35
A Different Shade Of Blue

Alex wheeled his bag to an empty living room. His eyes darted around the hall and checked if anyone was around. The sun had recently shone through the windows, and the entire house was dead silent.

He trudged slowly through the carpet as his eyes became fixated on the table and a lone hypercube glowing purple. His footsteps ceased, his eyes was drawn more and more to this cube that his entire purpose was built around, but never came close with.

It’s just sitting there, within reach. No one here to stop him. No one here to pull him from understand the palooza with this object in its center. 

His reluctant fingers reached and took it in. He brought it close to his face, and he slowly took a seat on the empty felt couch while keeping his eyes on it. It glowed so purple.

Very, very purple. Then it blurred and the purple left the confines of the cube itself, before everything went dark before he found himself outside of the house.

He found himself in a bedroom. A small faux wooden desk with a radio perched on top of it. Tuned to 102.4, it played a low drone of someone talking over some sort of podcast. The bed was padded with a purple duvet with very few creases. The sun was streaming into the room, and hit the freestanding display on her desk as the keyboard light was turned off. 

The room smelled like lavender as Alex took one look at the left side of the desk, to the farthest left of her small bedroom, and saw the box of letters wrapped in various pastel-colored envelopes.

He could feel his breathing quicken, his hands slightly quaking, his heart beating itself into oblivion, as he sheepishly stretched his hand out for the tin. He quickly swiveled his head around the room to check if the owner of the room is in, and took a letter out of the box.

He pulled the sheet out of the envelope, and read.

”Hey Angel,

I never could pinpoint the moment that it hit me. Maybe it’s the eyes. Or the smile. Or how your dress fluttered when the air-con was set on high.

It’s a surreal feeling, when I know I fell for you. When I knew I only wanted to protect you unto death and cherish a person I would rally around with all my might.

He closed the sheet, the force exerted by his fingers left the smallest of creases. He reached into the box, and pulled yet another sheet from it.

”Just so you know, there is a show from the and you like. Got tickets for both of us. One of them is stapled within.”

That stub bellowed in the air-con that was fired into her room. His hand traced the perimeter of the ticket paper itself.

His eyes drifted to the ground next to him. It was a small cuboid-shaped device, a slot on the top illuminated one of those letters half-stuck through it, under it was torn to stripes, about to join the rest of the pile that had gathered there earlier. Same pastel colors. Same creamy paper. Same handwriting.

There was a large exhale. He took one look at the hypercube he has subconsciously clutched in his hand. It remained red.

That mug on the table. Black, shiny, one of 5000. The boy band he had bought merchandise from hoping she would be a little impressed. Didn’t she cry once about having it go missing? Is it this one? In any event, with a shaking hand, he took it in and hid it in his windbreaker’s inner pocket.

The voice that he fell in love with reverberated through the hallway. His eyes grew wide, and he meekly returned the letter to the box.

His vision began to fade out of focus as he dashed to any form of refuge. The bathroom was an obvious choice as it was just left of his own sights. He barely made it in, swung the door shut, and practically nosedived as he hyperventilated and began to lose sense.

There was an echo of someone’s loud shrill and the subsequent footsteps that grew louder and louder as he woke up on the white sofa in cold sweat.

He struggled to keep pace with his breathing as he looked down at the now-extinguished hypercube. The mug rolled out of his pocket and his reflexes have never worked quicker. He looked up at the room, and back down at the mug again.

He lifted his wrist to check his schedule.

15 min until practice starts. It’s time to go.

Hail Taxi.
Skip event.

He popped up from his seat, and placed the hypercube gently on the table, but not before giving it one last look. He walked to the door of his bedroom slowly, slid it open gently, and placed the mug on his side of the bed inconspicuously.

Thank his own lucky stars that she has turned away in her sleep.

He struggled to contain his smile as he left and called his ball bag to head downtown with him.

Irene yawned as she witnessed Alex dragging his bag into the Taxi cabin. 

She eyed the cube and then the Taxi that had started spinning its rotor and lifting itself, and dashed to the yellow room and knocked on its door. Three short knocks, then three long knocks.

Luna immediately caught the door.

“Irene?” The butler reduced her voice to a hush. “What’s wrong?”

“Look at the cube. It has moved like six inches from its original spot.”

“Well—“ Luna cut herself off as her mind is now occupied by something else. “I think it’s time for us to find that autograph.”

“How do you plan to do that?”