I Prefer the Mind Control Rewrite - Chapter 24
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Xan didn’t tell anyone about me. Xan didn’t tell anyone about me. He. Didn’t. Tell. Anyone. About. Me.
The realization kept hitting me and hitting me and hitting me. Why? I wanted to know why, but I can’t even bring myself to ask Xan. Right now, I wouldn’t touch him, instead clasping my hands together hard enough my already pale knuckles turned white. My heart hammered in my chest. Somehow, I didn’t cry -- yet.
We were still standing outside the arrival bay. Syra was still visible, and Arco still looked scary as anything. Yet, everything had gone strangely gray, despite the presence of rainbow lights. I wouldn’t even look at Xan as I wondered why he hadn’t bothered to fucking tell anybody about me. Was he -- was he ashamed of me?
I did wonder why someone like him would even want someone like me. Yeah, I know we’re fictional, so you, author, can make whoever like whomever. Still, I can never fully believe someone as gorgeous and high-ranked as Xan would want me. And now -- it seems as if I might be fucking right. I don’t expect you’ll tell me if I’m right or wrong, will you? No, I didn’t fucking think so. Thanks a lot.
Breathing became nearly fucking impossible. I wanted to crumple into a little ball, but I figured retaining some fucking composure would be a better idea. How could Xan make such a fucking oversight?
Xan looked at me. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me. They burned worse than Arco’s eyes did. “Dylan, are you alright?” he asked.
I didn’t want to fucking speak -- would have rather kept all my words to myself right now when I was in front of Syra and Arco, as well as Xan. Instead, I said, “Do -- do you actually w-want me, Xan?”
“Of course I want you,” he said, his voice pained. He didn’t reach out to touch me.
“Do you really? Then why -- why didn’t you tell anybody about me? Were you -- embarrassed or something?” I whimpered, hugging myself as my body started shaking. Xan reached out to put a hand on my shoulder, and I didn’t have the energy to push him away.
“Because he’s terminally stupid,” Syra snorted, shaking her head..
“I would have to agree on that one,” Arco muttered. “And this is part of why I don’t bother having a partner.” I could hear the disdain in her voice -- it made my eyes sting even worse. I would not cry.
“I’m not stupid,” Xan huffed. “It was just a mistake.” He squeezed my shoulder. I didn’t get much comfort from it at the moment. “I’m -- sorry, Dylan.” I didn’t get much comfort from that, either.
“It was a stupid mistake,” Syra said, glaring at Xan.
“It was,” Arco muttered. “But we shouldn’t debate Prince Xan’s lack of any common sense or decency out here. We ought to get on the Elevator. I had the station hold it for us. Follow me. And go invisible again, Lyatho.” She turned around and began walking. Even in my despair, I had to admire her ass -- what, it’s a nice butt, okay?
Xan took his hand away from my shoulder. “I guess we should follow her,” he said.
I snapped myself out of my random as fuck butt-staring and managed to nod, though I didn’t actually look him in the eye.
“I suppose I should go invisible again, though who knows what stupid thing Xan will do next if I’m not there to warn him,” Syra sighed. Then, she vanished.
Xan started following Arco, who had gotten way ahead of us. I walked next to and slightly behind him, not wanting to be too close. This whole “forget to tell” thing was something we would have to talk about, wasn’t it? It is? “Communication is key?” So now you’re talking to me, author? When I didn’t even ask for you help, no less. How very fucking nice of you.
I supposed I should actually fucking look at my surrounding while I was here. The station was seriously disorienting -- something about the odd, curving geometry of the place was just off. It looked close enough to Xan’s apartment, what with the silver and black everywhere, only it was definitely odder than his place. The station, of course, resembled more a space station than an apartment, too -- it was mostly silvery and plenty of the lights were a basic whitish color rather than the almost-pastel rainbow lights Zimarans seemed to like.
People populated the station, too, obviously. They all seemed to wear some variation on a black and silver uniform. Were they space station staff members? They didn’t seem very “civilian,” not that I knew what your average Zimaran civilian fucking looked like -- though I did know any Zimaran civilian was bound to be way hotter than the equivalent human. I was still too depressed to ask Xan or Arco about the people on the station, though.
None of us fucking talked as we walked to where this mysterious Elevator was. Xan shot me a few worried looks, but I ignored them. I let my arms fall to my sides as we traversed the station, but the instinct to hug myself? It was still fucking there.
Something else bothered me -- where were the security checkpoints? Surely those had to exist. Eventually, we did end up having to go through one, where the woman behind the checkpoint gave me an odd look that clearly said “what is a human doing here?”
“All invisible guards need to show themselves,” the checkpoint woman said, a stony look on her face.
Xan’s guards appeared around us -- there were four of them, including Syra.
“Why did I have to go invisible if I were just going to have to reappear again?” Syra grumbled. She had her arms crossed over her chest.
The checkpoint woman’s face got stonier at that comment, though I had to suppress a laugh. It was kind of a miracle I even felt like fucking laughing, considering what Xan had done -- or, well, what he hadn’t done.
Arco and Xan had to have a retina scan done with an odd portable device. “Is the human with you?” the checkpoint woman asked.
“He is,” Xan said. “As are the guards, of course.” He made eye contact with me when he spoke, causing me to fucking flinch. I quickly looked away, feeling an odd twinge when I met his eyes.
I wondered how much the woman knew about my relationship with Xan. Arco already knew, and whom had she told?
We passed through a doorway thing that looked remarkably like those creepy airport metal detectors. At least nothing beeped angrily at us, like has happened to me at an actual airport when I had no metal whatsoever on my body?
Eventually we made it to the space elevator itself. By the time we got there, the guards, including Syra, had turned invisible again. I felt suddenly and horribly lonely, not that the guards had talked to me or anything. Arco made especially poor company because she was scary as shit and Xan -- well, I really didn’t want to think about that right now.
Maybe I was overreacting? But if you’re serious about someone, you fucking tell people about them, don’t you? I think that’s how it’s supposed to work. Of course, you’re not going to tell me if I’m right or wrong, are you? You know what? I need some fucking coffee, but where am I supposed to get that? Hey, you can’t just beam me some coffee from your world, can you? This universe has rules, you say? Fuck that, I need caffeine.
The airlock thingie we had to pass through to get inside the Elevator itself made whooshing noises -- I had to wonder if they did that deliberately for effect. It seemed far too “cheesy sci-fi movie” to be truly necessary. Then again, you’re the one making up the universe and its inhabitants, so what do I know?
Inside the airlock thingie itself, it glowed all the colors of the rainbow -- okay, that was definitely for effect. Finally, we got inside the space elevator, and I could fucking sit down. Damn, was I exhausted. I sagged onto one of the seats, which were arranged in a circle. The elevator was circular, too.
I sighed, thinking about how this trip had started out amazing and ended up really kind of crappy. Sure, this was just the beginning of my time on Zimara, but -- Xan didn’t fucking tell anybody about me. I sunk so far into my gloom that I hardly flinched when the seatbelts shot out from the chair and strapped me to it.
Xan shot me another look and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then he closed it again. A space elevator wasn’t the time for an intimate fucking chat, anyway, even if he was sitting next to me. Part of me had wanted to tell him not to do that -- wanted to tell him to sit as far away as possible. Arco glanced at us, also looking like she wanted to say something. Everyone seemed like they wanted to speak, except for me. I didn’t want to fucking talk.
Do you have anything to say, author? I might as well ask, considering everyone else is doing the “I wanna speak but won’t” dance. No? Okay, then.
Sighing, I looked up at the ceiling. A mechanical voice said something in a language I didn’t understand -- presumably, it was talking in Zimaran. That brought up a teeny tiny little question -- how was I going to get around if I didn’t speak the language? Some Zimarans might know English, but I didn’t think fucking all of them would speak it just for me. I wasn’t worth that.
“The Elevator is about to descend. I suggest you prepare yourself,” Arco muttered, looking at me.
How the fuck was I suppose to prepare myself? I was already strapped in.
My stomach fucking flipped as the elevator began dropping. No, I wasn’t prepared for that. Come to think of it, I wasn’t prepared for anything. Who did I think I was to come here in the first place?
At least once the thing starting dropping, it kind of normalized enough that my stomach didn’t feel so...swoopy and out of balance. I sighed to myself, both relieved from the steadier drop and sad because I wondered how much I belonged here if Xan didn’t even think to tell anybody I was coming.
Xan turned to me. His eyes fucking shone, like he might cry. Really, Xan? He whispered, “I -- I really am sorry, Dylan.”
“Are you?” I said before I could fucking stop myself. Why did I even ask that? I wanted to curl my knees to my chest and bury my head between my knees, but the straps holding me to the chair didn’t exactly allow for that. Instead, I just stared at the silvery floor.
“Believe me -- I am. Tr-truly,” he said, his voice cracking. He sounded sincere, but I didn’t want to have this discussion in front of Arco. A lump formed in my throat -- oh no, I wasn’t going to fucking cry now. I had managed to keep myself from doing it so far, and I didn’t want to break.
“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” I muttered.
“I would rather not have to deal with your dramatics in the Elevator, though the results of them will be relevant -- young Dylan might wise up and decide you’re not worth the effort, Prince Xan,” Arco murmured, giving the both of us an uncomfortably intense look.
As upset as I was with Xan, I didn’t like the way Arco was talking about him. That fucking said, part of me had started to question -- was Xan worth the effort?
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Xan didn’t tell anyone about me. Xan didn’t tell anyone about me. He. Didn’t. Tell. Anyone. About. Me.
The realization kept hitting me and hitting me and hitting me. Why? I wanted to know why, but I can’t even bring myself to ask Xan. Right now, I wouldn’t touch him, instead clasping my hands together hard enough my already pale knuckles turned white. My heart hammered in my chest. Somehow, I didn’t cry -- yet.
We were still standing outside the arrival bay. Syra was still visible, and Arco still looked scary as anything. Yet, everything had gone strangely gray, despite the presence of rainbow lights. I wouldn’t even look at Xan as I wondered why he hadn’t bothered to fucking tell anybody about me. Was he -- was he ashamed of me?
I did wonder why someone like him would even want someone like me. Yeah, I know we’re fictional, so you, author, can make whoever like whomever. Still, I can never fully believe someone as gorgeous and high-ranked as Xan would want me. And now -- it seems as if I might be fucking right. I don’t expect you’ll tell me if I’m right or wrong, will you? No, I didn’t fucking think so. Thanks a lot.
Breathing became nearly fucking impossible. I wanted to crumple into a little ball, but I figured retaining some fucking composure would be a better idea. How could Xan make such a fucking oversight?
Xan looked at me. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me. They burned worse than Arco’s eyes did. “Dylan, are you alright?” he asked.
I didn’t want to fucking speak -- would have rather kept all my words to myself right now when I was in front of Syra and Arco, as well as Xan. Instead, I said, “Do -- do you actually w-want me, Xan?”
“Of course I want you,” he said, his voice pained. He didn’t reach out to touch me.
“Do you really? Then why -- why didn’t you tell anybody about me? Were you -- embarrassed or something?” I whimpered, hugging myself as my body started shaking. Xan reached out to put a hand on my shoulder, and I didn’t have the energy to push him away.
“Because he’s terminally stupid,” Syra snorted, shaking her head..
“I would have to agree on that one,” Arco muttered. “And this is part of why I don’t bother having a partner.” I could hear the disdain in her voice -- it made my eyes sting even worse. I would not cry.
“I’m not stupid,” Xan huffed. “It was just a mistake.” He squeezed my shoulder. I didn’t get much comfort from it at the moment. “I’m -- sorry, Dylan.” I didn’t get much comfort from that, either.
“It was a stupid mistake,” Syra said, glaring at Xan.
“It was,” Arco muttered. “But we shouldn’t debate Prince Xan’s lack of any common sense or decency out here. We ought to get on the Elevator. I had the station hold it for us. Follow me. And go invisible again, Lyatho.” She turned around and began walking. Even in my despair, I had to admire her ass -- what, it’s a nice butt, okay?
Xan took his hand away from my shoulder. “I guess we should follow her,” he said.
I snapped myself out of my random as fuck butt-staring and managed to nod, though I didn’t actually look him in the eye.
“I suppose I should go invisible again, though who knows what stupid thing Xan will do next if I’m not there to warn him,” Syra sighed. Then, she vanished.
Xan started following Arco, who had gotten way ahead of us. I walked next to and slightly behind him, not wanting to be too close. This whole “forget to tell” thing was something we would have to talk about, wasn’t it? It is? “Communication is key?” So now you’re talking to me, author? When I didn’t even ask for you help, no less. How very fucking nice of you.
I supposed I should actually fucking look at my surrounding while I was here. The station was seriously disorienting -- something about the odd, curving geometry of the place was just off. It looked close enough to Xan’s apartment, what with the silver and black everywhere, only it was definitely odder than his place. The station, of course, resembled more a space station than an apartment, too -- it was mostly silvery and plenty of the lights were a basic whitish color rather than the almost-pastel rainbow lights Zimarans seemed to like.
People populated the station, too, obviously. They all seemed to wear some variation on a black and silver uniform. Were they space station staff members? They didn’t seem very “civilian,” not that I knew what your average Zimaran civilian fucking looked like -- though I did know any Zimaran civilian was bound to be way hotter than the equivalent human. I was still too depressed to ask Xan or Arco about the people on the station, though.
None of us fucking talked as we walked to where this mysterious Elevator was. Xan shot me a few worried looks, but I ignored them. I let my arms fall to my sides as we traversed the station, but the instinct to hug myself? It was still fucking there.
Something else bothered me -- where were the security checkpoints? Surely those had to exist. Eventually, we did end up having to go through one, where the woman behind the checkpoint gave me an odd look that clearly said “what is a human doing here?”
“All invisible guards need to show themselves,” the checkpoint woman said, a stony look on her face.
Xan’s guards appeared around us -- there were four of them, including Syra.
“Why did I have to go invisible if I were just going to have to reappear again?” Syra grumbled. She had her arms crossed over her chest.
The checkpoint woman’s face got stonier at that comment, though I had to suppress a laugh. It was kind of a miracle I even felt like fucking laughing, considering what Xan had done -- or, well, what he hadn’t done.
Arco and Xan had to have a retina scan done with an odd portable device. “Is the human with you?” the checkpoint woman asked.
“He is,” Xan said. “As are the guards, of course.” He made eye contact with me when he spoke, causing me to fucking flinch. I quickly looked away, feeling an odd twinge when I met his eyes.
I wondered how much the woman knew about my relationship with Xan. Arco already knew, and whom had she told?
We passed through a doorway thing that looked remarkably like those creepy airport metal detectors. At least nothing beeped angrily at us, like has happened to me at an actual airport when I had no metal whatsoever on my body?
Eventually we made it to the space elevator itself. By the time we got there, the guards, including Syra, had turned invisible again. I felt suddenly and horribly lonely, not that the guards had talked to me or anything. Arco made especially poor company because she was scary as shit and Xan -- well, I really didn’t want to think about that right now.
Maybe I was overreacting? But if you’re serious about someone, you fucking tell people about them, don’t you? I think that’s how it’s supposed to work. Of course, you’re not going to tell me if I’m right or wrong, are you? You know what? I need some fucking coffee, but where am I supposed to get that? Hey, you can’t just beam me some coffee from your world, can you? This universe has rules, you say? Fuck that, I need caffeine.
The airlock thingie we had to pass through to get inside the Elevator itself made whooshing noises -- I had to wonder if they did that deliberately for effect. It seemed far too “cheesy sci-fi movie” to be truly necessary. Then again, you’re the one making up the universe and its inhabitants, so what do I know?
Inside the airlock thingie itself, it glowed all the colors of the rainbow -- okay, that was definitely for effect. Finally, we got inside the space elevator, and I could fucking sit down. Damn, was I exhausted. I sagged onto one of the seats, which were arranged in a circle. The elevator was circular, too.
I sighed, thinking about how this trip had started out amazing and ended up really kind of crappy. Sure, this was just the beginning of my time on Zimara, but -- Xan didn’t fucking tell anybody about me. I sunk so far into my gloom that I hardly flinched when the seatbelts shot out from the chair and strapped me to it.
Xan shot me another look and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then he closed it again. A space elevator wasn’t the time for an intimate fucking chat, anyway, even if he was sitting next to me. Part of me had wanted to tell him not to do that -- wanted to tell him to sit as far away as possible. Arco glanced at us, also looking like she wanted to say something. Everyone seemed like they wanted to speak, except for me. I didn’t want to fucking talk.
Do you have anything to say, author? I might as well ask, considering everyone else is doing the “I wanna speak but won’t” dance. No? Okay, then.
Sighing, I looked up at the ceiling. A mechanical voice said something in a language I didn’t understand -- presumably, it was talking in Zimaran. That brought up a teeny tiny little question -- how was I going to get around if I didn’t speak the language? Some Zimarans might know English, but I didn’t think fucking all of them would speak it just for me. I wasn’t worth that.
“The Elevator is about to descend. I suggest you prepare yourself,” Arco muttered, looking at me.
How the fuck was I suppose to prepare myself? I was already strapped in.
My stomach fucking flipped as the elevator began dropping. No, I wasn’t prepared for that. Come to think of it, I wasn’t prepared for anything. Who did I think I was to come here in the first place?
At least once the thing starting dropping, it kind of normalized enough that my stomach didn’t feel so...swoopy and out of balance. I sighed to myself, both relieved from the steadier drop and sad because I wondered how much I belonged here if Xan didn’t even think to tell anybody I was coming.
Xan turned to me. His eyes fucking shone, like he might cry. Really, Xan? He whispered, “I -- I really am sorry, Dylan.”
“Are you?” I said before I could fucking stop myself. Why did I even ask that? I wanted to curl my knees to my chest and bury my head between my knees, but the straps holding me to the chair didn’t exactly allow for that. Instead, I just stared at the silvery floor.
“Believe me -- I am. Tr-truly,” he said, his voice cracking. He sounded sincere, but I didn’t want to have this discussion in front of Arco. A lump formed in my throat -- oh no, I wasn’t going to fucking cry now. I had managed to keep myself from doing it so far, and I didn’t want to break.
“Let’s talk about this later, okay?” I muttered.
“I would rather not have to deal with your dramatics in the Elevator, though the results of them will be relevant -- young Dylan might wise up and decide you’re not worth the effort, Prince Xan,” Arco murmured, giving the both of us an uncomfortably intense look.
As upset as I was with Xan, I didn’t like the way Arco was talking about him. That fucking said, part of me had started to question -- was Xan worth the effort?