massia liked it. It was different—refreshing even—not the cookie-cutter coldness she expected. She soon stepped into a room unlike any she’d seen.

It was large, anchored by an oversized sofa facing a long panoramic window. On each side of the sofa stood diamond-shaped end tables. Across from it hung a massive screen that displayed constantly shifting colors. To the right stood a gold metal shelf lined with books, crystal figurines of varying shapes and hues, and a radio that looked like a retro 1950s design fused with cybernetics, all in rose gold tones.

She walked deeper into the room and found a door. When she touched it, it slid open to reveal a huge bedroom—a fusion of 1920s Art Deco and 1970s Eclectic Retro, with cybernetic accents in rose gold, silver, and pastel red. A square bed rested on a round platform. The headboard held two touchscreen panels, and glowing orb lamps sat on nightstands on either side.

The vanity was rectangular with a half-moon mirror. To the right was a long sofa with a small table. The bathroom continued the same aesthetic, featuring a soaking tub and an extended vanity.

“Wow,” Massia whispered—the only word she could muster.

As she stepped back into the living area, an unusual sensation washed over her. Not foreboding, but welcoming. Still… strange.

“This is only one of the many things I want to give you, *ma Diamant Étoile Brillante*,” said a male voice.

The voice was unusual, yet soft—romantic—and with a hint of dominance. Not controlling, but sensual.

“All this… for me?” Massia asked.

“Yes, my Bright Star. For you,” the voice murmured.

Massia looked around but saw no one.

“We will meet very soon.”

◾◾◾◾

Massia awoke and slowly sat up.

The dream had been strange—odd, even—but it clung to her in a way she couldn’t quite shake. As she replayed it in her mind, she realized how *at home* she had felt. Everything in it had been welcoming, and she’d enjoyed the eccentricity of the setting and atmosphere. Nothing about it was normal, but it didn’t feel foreign either. She wished she hadn’t woken up; she would have loved to explore more of that unusual spaceship and meet the man whose voice she had heard.

Suddenly, her smartphone rang. It was Sabine. Massia answered and put it on speaker.

“Hello, Sabine—you’re on speaker,” Massia said.

“Hey, Sia. How would you like to attend a fashion show?” Sabine asked.

“What designer?” Massia asked.

“Lorelle Janos,” said Sabine.

Massia smirked.

“I know, go ahead and laugh,” Sabine said with a giggle. “Pierce almost died laughing when we got the invite. He even joked that she’s a has-been designer whose glory days ended over ten years ago.”

Massia burst into laughter.

“Sab, your husband is horrible,” Massia said as she continued laughing.

“Don’t I know it,” Sabine replied. “And yet, I love my *Cariño Pícaro*.”

“Yes, you do. The man is a hot mess,” Massia said.

“I heard that!” Pierce called out in the background.

Sabine and Massia giggled.

“So, what collection is she showing off?” Massia asked.

“Her men’s line—*Thornwood Avenue*. She has a new male model who’s the face of it,” said Sabine.

“Oh?” Massia replied.

“Yeah… and Pierce says he’s an android,” Sabine added.

Massia sighed. “And how does he know that?”

“I asked him the same thing. He’ll have to explain it to you, because the explanation he gave me made absolutely no sense,” Sabine said.

Massia giggled at that.

“Anyway, when is this fashion show?” she asked.

“Tonight,” said Sabine.

“Count me in. Now I’m curious,” Massia said.

“Be prepared to be disappointed,” Pierce chimed in.

Again, Sabine and Massia burst into laughter.

5

Vine Hall was the venue chosen to host the Thornwood Avenue fashion show. The huge, one-story building could hold up to 1,000 people; however, only 690 actually showed up. Backstage, male models hurried to and from the runway, rushing back to the dressing room to change. Lorelle stood in a cordoned-off space where she was dressing March—her hands lingering on him a little too sensually.

“It’s too bad I only have your basic functions activated,” she murmured. “Maybe after the show, I’ll reprogram you for pleasure.”

The ethereal alien being residing within March waited patiently. Yet the thought of Lorelle touching him filled him with unease. In his mind, he kept calculating possible ways to escape from her fashion studio without being detected.

Soon Margo walked in.

“Lorelle, it’s almost time for March to make his debut,” she said in an unenthusiastic tone.

Lorelle turned to her. “Can’t you be a little excited about March?” she asked. “He’s going to change everything.”

Margo simply shrugged and walked away.

Lorelle turned back to March.

“Don’t mind her. As I said, you’re going to change everything.”

Indeed, everything would change—though not in the way Lorelle expected.

◾◾◾◾

Sabine, Pierce, and Massia sat in the audience and, like everyone else there, they were not impressed with the fashion show. The music was tired, the models were simply that—models—handsome men showcasing clothes that weren’t even stylish. In fact, the entire collection felt like a rehash of Lorelle’s old men’s line, *Rome Ares*—a collection so dull and uninspiring that comedians had a year’s worth of material from it.

Massia yawned and shifted in her seat.

“I told you you’d be disappointed,” Pierce said.

“No kidding,” Massia replied.

Sabine shook her head. “Woman, either hand over the reins of your company to someone else or dissolve it already.”

“I think Lorelle would rather dissolve it than hand it over,” Pierce said.

Massia scoffed. “It would be better if she did. This collection is obviously a redo of *Rome Ares,* and that line was dull.”

“It wasn’t just dull—it was a walking snooze in the park,” Pierce added.

Sabine and Massia burst into giggles.

“Darling, behave,” Sabine said, smiling.

Pierce grinned back at her. “I’m trying, my Lovely Rose... but it’s hard when the show is like watching paint dry.”

Massia covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. Sabine palmed her face and leaned against Pierce, still giggling.

When Massia finally composed herself, she looked at Pierce. “You are a hot mess,” she said with a smile.

“That he is,” Sabine agreed as she sat up. Pierce merely shrugged and grinned.

The three turned their attention back to the runway just as it was time for the finale. The music shifted to the 20th-century song *‘I’m Too Sexy,’* and out stepped March. He wore exactly what Lorelle had dressed him in: a black leather blazer, a white turtleneck sweater, dark jeans, and hiking boots.

The crowd immediately took notice and began to buzz—not about the outfit, but about March himself.

◾◾◾◾

The after-party was just as boring as the fashion show—lame music and even lamer people. Despite the harsh comments Pierce, Sabine, and Massia had made about the clothes, the comments they overheard from the guests about one another were far worse—cattier and downright mean.

“This is why I avoid coming to fashion shows,” Sabine muttered.

“I don’t blame you,” Massia said. “I’ve heard some of the uglier things people are saying about each other.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard a few about me,” Sabine said.

“Yeah, but I don’t agree with them. And there are plenty of others who don’t agree with the nasty things said about you or your hair studio,” Massia replied.

Sabine smiled. “Those are the ones with good taste—people who actually think outside the box.”

Massia grinned. “Nothing wrong with being a glamorous weirdo, as you always say.”

Pierce soon walked up to them, wearing a ridiculous grin.

“Pierce, what’s with the grin?” Sabine asked.

“I was coming from the men’s room and happened to walk past Lorelle. She was fussing over March—dressing him up and talking to him. The dude had that blank look on his face. No doubt he’s an android,” Pierce said.

“And explain to me again how you think he’s an android?” Massia asked.

“All androids have that weird, empty look in their eyes—like something’s missing. And they always have this too-perfect demeanor that tells of their robotic origin,’” Pierce said.

Just then, Lorelle swept into the room with March on her arm. He was dressed in a black-blue suit paired with a light gray shirt, a matching tie, and black shoes.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” she shouted, and the room fell quiet.

“I would like to introduce March, the face of Thornwood Avenue,” Lorelle announced as she gazed at him proudly. But March continued staring straight ahead as people gathered around.

“March, what’s your last name?” someone asked.

“Better yet, what kind of name is March?” another chimed in.

The ethereal alien inside March became overwhelmed by the noise—the rapid questions, the shouting, the pounding music. It was too much. Instinctively, he shut March down.

“Is he asleep?” someone asked as they noticed March’s eyes had closed.

Pierce snickered.

“Looks like your hubby was right,” Massia whispered.

“Yeah,” Sabine said, both women looking surprised.

“We’d better make ourselves scarce,” Pierce said. “Poo-poo is about to hit the fan.”

Sabine and Massia nodded, and the three quietly slipped out of the party.

◾◾◾◾

The next day, the news and social media were flooded with one story: March—the new male model for Lorelle Janos’ fashion company—was an android. Strangely enough, the revelation didn’t ruin Lorelle’s reputation. If anything, it helped her… though not in the way she expected.

Other fashion brands suddenly wanted March for their own promotions and were willing to pay top dollar. Fashion photographers and editors clamored to feature him in their editorials. Seeing these offers as a massive financial windfall, Lorelle decided she would “rent” March out to other companies, naming herself his manager.

But she had rules:

A) No changing his hair color.

B) She must be allowed on set for every shoot and backstage at every show.

C) Any damages caused by negligence, mishandling, or dangerous situations would result in a hefty fee for repairs.

For months, this arrangement continued. Lorelle funneled the money into reviving her jewelry line, *Cassiopeia*, with new pieces, and relaunching her cosmetics brand, *Modieus*. But both relaunches were met with indifference, and Lorelle found herself sinking deeper into debt.

The ethereal alien being inside March watched all this with growing annoyance—not only at Lorelle’s financial recklessness, but at her constant exploitation of him. And then there were her repeated attempts to reprogram him for pleasure, attempts he continually deactivated. He realized it was now or never. He needed to escape.

Late one night, in the quiet of Lorelle’s fashion studio, March stood alone in the dressing area, surrounded by mounted security cameras. Lorelle was in her office, and he could hear that she was asleep. Seizing the opportunity, the ethereal being telekinetically shut off the cameras and temporarily disabled the security system.

A soft glow began radiating from March, growing brighter until it completely engulfed him.

The next morning, Lorelle awoke on the chaise lounger she’d slept on. She showered, dressed, and stepped out of her office—only to find that March was gone. Panic surged through her.

Why hadn’t the alarm gone off?

She rushed back into her office, turned on her computer, and pulled up the security footage. But there was nothing. Every camera was blinking offline.

“How?” she whispered.

Then her eyes narrowed.

“Someone stole him. March is mine,” she said through clenched teeth. “And I will get him back.”

◾◾◾◾

“Someone stole him?” Massia said, stunned.

She was having lunch with Sabine and Pierce at a local café. Pierce was laughing hysterically while Sabine nodded with a resigned expression. News had already spread that March had been stolen from Lorelle.

“Sab, tell me you’re joking,” Massia said, smirking.

Sabine snickered. “Nope. I’m not.”

Pierce was laughing so loudly—and smacking the table so hard—that several people began staring. Sabine and Massia ignored the looks. After a moment, Pierce finally composed himself and wiped away a tear.

“Who in the world would want to steal an android?” Massia asked.

“I have a few theories,” Sabine said. “It wasn’t a secret that March—the android—made a big impression. She was renting him out to other fashion brands and production companies willing to pay big money. But according to a lot of people, she was a huge ‘B’ about it. The rules she had weren’t completely unreasonable, but she was a pain in the rear at photo shoots and backstage. She wanted to dictate what he wore and how he was posed. Plenty of people tried to buy March from her, and she refused every time.”

Massia raised an eyebrow.

“So instead of just going to Perfect Companions and buying their own version of ‘March,’ someone steals him from her? That’s… kind of stupid.”

“That it is,” Pierce said. “Whoever stole him probably doesn’t have the programming manual he came with. Perfect Companions insists that anyone who buys an android must use read it, and they strongly discourage handing androids over to people who didn’t purchase them. All customers sign an agreement: if they ever lose interest in their android, they must deactivate it and notify Perfect Companions to retrieve it—no questions asked.”

Massia looked at Pierce and laughed. “Seeing how you’re a lawyer, I’m not surprised you know all this.”

“It was my firm that wrote the agreement,” Pierce said with a grin. “Believe me, it took all my self-control not to slip in a few jokes.”

Sabine shook her head fondly at him.

“Whoever stole him needs to give him back. Lorelle won’t stop until he’s found,” she said.

“Whoever took him better be ready for the police to come knocking,” Pierce said. “Every android has a tracking chip. Lorelle only has to activate it, and it will lead the police straight to the thief. Because stolen units can be used to commit crimes. Stealing an android comes with a twenty-year stretch in a federal prison.”

Massia palmed her face, shaking her head.

“Exactly my thoughts, Sia,” Sabine said. “Woe to the person stupid enough to steal March.”

Flashback

January 5th, 2150 — A brilliant, glowing light streaked through space, heading toward Earth. Once it entered Earth’s atmosphere, it shifted into a small radiant orb that sped through countless cities and towns, absorbing, learning, and storing everything it observed.

A few people witnessed the phenomenon and attempted to photograph or record it. However, every photo came out blurry, and every recording dissolved into static.

The glowing orb continued its journey—city to city, town to town, country to country. Eventually it arrived in America and settled in the city of Novalis, formed long ago from the former California regions of Marin, Sonoma, and Napa. The orb felt strangely at home there and decided to linger.

During one of its nightly trips through the city, the orb felt something unexpected: loneliness. It drifted toward the home of Massia Le Prince.

Making itself invisible, it peered through the windows of her house. It slipped inside through the chimney, and once within the quiet warmth of her home, it finally saw her clearly. To the orb, she shone like a star—radiant, distinct, and extraordinary in a way only it could truly understand. And in that moment, it fell in love with her.

After leaving her home, it devoted itself to helping her in any way it could. Anything she needed, it provided—though Massia assumed it was simply her uncle’s generosity.

Now, in the month of November, the orb decided it needed to be with her physically. But to do that, it required a body. Taking on a human form was impossible, but it could inhabit an artificial one. And so, it traveled to Perfect Companions, where it entered the android known as March.

6

Night had settled over the city of Novalis, and it was beautiful—every light shimmering brilliantly against the dark sky.

Astro-Sphere, a three-story disco blending retro 1970s style with futuristic flair, pulsed with color. Flashing lights streaked across the dance floor while electronic disco music vibrated through the air. Massia, Sabine, and Pierce moved with the crowd. Joining them were Pierce’s sister, Réjane, and her husband, Ethan. Réjane mirrored her brother’s features, though she was full and curvy like Sabine and Massia. Ethan towered beside her with his deep bronze complexion, long wavy black hair, and striking green eyes.

Tonight, Massia was far outside her comfort zone—and she was loving it. She wore a knee-length, long-sleeve black sequin dress with matching heels and a silver choker at her neck. What stood out most was the shoulder-length white wig she had chosen for the night. Sabine and Réjane smiled as they watched her finally let herself be free. Sabine wore a calf-length blue halter dress with rhinestone heels, while Réjane stunned in a pink strapless dress that hugged her curves, paired with white pumps. Both Ethan and Pierce were dressed in suits—Ethan in dark gray and Pierce in classic black.

After spending some time on the dance floor, the group split up. The men headed to the bar, while the women made their way to the ladies’ room on the basement level.

Despite enjoying herself, Massia had been feeling strangely off all night, though she couldn’t explain why. Still, it wasn’t enough to ruin her mood. She stepped out of the ladies’ room and waited on the staircase for Sabine and Réjane. That odd sensation washed over her again—not ominous, but strong enough to make her shiver. Instinctively, she glanced around and then upward.

On the third set of steps, she noticed someone.

A man stood there dressed in a white iridescent suit and a black satin button-down shirt. His complexion was smooth and medium-fair, and his hair was striking—black with blonde streaks. There was something unusual about him, a soft masculine grace that she found instantly mesmerizing. When he smiled, a mischievous, boyish charm lit his face, and it made Massia smile back without thinking.

The man descended the steps toward her.

“Hello,” he said softly.

Massia felt her breath catch. “Hello,” she replied, her voice unsteady.

“May I say,” he murmured, “that you are beautiful. You shine… like a star.”

His voice was unlike any she had ever heard—melodic, hypnotic, each word caressed with an otherworldly resonance.

“Normally,” she said, trying to steady herself, “I’d assume someone was being overly charming with a line like that. But… for some reason, I feel sincerity in your words.”

He stepped closer, his presence warm and strangely comforting.

“That is because I meant every word,” he said.

Only then did she notice his eyes—one an iridescent blue, the other an ethereal green. They glowed faintly, as if lit from within. His suit only enhanced the unearthly shimmer of them.

Everything about him whispered of something beyond human…it made her curious.

“What’s your name?” she asked softly.

“Valentine Maris,” he replied, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Unusual name,” she said.

“Do you not like it?” he asked, tilting his head with gentle curiosity.

Massia smiled. “Actually…I do.”

Valentine’s lips curved before he took her hand and brushed a slow, reverent kiss across her knuckles.

“Ahem!”

Massia turned to see Réjane and Sabine standing a few steps away, both wearing knowing smiles.

“Gonna introduce us to your new friend, Sia?” Réjane asked, grinning.

Valentine shifted his attention toward them. “I’m Valentine Maris,” he said warmly.

Réjane and Sabine exchanged puzzled looks.

“Quite the unusual name,” Réjane murmured.

“I like it,” Massia said, almost instinctively slipping her arm through Valentine’s.

Sabine’s eyes widened at the gesture.

Valentine glanced down at Massia, his smile softening. “May I spend the rest of this night in your company?” he asked gently.

“Yes,” Massia said without hesitation. “You can.”

Réjane and Sabine watched as Massia and Valentine walked up the stairs together, their steps perfectly in sync.

“Sab, did we just see what I think we saw?” Réjane whispered.

“Yes, Jane…we did,” Sabine replied. “And what’s even more surprising is how instantly taken Massia seems with him—Valentine Maris.”

“Weird name,” Réjane muttered.

“I’ll say. But then again…Massia has always been drawn to unusual things—and unusual people. Looks like this Valentine Maris fits right into that category.”

They grew quiet for a moment before Réjane spoke again.

“Keep a close eye on him.”

“Definitely,” Sabine said, and the two women hurried up the stairs after them.

◾◾◾◾

“Who’s the weirdo?” Pierce asked Sabine.

“His name is Valentine Maris,” she replied, shaking her head at Pierce’s usual tactlessness.

He, Sabine, Ethan, and Réjane were all watching Massia dance—far too close—to Valentine.

“Where did she meet him?” Ethan asked.

“Near the restrooms,” Réjane said. “Sab and I were coming out of the ladies’ room and we saw them talking. And he was standing very, very close to her.”

The four of them continued watching Massia and Valentine on the dance floor. Suddenly, David Bowie’s **“Let’s Dance”** began to play, and Valentine pulled Massia even closer. She didn’t object. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and slid her fingers through his hair. The sensation made Valentine shiver, and he tightened his hold around her.

I would like to make love to you.

Her breath stalled.

We just met.

Massia, I have watched you ever since I arrived here. I am in love with you.

Massia suddenly realized she was having a telepathic conversation with Valentine. Panic rushed through her and she pulled away.

“Massia, please don’t be afraid,” he said softly.

“Wait— I never told you my name. So how do you know it?” she said, her voice trembling.

“Massia, please. If you let me explain…” Valentine’s eyes held desperation, worry, and—unexpectedly—genuine affection.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“Someone who has fallen madly in love with you,” he said, gently taking her hands. “And someone who will do anything and everything to make sure you are happy, safe, and well.”

“Sia, are you okay?” Sabine asked as she walked up.

Massia turned to her. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Then she faced Valentine again before shifting her attention back to Sabine.

“Sabine… I wouldn’t ask this lightly. But I need you to trust me.” Massia swallowed. “Valentine isn’t human. Don’t ask me how I know—just trust that I do. And outside of Pierce, Réjane, and Ethan… no one else can know.”

Sabine studied her. She could see that Massia wasn’t hiding anything—she was frightened, sincere, and absolutely certain.

“You got it,” Sabine said softly.

Without another word, Valentine took Massia’s hand, and together they left the club.

“Sab, what’s going on? Where’s Massia going with that Valentine dude?” Pierce asked as he, Réjane, and Ethan hurried over.

Sabine looked at them seriously.

“For a moment… open your minds to the idea that there’s more to the universe than we think.”

“Meaning?” Ethan asked.

“Aliens,” Sabine said.

The single word left Réjane, Ethan, and Pierce speechless for a moment—then…

“Are you serious, Sab?” Réjane asked.

Sabine nodded.

A curious look spread across Pierce’s face.

“Carino… what is it?” Sabine asked.

“I have the strangest feeling I know exactly what happened to Lorelle Janos’ beloved ‘March,’” he said with a smirk.

The four of them said nothing more.

◾◾◾◾

Novalis Observatory was closed for the night—at least, the inside was. The outdoor grounds, however, remained open to the public, softly lit with path lights and watched over by discreet security cameras. Valentine and Massia walked hand in hand along the winding paths, both of them gazing up at the night sky. Neither spoke at first.

“Where are you from?” Massia finally asked.

Valentine smiled. “As cliché as it may sound… a galaxy far from this one. I traveled a long way.”

“Why did you leave your home?” she asked.

“Curiosity. Restlessness. Adventure,” he said. “I wanted to see worlds beyond my own—to learn from them.”

“And what have you learned?” Massia asked.

“Far too much to fit into simple words,” Valentine replied with a soft laugh. “It would take a lifetime to explain everything I’ve seen… everything I’ve come to understand.”

Massia turned toward him, and he met her gaze. They slowed, then stopped in the center of the observatory’s quiet garden. The night wind carried the faint scent of jasmine as they faced each other.

“Do you have an actual name?” she asked.

Valentine’s smile deepened. “Only the one the Cosmoius has given me.”

Massia lifted a brow. “Do you mean… God?”

He nodded once.

She considered pressing further, but something in her heart warned her gently not to pry too deeply—not yet. Valentine reached forward and brushed his fingers along her cheek. Massia shivered at the feather-light touch, drawn helplessly into the glow of his mismatched eyes.

“Ask your question, Massia,” Valentine said. His voice had shifted—soft, resonant, almost vibraphonic—as though layered with distant echoes.

“Is this how you really look?” she whispered.

“No,” he said. “My true form is non-corporeal—an energy of light without shape. Yet I am sentient… and I feel.”

“Then you can’t take physical form on your own?” she asked.

“No. I cannot.”

Massia glanced over him, from his strange hair to the iridescence of his gaze. “Then how did you acquire this body?”

Valentine’s expression gentled. “Allow me to show you. But not here.”

Massia nodded, trusting him more than she expected to.

Together, they left the observatory.

◾◾◾◾

They arrived at an abandoned two-story warehouse that, from the outside, looked every bit as forsaken as its reputation. Inside, however, Massia was stunned to find it fully powered, complete with electricity and running water. It was furnished with a working kitchen and a cozy living room. A metal staircase led to the second floor, where a bedroom overlooked the space below. The entire interior was an eclectic blend of décor from different eras, seamlessly mixed with sleek 22nd-century technology. Despite its unusual character—perhaps because of it—Massia found herself captivated.

“I take it you approve of my domain?” Valentine asked.

Massia turned to him, smiling. “Yes. I like your ‘domain,’ as you call it.”

Valentine chuckled, knowing she found his choice of words amusing.

“Would you prefer I call it a domicile?” he teased.

Massia arched a brow.

“It’s your home—call it whatever you want. No judgment from me. But if you talk like that around people who don’t know what you are, you might give yourself away.”

Valentine simply nodded his understanding.

“You mentioned showing me how you acquired your physical form,” Massia reminded him.

“Massia… what I’m about to reveal may startle you. Please don’t be alarmed.”

She nodded.

A bright light suddenly enveloped him. Before her eyes, Valentine’s features began to shift—his black-and-blonde hair fading into dark blond, his ethereal two-tone eyes becoming green-gray. When the light dissolved, Massia gasped.

Standing before her was March—Lorelle Janos’ missing android model.

“You… ‘stole’ March?” she asked, bewildered.

“Not exactly. I was already inside March when Madam Lorelle purchased him. I had hoped you would be the one to buy him.”

Massia stared, thinking back.

“You know… when I visited Perfect Companions, I felt like someone was watching me. And I was strangely drawn to March when I stood in front of him. Now I understand why. I think I sensed you… inside.”

He smiled softly.

“There’s much about you, Massia Le Prince. More than you realize—at least, more than you consciously know.”

“Are you saying I’m like you?” she asked.

“There is far more to the universe than humanity comprehends. People have tried to unlock its secrets for ages, but some things will only reveal themselves in time—and even then, not fully.”

She studied him. “Is Valentine Maris your real name?”

His smile was answer enough.

Massia placed her hands on her hips, looking him up and down. He raised an eyebrow.

“Like what you see, Bright Diamond?” he asked.

“Bright Diamond?” she echoed.

“Massia, when I look at you, I don’t just see a beautiful woman. I see a radiant being who shines brilliantly. To me, you are a Bright Diamond—a Diamond Star.”

His words were sincere and unexpectedly poetic, touching something deep within her. She smiled.

“Your words are beautiful,” she whispered. “And yes… I like what I see.”

He stepped closer and gently cupped her face in his hands.

“I would give you anything you desire. Whatever your heart longs for, I will make sure you have it.”

“Well,” she said, eyes narrowing with curiosity, “right now I want to know how you changed March from a dark-blond, green-gray-eyed android into… you—the uniquely handsome man with two-tone eyes and black-and-blonde streaked hair.”

“Although I have no true physical form,” he explained, “I can enter artificial vessels like March. When I ‘vanished’ from Lorelle’s studio, I knew she would search for him. So I altered his appearance—morphing the vessel into the form you now see.”

“So, you can transform metal and circuitry?” she asked.

“Yes. I can transform anything—organic or inorganic. Allow me to demonstrate.”

He walked over to the coffee table and picked up a glass vase.

As he held it, Massia watched a soft glow bloom around his hands. The vase shifted—from glass to terracotta, then to black marble—before returning to its original glass form. He set it gently back onto the table.

“Do you have any limitations or weaknesses?” she asked.

“If you’re wondering whether I can die—no, I cannot. I’ve lived for many centuries. As for limitations while inside this android body, I have none. The only things I am forbidden to do are kill except in self-defense or in defense of others, and I cannot intentionally harm anyone. These are the commandments of the Cosmoius.”

“And if you *did*…kill out of malice? Or intentionally hurt someone? What would happen?” Massia asked.

“I would be required to leave Earth and return to the galaxy I came from. And I would never again be permitted to travel.”

“Even if you were remorseful and wanted to atone?”

“I am allowed to seek forgiveness—and it would be granted—but I would still have to leave.”

Massia fell quiet, absorbing his words.

“Is your curiosity satisfied, Bright Star?” he asked.

Massia smiled softly. “Yes, it is.”

“I sense you’re calmer now, though burdened by everything you’ve learned.”

“I am more at ease,” she admitted. “And yes, it is a lot to take in. It means I’ll have to be careful about what I tell my friends. Though honestly, the four of them can be trusted—especially since I already told Sabine you’re an alien, and she believed me.”

“If it helps, I sense your friends are indeed trustworthy. And I trust you.”

He stepped closer and brushed his fingers across her cheek.

Massia wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I like Valentine Maris.”

He smiled—and shimmered back into the form of Valentine Maris.

“You’ve always admired strange things,” he murmured. "Ordinary life bores you. The unusual draws you in, inspires you—but you avoid anything that crosses too far into the bizarre. You live on the threshold…one foot in, one foot out. You do not fit into a single category.”

“And I don’t try to,” she said.

They stood there, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Stay with me tonight,” he said softly.

“Of course.”

He took her hand and led her upstairs.

7

It had been five months since *March* disappeared from Lorelle’s fashion studio. The police detectives informed her that if he hadn’t been found by now, he was most likely destroyed. Out of options, Lorelle decided to purchase another male android from Perfect Companions—but she requested that it be modeled to look exactly like March.

When “March 2.0” arrived at her studio, Lorelle immediately set about programming him—not only to obey her alone, but also to pleasure her. She also attempted to “rent” him out to other fashion brands. By this time, however, most brands were no longer interested. The few who were still willing insisted she stay off the photo-shoot sets and restricted her backstage access during fashion shows.

On this particular day, Lorelle brought March 2.0 into Sabine’s hair and cosmetics studio. Sabine was stunned when she saw her walk in.

“Hello, Lorelle. What can I do for you?” Sabine asked.

“March needs extensions for a photo shoot, and apparently there’s no other salon in the city willing to work on him. The idea of giving an android hair extensions is beneath them,” she said in an irritated tone.

“How long do you want the extensions?” Sabine asked.

“To his back—and make sure they match his hair perfectly. I’m paying you top dollar to make him look great. I don’t want your half-assed slop,” Lorelle snapped.

Sabine raised an eyebrow but kept her composure.

“Follow me, please,” she said.

Lorelle and March 2.0 followed her to a styling chair. After he sat, Sabine brought out her sample rings and held various shades against his hair, searching for the perfect match. When she finally found one, she confirmed it with Lorelle before beginning her work.

Meanwhile, Massia and Valentine arrived.

Everyone in the salon stared in awe at Valentine. With his black hair streaked in blonde and his mismatched eyes, he stood out instantly.

Sabine looked up and smiled.“Hey, Sia.”

“Hey, Sab,” Massia replied as she and Valentine walked over.

Valentine glanced around, taking in the lively atmosphere of the salon—then his gaze settled on March 2.0 sitting in the chair. His eyes flicked briefly toward Lorelle before returning to the android. He wasn’t surprised she’d had a duplicate made. Lorelle had been dependent on the original March once she realized people were more interested in him than in her designs. He had been her shortcut to fame, wealth, and a revived reputation.

Lorelle, too focused on the extensions being added to March 2.0’s hair, hadn’t even noticed Massia and Valentine enter.

“So, Val, what do you think of my salon?” Sabine asked.

“I like it,” he said.

Only then did Lorelle look up. Her eyes widened.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

Valentine turned to her calmly. “I am Valentine Maris.”

Lorelle swept toward him, circling him like a vulture. Massia rolled her eyes while Sabine simply shrugged.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Valentine asked, irritation in his voice.

“Because you’re beautiful,” Lorelle said breathlessly. “Your eyes, your hair, your entire look—you’re exactly what I need to relaunch my men’s line, *Thornwood Avenue*.”

Valentine let out a short laugh.

“Madam, I know who you are. Lorelle Janos. I know your reputation, and I’ve seen all your clothing lines. Forgive me for being blunt, but… you’ve passed your prime.”

The salon erupted—some gasped, others giggled. Lorelle’s jaw dropped.

“Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that?” she demanded, furious.

Valentine simply looked at her, his mismatched eyes cool and unimpressed.

“You could be the face of countless campaigns,” Lorelle pressed.

“Madam, I have no interest in being the face of anything,” he replied calmly. “I am quite content with my own endeavors.”

“And what endeavors might those be?” she asked with a smirk.

“I am an investor,” Valentine said. “I’ve placed investments in several companies—Vero Tech, Selenity Wellness, and Proxima Energy among them. Those ventures have paid off well, leaving me comfortably well-off.”

Sabine glanced at Massia and mouthed, *Is that true?* Massia smiled and nodded. Sabine grinned and returned to her work. Lorelle, meanwhile, stood stiffly—annoyed, insulted, and increasingly agitated.

“Well then…perhaps you should put that money to better use,” Lorelle said sharply. “Such as investing in my fashion company.”

“I’ve already invested in a fashion business,” Valentine said evenly. “Right here.” He gestured toward Sabine’s salon.

Sabine froze and turned to look at him, eyes widening. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Massia said. “It’s actually why we came by today. We already talked to Pierce, and he thinks it’s a fantastic idea.”

Sabine rushed forward, hugging Massia and then Valentine. “This is wonderful.”

“Of course,” Valentine said warmly. “Anything for my beloved and for the friends she trusts—and whom I trust as well. I consider all of you my friends.”

Sabine’s eyes softened. “Well, we all feel the same. Especially seeing how you’ve brought Massia out of her shell…you’ve brought out the best in her.”

“Ahem!”

All three turned as Lorelle cleared her throat pointedly.

“Can you please finish with *March*?” she snapped.

Sabine said nothing and resumed attaching the extensions to March 2.0’s hair. Lorelle, however, fixed Valentine with a narrow-eyed glare.

“I always get what I want,” she said coldly. “Remember that.”

“I shall,” Valentine replied with a slight bow of his head. “Not as a warning, but as a reminder that you are a self-centered, clueless woman who has lost touch with the true art of fashion.”

A chorus of soft “ooohs” rippled through the salon.

Massia said nothing as she glanced at Sabine, who was clearly fighting to hold back a laugh.

Lorelle shot Valentine a narrow-eyed look before sinking into a chair in the waiting area, arms crossed.

“Val, my love… I think we should go for now,” Massia suggested gently.

“Yes. We can go over the investment details at dinner tonight,” Valentine replied.

Sabine nodded with a bright smile. “Sounds like a plan. My place with Pierce—seven p.m.?”

Valentine smiled warmly. “We’ll see you then.”

As Valentine and Massia stepped out of the salon, Lorelle was anything but pleased. Who did this Valentine Maris think he was to criticize her? He knew nothing about her. She would show him. She would show everyone.

Lorelle Janos would rise again.

…Or so she believed.

◾◾◾◾

March 2.0 had not been a success. In fact, people had lost interest in him entirely. Their attention had shifted to a new android unit created by Perfect Companions called the “FxAsH1.” It was designed specifically for fashion brands—an idea inspired by Lorelle’s habit of ‘renting out’ the original March. These androids came with simple programmable instructions that didn’t require a manual.

The FxAsH1 model was available in different heights and could be customized to match the aesthetic a fashion brand wanted. It was also quite affordable due to its minimal programming. Many fashion houses purchased these units in large quantities. However, for the average person seeking a cheap android companion, the FxAsH1 proved disappointing, as it couldn’t be programmed beyond its preset functions; strict limits prevented any additional customization.

Lorelle watched with quiet fury as successful fashion brands snatched up the new units while her precious March 2.0 was ignored and forgotten.

Margo stepped into Lorelle’s office.

“Miss Janos,” Margo said.

Lorelle lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at her assistant.

“The Minerva Group has made an offer to buy the company. They’re willing to pay one hundred million dollars,” Margo reported.

Lorelle scoffed. “My company is worth far more than that. The years of hard work I’ve put into every collection… One hundred million dollars is an insult.”

“Well,” Margo continued carefully, “Perfect Companions also called. They have an offer for you. They’re willing to hire you to design clothes for their FxAsH1 line. They’re also willing to redesign March for you.”

Those words sparked an idea in Lorelle’s mind.

“Tell Perfect Companions that I accept their offer, including the redesign of March. However, I want to rename him, and I want a percentage of the profits for every unit sold wearing my designs.”

Margo silently admitted that Lorelle’s demands were actually a smart move. Deep down, she knew it wouldn’t restore Lorelle to the status she desperately desired. But it was better than nothing. There were still people who appreciated Lorelle’s earlier work. In truth, it was a win—albeit a very small one.

◾◾◾◾

The FxAsH1 line was a success for Perfect Companions, and Lorelle finally got her redesign of March. Yet when Margo saw the result, she stared at Lorelle as if she had completely lost her mind.

March had gone from a dark-blonde, green-gray–eyed Adonis to a strangely elegant figure with black hair streaked in blonde, mismatched blue and green eyes, and a face that leaned almost—and unnervingly—feminine.

“Lorelle, what have you done to March?” she asked.

Lorelle smiled. “Margo, meet *Marquess*.”

“Lorelle… why did you have March redesigned to look like this?” Margo asked, her voice tight with disappointment and confusion.

“There’s a man who looks exactly like Marquess,” Lorelle said. “I tried to get him to model for me. He turned me down—and insulted me. So this is my way of showing him that I always get what I want.”

Margo let out a long sigh. “Lorelle… you’re trying to get this man’s attention, aren’t you?”

Lorelle only turned and gave her a dazzling smile.

“He could sue you!” Margo burst out.

“Let him. That would just open the door for negotiations,” Lorelle said, still smiling.

Margo shook her head. She had a sinking feeling that Lorelle’s bold plan was about to spectacularly backfire.

8

“Oh, hell no!” Réjane exclaimed.

She, Sabine, and Massia stood in Sabine’s salon, shaking their heads in disbelief. On the screen was a live broadcast of Perfect Companions unveiling their FxAsH1 line, dressed in outfits designed by Lorelle Janos. What had them stunned was Lorelle’s android companion—recreated to look exactly like Valentine.

“This heifer has the unbelievable nerve to redesign her robotic sex toy to look like Val. She has lost her mind,” Réjane said.

“Sabine and I did tell you that she made an offer for Val to work for her,” Massia added. “She was furious when he turned her down.”

“And unsurprisingly, she redesigned her March 2.0 to look like him. Probably to get his attention,” Sabine said.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s gotten it,” Massia replied. “But it’s not going to go the way she thinks.”

Sabine and Réjane exchanged a look at Massia’s ominous tone.

“Meaning?” Sabine asked.

Massia’s eyes shifted from them back to the screen.

“Valentine has a remarkable way of ensuring things never unfold the way people expect,” she said. “Take Lorelle Janos—she’s hoping he’ll file a lawsuit. A lawsuit would pull him into her orbit, giving her the chance to negotiate some kind of deal that puts him at her feet. But he’s not going to give her that. Valentine is… very versatile.”

Sabine and Réjane looked at each other again. Massia’s words made sense, and there was nothing more to say.

◾◾◾◾

Valentine saw on the screen exactly what everyone else was seeing. He wasn’t angry, but he was certainly annoyed—though not surprised. There she was, the ever-ridiculous Lorelle Janos, on a live broadcast beside her redesigned March, now made to look exactly like him.

Truthfully, he found it a little flattering that she had copied his appearance; he even chuckled.

But it only confirmed what he already understood: for every human like Massia and her friends—those who recognized his unusual visage for what it was, a glimpse of an otherworldly nature he could never fully reveal—there were many who only saw the surface. To them, his appearance was a novelty, something to possess, to use, to exploit, and eventually discard.

Valentine looked around his home and knew the time had come to leave it behind. He closed his eyes and slowly lifted his head. A bright light burst around him, expanding rapidly until it swallowed him whole. He shifted into his true form—an orb of radiant energy.

He zigzagged wildly through the building, the force of his movement tearing through everything in his path, before shooting toward the window. Glass exploded outward as he launched himself into the sky, streaking upward like a comet.

All things are ready… now I just need to bring Massia.

◾◾◾◾

It was nighttime, and inside the townhouse Massia called home, she slept peacefully. Outside, a figure approached the front door. He glanced up, noting the camera in the corner, and smiled in quiet amusement. With a wave of his hand over the digital lock, it clicked open. The door eased itself inward, and the figure stepped inside.

He moved silently up the stairs and into Massia’s bedroom.

He paused in the doorway, watching her for a moment before approaching the bed. Standing over her, he reached out and gently caressed her cheek.

“Massia,” he whispered. “Massia, my Bright Star…wake up.”

Massia stirred, then opened her eyes. She reached over and turned on her lamp.

The figure—now clearly a man—stood before her: tall, with short hair streaked blonde in front while the rest flowed in a deep, rich red. His skin was smooth, a light beige tone. He wore a black suit, a matching vest, and a white button-down shirt. His eyes were hidden behind dark aviator shades. Massia stared, stunned.

“Hello, my Diamond Star,” the man said in a vibraphonic, uniquely British accent.

“Valentine?” she breathed.

He removed the shades, revealing mismatched eyes—one blue, one brown. He sat beside her, smiling.

“Yes, Massia. It’s me.”

Her gaze drifted over his new appearance. Different, certainly—but still unmistakably him, with those striking eyes and that impossible hair. She smiled.

“I’m guessing this is your answer to Lorelle redesigning March?”

Valentine chuckled. “You know me too well.”

“What now?” she asked.

“Come with me, Massia.”

“Where?”

“I’ve built a place for us. You won’t be leaving your friends or the people you love. It’s simply…elsewhere. A place out of reach for those who need not know.”

“Will Sabine and Pierce, Ethan and Réjane, and my family be able to visit?” she asked, worry flickering in her eyes.

He smiled and brushed a hand along her cheek. He didn’t speak—but instead transmitted his emotions directly to her. Her expression softened.

“Fine. Within three months—they can visit,” she said.

Valentine leaned in and kissed her deeply. Massia returned the kiss, pulling him down toward her.

“We have to go, Massia,” he murmured.

“I know,” she whispered, arms wrapped around his neck.

A bright light suddenly enveloped them as they continued their passionate kiss. The glow intensified, swallowing the room—and then they vanished.

◾◾◾◾

When Massia opened her eyes, she found herself in the very room she had dreamed of months ago. In that instant, she understood—Valentine had been the one who entered her dream and showed her this place long before she set foot in it.

She slipped out of bed and walked to the closet. When she opened the doors, she gasped softly. The interior was enormous—a walk-in wardrobe with a large island of drawers in the center. Hanging neatly on the racks were dresses, blouses, pants, skirts, and shoes, each with a timeless elegance, their styles echoing the different eras reflected in her room.

Inside the island’s drawers lay jewelry crafted from the finest stones and metals—not of Earth, but beautiful all the same.

Unsure of what else to do, she chose an emerald-green halter pantsuit and white platform heels. After fixing her hair and applying her makeup, she stepped out into the hallway. As she moved further in, she realized she truly was in the place from her dream—the shifting colors on the walls, the techno-organic consoles humming softly…it was all real.

“I hope you like it, darling.”

Massia turned. Valentine stood at the end of the hall, smiling warmly. He had removed his suit jacket, and he looked impossibly handsome. She walked to him, and he took her hands, raising them to his lips for a soft kiss.

“So this is what you wanted to give me,” she said.

“Yes. Anything you want, I will give you,” he replied, his mismatched eyes fixed on hers.

She kissed him deeply, then whispered against his lips:

“I already have it…you.”

Valentine smiled as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again—slowly, passionately.

Massia wrapped her arms around his neck, losing herself in the kiss and returning it fully. When they finally broke apart, they looked at each other quietly for a long moment.

“Will you eventually have to return to your galaxy?” Massia asked.

“Yes,” he said softly. “But don’t trouble yourself with that now. Let’s focus on the present and let the future worry about itself.”

Massia smiled and nodded, and they resumed their kiss.

◾◾◾◾

It was three weeks later, and Lorelle was in her fashion studio, which was in the middle of renovations. Her deal with Perfect Companions had given her the funds not only to renovate the studio but also to relaunch several of her failed lines. Allowing the FxAsH1 androids to model her designs had made her popular again, and Marquess had quickly become a highly requested rental. His unusual appearance drew people in, and whenever she was asked what inspired the design… she mentioned Valentine Maris.

To her surprise, no one had ever heard of him. This puzzled her. She contacted the very businesses he claimed to have invested in, yet none would confirm or deny knowing him. Her curiosity growing, she hired a private investigator—only for the P.I. to return empty-handed.

“Valentine Maris… who are you?” she murmured.

Just then, Margo entered Lorelle’s office with a nervous expression.

“Margo, what’s wrong?” Lorelle asked.

Margo glanced at Marquess and then back at her employer.

“What?” Lorelle demanded.

“Lorelle… Valentine Maris is here,” Margo said.

Lorelle’s eyes lit up. Finally.

“Send him in.”

Margo stepped aside and opened the door.

“She’s waiting for you, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Lorelle smoothed her hair, preparing to meet the man she had been chasing answers about—only for her expression to twist into disbelief.

Standing before her was a man with a light beige complexion, short deep red hair streaked with blond in the front, and dressed in a dark gray suit. Behind round-frame glasses, pale blue eyes regarded her coolly.

“Who are you?” Lorelle asked.

“I am Valentine Maris,” he said in a calm, slightly menacing tone.

“You can’t be. I met Valentine Maris. I saw him with my own eyes.”

“I am very much Valentine Maris—and we have never met. Therefore, I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped using my name.” His voice was polite, but its edge was unmistakable.

He turned and walked toward Marquess. Inwardly, he was slightly impressed that the Perfect Companions designers had captured most of the features of his former visage. He removed his glasses and stared into the android’s mismatched eyes.

“I can see into your programming. Quite basic—though it’s clearly what she requested. I won’t interfere with you. Your ‘twin’ brother became my vessel, and that is enough.”

He slid his glasses back on before turning to Lorelle.

“He looks nothing like me.”

“You are not Valentine Maris!” Lorelle snapped.

Valentine walked to her desk, removed his wallet from his jacket, and displayed his ID.

“Feel free to snoop. I have nothing to hide. And for the record, Vero Tech and the other businesses you contacted told me you made inquiries—and that you became quite disappointed when they revealed nothing. It’s simple: I’m a silent partner. I do not want press. I am a private man, and I intend to remain one.”

He tucked his ID away.

“Now, do I have your word that you will stop claiming you met me—or shall we go to court?” he asked with a thin, menacing smile.

Lorelle hesitated. She considered pursuing the matter legally, perhaps even forcing Sabine to testify. But something deep inside told her to drop it. She had just regained her footing in the fashion world; she didn’t need a frivolous court battle. And with Pierce being an attorney, he’d almost certainly find a way to protect Sabine.

Lorelle exhaled. “Fine. You won’t hear from me again.”

“Very good. And good day, Miss Janos,” Valentine said before leaving the office.

Margo rushed to her side.

“Lorelle… that man freaked me out. Please tell me you meant what you said.”

“Yes, I meant it,” Lorelle replied. “But I know I’m not crazy. I met a man named Valentine Maris—and he did not look like *that*. He looked like how I had Marquess designed.”

“Maybe that man was an impostor. Not the one who just left—the one you met before,” Margo suggested.

Lorelle considered it. It made sense… mostly. Yet something still felt wrong. Something was missing. But she pushed the unease aside. Marquess belonged to her now. The only one of his kind. Unique… striking… and the key to restoring her status.

And for Lorelle, that was all that mattered.

◾◾◾◾

The grand opening of Sabine’s Glamour Studio—now expanded into a much larger building—was a complete success. There were more styling chairs, more wash basins, and even a beauty shop inside where customers could purchase hair care, cosmetics, and other items. Massia attended with Réjane, Pierce, and Ethan.

Massia was having her makeup done by Sabine when she suddenly shivered.

“Are you cold?” Sabine asked.

“No… Valentine has arrived,” Massia said.

Sabine glanced up—and sure enough, Valentine had just walked in. A puzzled, almost startled expression crossed her face. She turned back to Massia.

“How did you know he was here?” she asked.

Massia simply smiled as her brown eyes began sparkling like diamonds.

“What in the world did he do to you?” Sabine whispered.

“He shared himself with me—or rather, gave a piece of himself to me. He calls me his wife, and one day, when he has to return to his galaxy, I’ll go with him,” Massia said calmly.

“You’re leaving?” Sabine asked, worry threading her voice.

“Not now. Not in the next few days… or even years. But one day, yes. Val and I will leave,” Massia said.

“Do not trouble yourself, Sabine,” Valentine said as he approached. “As I’ve told Massia: focus on the present and let the future worry about itself.”

“Wise words… for an alien,” Sabine muttered.

Valentine only smiled as Sabine finished Massia’s makeup. Once she was done, Massia stood and she and Valentine said their goodbyes before heading outside.

In front of the building, Valentine took Massia’s hand.

“I have something for you,” he said.

“What is it?” she asked.

Valentine removed a ring box from his pocket and opened it. Inside was a stunning white gemstone ring shaped like a rhombus, with a pink, star-shaped stone set at its heart.

“Your wedding ring, my Bright Star,” he said softly. He lifted the ring, knelt, and slid it onto her finger.

“Thank you,” Massia whispered as tears spilled down her cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” he said, kissing her hand.

Massia noticed a similar ring on Valentine’s hand, except the star inside his was two tones of red. He smiled as he rose to his feet.

“I love you, my Star Prince,” she said.

“And I love you, my Star Diamond,” Valentine replied.

“Massia.”

She turned. Standing there was her former husband, Ron Fairston—average height, average build, light brown hair, fair complexion, brown eyes. Entirely ordinary… especially when standing across from Valentine. To Ron, Valentine looked more strange than impressive.

“Massia, can we talk for a moment?” Ron asked.

“No,” she said immediately.

“Massia, I’m serious,” Ron insisted.

“And I said no,” she replied, her voice sharpening.

Ron raised a brow, taken aback.

“Darling, let’s go,” Valentine said gently.

Massia linked her arm with his, and together they walked away.

“None of your business. Her chapter with you is over—keep it moving,” Réjane snapped.

Ron sighed.

For a moment, he nearly said something back—until he noticed Ethan standing right beside Réjane. Deciding that discretion was the better choice, Ron wisely kept quiet… and moved along.

Epilogue

Valentine and Massia’s home existed unseen and unknown, hovering in the vastness of space, hidden among the stars. Inside, Massia had taken Valentine’s glasses from him, revealing the mismatched colors of his eyes.

“Wonderful creation,” she said with a soft smile. “Glasses that camouflage your eyes.”

“Thank you, darling,” Valentine replied.

“Will you ever reveal any of your other creations or inventions?” Massia asked.

“My inventions are far too advanced for humanity,” he said. “They will never see them. I’m content to share them only with you—and with our friends when they visit.”

Massia smiled.

“Speaking of creations… this book you’re writing—*Palace of Diamonds*,” Valentine continued. “I’d like to help you publish it, if you’d like.”

Massia’s smile deepened. “Yes, I would. And thank you for encouraging me to dream, even when those dreams are weird and oddly shaped.”

“Bright Star,” Valentine said gently, “the most beautiful dreams are colorful and ever-shifting. They don’t cling to a single shape. Dreams are not meant to be one thing—they are many things. The best ones exist outside the box, never confined within it.”

“Then you are also my dream,” she said.

“And you are mine—the dream I searched for. One whose heart and mind were never static, but dynamic. I have inspired you, just as you have inspired me.”

Nothing more needed to be said. They simply kissed, slow and passionate, beneath the quiet shimmer of the stars.