#afterlight

Books pictured (edges only):

- Faebound by Saara El-Arifi

- Silvercloak by LK Steven

- The Phoenix Keeper by SA MacLean

- Gallant by VE Schwab

- Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

- A Gathering of Shadows by VE Schwab

- The Prospects by KT Hoffman

This dead bastard’s been haunting me for too long. Even before he was killed, Yujun’s effortless smile snagged my ire and flaunted every shred of advice I tossed at him to get him to please, please be more professional. The mess of his side of the room always creeped closer and closer to mine, possessing our shared space with useless personal affects and clothing of various states of cleanliness. He doesn’t even have to be alive to keep hogging attention. The sprawl of photographs, newspapers, and contract copies across my wall, connected by a haphazard web of red yarn, all proved that. 

Well, today, I would either throw things out or pack them up. It would finally be clean, and I could move on from all of… this. My phone started ringing, warning me of an incoming call, but I silenced it. It was time to get this over with.

Meanwhile, the perpetrator was living in the spotlight, slinging singles like her life depended on it. Could I really begrudge her that? Dalgi was smart, gathering up cards to play as she pleased. Maybe I should’ve done the same thing as her, then I’d be out there instead of in here, silenced by a short video of my own stupid, stupid trust. I’d been an idiot, outplayed by someone who I had forgotten was a prey species. I can never slip like that again. What would humanity do, knowing an ultimate predator had been in their midst all along? Would they betray me, again? 

My membrane chafed as it rubbed against the fabric of my shirt. I felt every thread in the weave and weft, each one burning with the fury of atmospheric entry. I was hungry, again. I ignored it, again. 

This wasn’t worth thinking about. It’d never happen. If Dalgi wanted me to stay quiet, which she did, she’d have to keep quiet too. So, this situation wasn’t all bad.

The buzz of my phone gave me a momentary break from this anxious reverie. I didn’t answer, of course. I was busy finally exorcising Yujun from my life. 

But it kept buzzing.

And buzzing. 

And buzzing.

What kind of needy punk wanted to get a hold of me that badly? I looked down at the screen. Right on cue, a text message from the old IEZ group chat popped up. Huh, I thought they’d abandon that? The issue of my departure aside, It was only a matter of time until Yujun’s number would go to some lucky rando, and then the whole chat would be leaked. 

But the most shocking thing was the contents of the message.

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU

WERE YOU A MONSTER THE WHOLE TIME

That… couldn’t possibly be addressed to me, right? I certainly couldn’t respond to that without drawing suspicion! Maybe they’re accusing someone…else…in the group chat of being a monster? And Dalgi would never let it slip, she needed me to keep quiet!

Unless…

Unless she didn’t.

Hurriedly, I checked the news. A new article, short and only minutes old, confirmed my biggest fear.

Dalgi had been arrested, but the article didn’t use her face as its headlining photo.

No, no. That honor was reserved for me. Open and vulnerable, captured by the grainy eye of a webcam.

I scrolled numbly through the rest of the article until I hit another image, that of Dalgi, being led away with the police. The little RGB display only spewed a pitiful portion of the electromagnetic spectrum, crunching my vision down to a human level. Though I couldn’t take advantage of any infrared or psychic cues here, a morphological analysis of her face revealed enough… no, it revealed too much. 

Both corners of her mouth, turned down. A slight unevenness in the contours of the lip, belieing a sneer. Furrowed brows. Her sclera were redder than I’d ever seen, veins burdened with blood, just like her puffy eyelids. That face was as flushed as prey. She wasn’t even looking at the camera.

I could barely recognize her. Where was her perfectly symmetrical smile? Her poise, her control, that let her keep up with me? 

What was this utterly human failure? Why did she have to slip up, and drag me down with her? There was no logic here, revealing that I was an alien wouldn’t benefit her, or anyone for that matter. It was a purely vindictive act.

Why couldn’t we keep pretending? Together, forever?

My phone kept buzzing. Call after call. My entire contact list was roaring down the antenna. They were left unanswered, abandoned in a corner of the room.

My membrane itched again, boiling. chafing. Taut. The way I bubbled and roared under the surface was ignored, just like always. I needed to keep it together.

My thoughts whispered to me, isn’t our cover blown? We could drop it all. We could go to the next planet, take a break from this disgusting humanity. But I didn’t run.

My hands returned to packing away Yujun’s things.

I had a task to do today. I was supposed to exorcise him. Whether or not his ghost had reared its head again, I’d keep him in line. Just like I did when he was alive.

I put item after item in beige boxes. Slowly, the room appeared from under his crust. 

I’d keep him in line. Just like I did when he was alive.

Emptiness filled the room. I couldn’t tell if it was working or not. My insides still trembled, but I kept myself steady.

I’d keep him in line. Just like I did when he was alive.

Yujun’s things were all put away, neatly stacked in boxes that were, themselves, neatly stacked. The room was finally cleaned.

I’d keep him in line. Just like I did when he was alive.

Searching for satisfaction, I looked between my side and his side. You could hardly tell the difference. All was set to rights, to order. Yujun could finally be as neat as me, in death.

I was as neat… as a dead man. 

Why was this what it took?

I’d spent so much energy yelling at him, telling him to clean up his act. Then I went chasing after his murderer, trying to close a case that stained my reputation. Now I’d finally cleaned him up, completely and utterly. It felt like it should be satisfying. It ought to be my reward. After all, being an idol, especially a leader, is difficult. You have to be the best of the best. You have to make sure everyone else in your group is the best of the best, so policing Yujun couldn’t be a completely bad thing, right? I was being a responsible leader.

The only other person who knew what it took, who understood it, who felt what I felt, was Dalgi. And now she’s broken… No, maybe she had been broken for a while. She beat Yujun to death with a shoe. 

Maybe it wasn’t too dissimilar to what I was trying to do to Yujun, or what I wanted to do to him. She was just more heavy-handed about it. We were perfect hammers, hitting nails that stuck out. 

The moment I revealed my nails, she brought that force against me. 

I looked between mine and Yujun’s sides of the room. Yes, save those posters, my room looked like I’d died too. Except for the music I’d abandoned my biology for, I’d lived like I’d been dead the whole time. Yujun wasn’t messy, or unprofessional, or anything else I called him. He had just been… alive. Unapologetically.

And I’d hated him for it, for doing what I couldn’t. 

The burn of my clothing throbbed yet again. I was starving. This form, this… lie! It was all for nothing! My flesh wobbled and melted. I didn’t have to keep it up anymore. I was alive. I am alive! 

Oozing out of my clothes, I spun around, the neutral walls being blotted out by colorful streaks of posters. Hundreds of eyes of the industry, watching me, sliding off me, acknowledging me and not the mask I wore. I stopped twirling and gazed into my mirror.

I stared at myself. One last time, like I did thousands of times before, I smoothed my form down into human perfection… and then let it go again. Joy bubbled through my tendrils as they slapped across the room to grab my phone, hurriedly calling back my agent. Before he got the first word in, I spoke.

“I’ve got an idea.”

— 

Music and choreography are a carefully-constructed craft, pursuing the pinnacle of beauty coded deep in human brains. I am not a human… but what I am is a being that also pursues beauty. Both of us wear masks for the adoration of others. Both of us get jealous. And both of us can lose the plot, act ugly, and now there were a few less stars in the universe for it. 

The audience is almost silent as I walk on stage, the rare cheer being more out of habit than anything else. The venue is booked full. Who could miss seeing an alien? Their eyes scan every inch of my skin, picking my human-looking form apart in a way that once terrified me, searching for a single scrap of evidence that I was that thing from Dalgi’s video. Right now, my anatomy is perfect– I’m always too perfect, to be honest. Most humans have irregularities. The visage of mine that they were familiar with was born from a billion psychic imprints, a statistical averaging of what they thought a “perfect person” ought to look like. The few skeptical fans in the crowd are wondering why I’m alone on stage, without any backup dancers.

What would Yujun say if he saw me? After all, I always brushed off his threats to go solo. I suppose he’d call me a hypocrite… but then again, I think I was a hypocrite all along. Maybe he’d agree with that, with his same left-leaning grin that infuriated me and made the fans swoon. 

I’m flashing a mirror image of his grin right now. 

“Before we start… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry to Yujun. I’m sorry to Dalgi. I’m sorry to everyone. And I’m sorry to myself. I’m done lying. Thank you.”

The first few beats of the opening song thrum through the audience. I can sense the way it vibrates their flesh, their blood, sweet with potential, as it synchronizes their heartbeats. I do not have a heart to beat alongside them, but this song is mine, set to 100 bpm. We are one.

My exterior membrane sings along in sweet relief as I finally let go of the lie. It glimmers, dances, letting light shine through and bounce back ruby-red. My clothing sloughs off, and my feet leave the floor. I can hear some people scream, and others cheer, both in earnest. 

I transform, finally, into beauty that is my own.