Pretending to Be Human
More I Prefer the Mind Control. I'm definitely doing this out of order this time, but this one does take place soon after the previous one I wrote.
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I’m sitting on the couch in my living room, worrying my brains out, when Preston crashes through the door, Ayli in tow. Why the fuck did I give him the code to get in here?
They’re holding hands. Of course they’re holding hands. The two of them radiate so much happiness, you could use it to power the entire planet.
Ayli sticks out her hand -- she’s wearing the heart-shaped diamond ring Preston showed me earlier. Of course she is. She grins, and she looks so...human. It’s kind of fucking weird -- if you didn’t notice her distinctive metallic blue eyes, she would seem like any newly engaged girl. Including the inability to speak and the incoherent joyful squealing. I would know -- there’s a home video where my mom’s doing the same thing after my dad proposed.
Even the clothes she’s wearing look like something you would see on an Earth girl. Not a trace of black, silver or shiny anything. No rainbow stuff, either. The royal colors are black and silver, and Zimarans in general love their shiny and their rainbow -- especially rainbow lights. Ayli’s dress? It’s a green-and-pink floral thing, and where did she even get it?
Not everyone in the Palace wears the official Zimaran silver and black, but Ayli’s supposed to be a Princess of this planet. In my outfit, I look more like Zimaran royalty than she does, and I’m an actual fucking human being.
“Uh, congratulations,” I murmur, trying to smile.
Preston grins so widely his face looks like it might split in half. He pulls a still-squealing Ayli into his arms and kisses her lightly on the lips. And keeps up that deranged-clown grin. He’s wearing humanlike clothes, too.
My stomach sinks -- I don’t want to be the fucking bad guy, but Ayli can’t marry him, on account of how he’s a Earth commoner. If they wanted to do things the Zimaran way, it would be possible, but Zimaran royalty, even the ones who aren’t chosen to rule, have to follow certain customs. Like not pretending they’re human.
“Uh...guys?” I mutter.
They both stop to look at me, able to detect something in my tone.
“Just, um, how do you expect to be able to, like, actually get married?” I say. “Ayli may be pretending to be human, but she’s kinda not. And Zimaran Princesses kinda have, uh, rules, right?”
The air tenses, and they both give me looks like they can’t quite understand why I said that. I said that because Ayli isn’t human, and they can’t just fucking ignore that.
“Look at you, Dylan, you’re doing the same thing as Ayli,” Preston mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
I look down at myself. Is he talking about my outfit? “What’s that mean?” I mutter.
Ayli narrows her eyes at me. “You say I’m trying to be human, and I suppose I am. But you’re trying as hard not to be human. If I didn’t know where you were from, and if it weren’t for your eyes, I would think you’re Zimaran. You certainly have the...sexual habits of one of my people,” she says. “And your outfit is exactly what the average royal boy toy would wear.”
“It’s -- it’s different for me,” I splutter, keeping my eyes on the ground. “I can do what I want, more or less because nobody gives a shit about me. I’m just some random commoner...and I’m not Xan’s ‘boy toy,’ okay?”
I don’t even know where we stand.
A long, terrible silence settles over the room, and I think everything’s gonna fucking explode.
Ayli breaks the silence. There are tears in her eyes, and they’re not the happy kind. “You think I don’t know all that? I get it. I get it. I get it. I’m a Princess, I have to behave appropriately, only I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t be Zimaran. You know how I’m expected to use my mind control or have it used it on me, don’t you? I tried to use it on a boy I liked, once, and I couldn’t. It felt so wrong to be in someone’s mind. When another boy tried to use it on me, I felt so sick I threw up. And yet I’m expected to use the mind control, especially if I want to love someone, and it’s just not possible for me. I know all this. Dylan, you know what it’s like, don’t you, to grow up wrong for where you were born?”
I do have some fucking idea what that’s like. I take a deep breath and look her directly in the eye.
“Know what it’s like? Yeah, I do. I was a bisexual guy on Earth in the National States in the year 2025. I was told I don’t fucking exist. Or that I was desperate. Or crazy. Or degenerate. Or gay and in denial. Or any combination of the above. Add in the fact that I had an open relationship with my girlfriend, and yeah, I got shit for it. And Bonnie had it even worse in some ways, because girls on Earth aren’t supposed to like sex or something stupid like that. Earth kinda fucking sucked for me a lot of the time,” I sigh, leaning back on the couch.
“At least you could run away,” Ayli sighs, looking sadder than I’ve ever seen her.
I deflate completely. She’s right about that much. “I didn’t come to Zimara because I wanted to,” I say. “But, um, I do like it here. Even though that pissed me off at first since I had to come. I guess I fit in? People seem to like me, and, not -- not that I would, but Leader Toffano of the Coalition of Earth Nations apparently gave me and Xan her, like...blessing for Soulbreaking? Which is just more weird and random than anything, but, uh...I guess I do have more approval. Even if it’s for something that’s purely, you know, hypothetical.” My body heats up just thinking about doing that with Xan. Because it’s such a ridiculous idea.
“Nobody’s going to give me a blessing to marry Preston,” she murmurs, looking over at him. He puts an arm around her, and she leans against him. “I want my own happy ending, and I...can’t find it on this planet.”
“We’ll find a way,” Preston says.
“If Toffano gave me her blessing, maybe she would approve an...interplanetary partner exchange?” I shrug, knowing that’s not really how it would work, since Princesses have way more -- extremely stupid -- rules.
Xan Soulbreaking me -- in a hypothetical world -- is somehow okay, but Ayli marrying Preston is somehow not cool. I don’t know how that fucking works, but diplomatically, the King-to-be having a human partner is diplomatically smart. But there are stupid, stupid rules about what Ayli can do.
Something morbid as fuck occurs to me. Xan’s dads probably would never allow Ayli to marry how she wants, but...would Xan himself allow it? Like, if his dads are dead and he’s, uh, King, could he just say “fuck it” and give his sister permission to have a human wedding? I keep my mouth shut on that one.
“Toffano might, but my fathers wouldn’t. They are more open-minded about Xan having a human partner because you would be willing to follow their customs. I am not willing, so they wouldn’t be so willing,” she says, shaking her head sadly.
“Wow, being a Princess fucking sucks,” I mutter, shifting in my seat.
“It does,” Ayli says. She nods.
“It’s not like you can just...decide not to be a Princess anymore, even if Preston thought you might, right? I mean, since Xan was chosen to be King and all, it’s not like can you just give up your claim to the throne and any privileges that come with being royalty and run away to Earth -- is it?” I say. I resist the urge to smack my forehead for even suggesting something so ridiculous.
But Preston’s whole face lights up. “Your dads might not like this, but my parents would be overjoyed if you ran away to Earth and became a commoner for me. No, really. They wouldn’t care about any political scandal. They despaired of me ever having a girlfriend, and they thought I was gay. Which was cool with them, actually, they just hated that I was ‘in denial.’ Only I’m not, just...really picky about girls I liked.” He looks into Ayli’s eyes. “But now that I’ve found one who I more than just ‘like,’ they would be so happy if you came with me.”
Ayli crinkles her brow in thought. “That might be possible. Oh, it would be a terrible scandal, but I might be allowed to do that,” she murmurs. “I could come to Earth, get married on Earth. I’m not religious, so I wouldn’t get married in one, but I’ve heard the churches there are lovely.” She leaves Preston’s arms and twirls. “Wouldn’t that be amazing, if I could just stop being a Princess?”
I lift one finger up. “Uh, guys? Could you, maybe, not tell anyone I mentioned this idea?” I mutter.
Who knows what kind of disaster this plan could cause?
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I’m sitting on the couch in my living room, worrying my brains out, when Preston crashes through the door, Ayli in tow. Why the fuck did I give him the code to get in here?
They’re holding hands. Of course they’re holding hands. The two of them radiate so much happiness, you could use it to power the entire planet.
Ayli sticks out her hand -- she’s wearing the heart-shaped diamond ring Preston showed me earlier. Of course she is. She grins, and she looks so...human. It’s kind of fucking weird -- if you didn’t notice her distinctive metallic blue eyes, she would seem like any newly engaged girl. Including the inability to speak and the incoherent joyful squealing. I would know -- there’s a home video where my mom’s doing the same thing after my dad proposed.
Even the clothes she’s wearing look like something you would see on an Earth girl. Not a trace of black, silver or shiny anything. No rainbow stuff, either. The royal colors are black and silver, and Zimarans in general love their shiny and their rainbow -- especially rainbow lights. Ayli’s dress? It’s a green-and-pink floral thing, and where did she even get it?
Not everyone in the Palace wears the official Zimaran silver and black, but Ayli’s supposed to be a Princess of this planet. In my outfit, I look more like Zimaran royalty than she does, and I’m an actual fucking human being.
“Uh, congratulations,” I murmur, trying to smile.
Preston grins so widely his face looks like it might split in half. He pulls a still-squealing Ayli into his arms and kisses her lightly on the lips. And keeps up that deranged-clown grin. He’s wearing humanlike clothes, too.
My stomach sinks -- I don’t want to be the fucking bad guy, but Ayli can’t marry him, on account of how he’s a Earth commoner. If they wanted to do things the Zimaran way, it would be possible, but Zimaran royalty, even the ones who aren’t chosen to rule, have to follow certain customs. Like not pretending they’re human.
“Uh...guys?” I mutter.
They both stop to look at me, able to detect something in my tone.
“Just, um, how do you expect to be able to, like, actually get married?” I say. “Ayli may be pretending to be human, but she’s kinda not. And Zimaran Princesses kinda have, uh, rules, right?”
The air tenses, and they both give me looks like they can’t quite understand why I said that. I said that because Ayli isn’t human, and they can’t just fucking ignore that.
“Look at you, Dylan, you’re doing the same thing as Ayli,” Preston mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
I look down at myself. Is he talking about my outfit? “What’s that mean?” I mutter.
Ayli narrows her eyes at me. “You say I’m trying to be human, and I suppose I am. But you’re trying as hard not to be human. If I didn’t know where you were from, and if it weren’t for your eyes, I would think you’re Zimaran. You certainly have the...sexual habits of one of my people,” she says. “And your outfit is exactly what the average royal boy toy would wear.”
“It’s -- it’s different for me,” I splutter, keeping my eyes on the ground. “I can do what I want, more or less because nobody gives a shit about me. I’m just some random commoner...and I’m not Xan’s ‘boy toy,’ okay?”
I don’t even know where we stand.
A long, terrible silence settles over the room, and I think everything’s gonna fucking explode.
Ayli breaks the silence. There are tears in her eyes, and they’re not the happy kind. “You think I don’t know all that? I get it. I get it. I get it. I’m a Princess, I have to behave appropriately, only I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t be Zimaran. You know how I’m expected to use my mind control or have it used it on me, don’t you? I tried to use it on a boy I liked, once, and I couldn’t. It felt so wrong to be in someone’s mind. When another boy tried to use it on me, I felt so sick I threw up. And yet I’m expected to use the mind control, especially if I want to love someone, and it’s just not possible for me. I know all this. Dylan, you know what it’s like, don’t you, to grow up wrong for where you were born?”
I do have some fucking idea what that’s like. I take a deep breath and look her directly in the eye.
“Know what it’s like? Yeah, I do. I was a bisexual guy on Earth in the National States in the year 2025. I was told I don’t fucking exist. Or that I was desperate. Or crazy. Or degenerate. Or gay and in denial. Or any combination of the above. Add in the fact that I had an open relationship with my girlfriend, and yeah, I got shit for it. And Bonnie had it even worse in some ways, because girls on Earth aren’t supposed to like sex or something stupid like that. Earth kinda fucking sucked for me a lot of the time,” I sigh, leaning back on the couch.
“At least you could run away,” Ayli sighs, looking sadder than I’ve ever seen her.
I deflate completely. She’s right about that much. “I didn’t come to Zimara because I wanted to,” I say. “But, um, I do like it here. Even though that pissed me off at first since I had to come. I guess I fit in? People seem to like me, and, not -- not that I would, but Leader Toffano of the Coalition of Earth Nations apparently gave me and Xan her, like...blessing for Soulbreaking? Which is just more weird and random than anything, but, uh...I guess I do have more approval. Even if it’s for something that’s purely, you know, hypothetical.” My body heats up just thinking about doing that with Xan. Because it’s such a ridiculous idea.
“Nobody’s going to give me a blessing to marry Preston,” she murmurs, looking over at him. He puts an arm around her, and she leans against him. “I want my own happy ending, and I...can’t find it on this planet.”
“We’ll find a way,” Preston says.
“If Toffano gave me her blessing, maybe she would approve an...interplanetary partner exchange?” I shrug, knowing that’s not really how it would work, since Princesses have way more -- extremely stupid -- rules.
Xan Soulbreaking me -- in a hypothetical world -- is somehow okay, but Ayli marrying Preston is somehow not cool. I don’t know how that fucking works, but diplomatically, the King-to-be having a human partner is diplomatically smart. But there are stupid, stupid rules about what Ayli can do.
Something morbid as fuck occurs to me. Xan’s dads probably would never allow Ayli to marry how she wants, but...would Xan himself allow it? Like, if his dads are dead and he’s, uh, King, could he just say “fuck it” and give his sister permission to have a human wedding? I keep my mouth shut on that one.
“Toffano might, but my fathers wouldn’t. They are more open-minded about Xan having a human partner because you would be willing to follow their customs. I am not willing, so they wouldn’t be so willing,” she says, shaking her head sadly.
“Wow, being a Princess fucking sucks,” I mutter, shifting in my seat.
“It does,” Ayli says. She nods.
“It’s not like you can just...decide not to be a Princess anymore, even if Preston thought you might, right? I mean, since Xan was chosen to be King and all, it’s not like can you just give up your claim to the throne and any privileges that come with being royalty and run away to Earth -- is it?” I say. I resist the urge to smack my forehead for even suggesting something so ridiculous.
But Preston’s whole face lights up. “Your dads might not like this, but my parents would be overjoyed if you ran away to Earth and became a commoner for me. No, really. They wouldn’t care about any political scandal. They despaired of me ever having a girlfriend, and they thought I was gay. Which was cool with them, actually, they just hated that I was ‘in denial.’ Only I’m not, just...really picky about girls I liked.” He looks into Ayli’s eyes. “But now that I’ve found one who I more than just ‘like,’ they would be so happy if you came with me.”
Ayli crinkles her brow in thought. “That might be possible. Oh, it would be a terrible scandal, but I might be allowed to do that,” she murmurs. “I could come to Earth, get married on Earth. I’m not religious, so I wouldn’t get married in one, but I’ve heard the churches there are lovely.” She leaves Preston’s arms and twirls. “Wouldn’t that be amazing, if I could just stop being a Princess?”
I lift one finger up. “Uh, guys? Could you, maybe, not tell anyone I mentioned this idea?” I mutter.
Who knows what kind of disaster this plan could cause?