You Can't Take The Sky From Me!

A boy, around age of 8 to 10, is running aimlessly in the dark. His breath is heavy, and his sweat is all over his body. His small legs pushed against the cold, damp grounding, and he's not even sure if it's floor, or soil, it's too dark to see everything. He can't even comprehend if he is upside down or standing upwards. The weight of the darkness around him felt suffocating, his eyes, wide and frantic, darted to any directions, but there was nothing to see—just endless black.

He stumbled again, the sharp stones beneath his feet scraping his skin, but he didn't stop. Keep moving. You have to keep moving.

Where?

Wherever! If you keep moving, you will be free from this darkness!

The panic rose in his chest, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, drowning out all but the thudding of his own body against the unseen obstacles. He was alone. No one was coming to save him, he knew that. But he can't afford to give up, it's not in his DNA.

His breath came faster. Where is the exit? Where's the way out?

Gradually he can hear noises. Finally! A sign of life! 

As the noises took shape, glowing pairs of red eyes appeared in the dark. Savages, watching him from the shadows. The little boy found himself surrounded by enemies. Every single one of them, enemies.

Their maniac laughs echoes in the darkness, knowing that the boy has now trapped in their trap. 

There's no way out.

You're only running in the circle. 

Jared jolted awake, his breath short and his eyes wide open, moving frantically as his brain assured him that he was safe now. The sound of Herman's whimpering followed, and then the dog licked his cheek before curling up in his lap. The soft, fluffy fur always brought him a sense of calm.

Jared took a deep breath and laid his head back against the seat. Above, the canopy door shut tight, the glass letting Jared see the ocean of stars, beautifully scattered and glittering. Somewhere out there, a star had just died, and another was born. The cycle of life didn't wait for anyone. Everyone was minding their own business. No place for the clingy to beg for attention.

Jared grabbed the drink he had bought back at the space station. He quenched his thirst before checking the gas and the map to see how far he was from his destination. He'd been turning off the power to save gas when he went to sleep.

It was time to continue the journey—to escape Charles. He just wanted to live his life without anyone trying to pull him back into their possession. It wasn't going to work both ways anyway.

Jared powered on the trooper pod and launched it toward Stormborn.

It's just few light years away.

It looked like a barren, metallic planet, with bronze dominating its surface. Once Jared entered the atmosphere, the surface of dead land, like the gate of hell, welcomed him.

It was a place for fugitives and outlaws to gather and refuel. There, people with bounties protected each other. The police knew about this place but, for some reason, left the outlaws alone. Jared had learned that the police also protected them, because sometimes they could be useful in certain cases.

However, just because they protecting each others, doesn't mean Jared is safe. He has to watch out because some of them would know him as a former bounty hunter. Surely some would want to square things with him, either perhaps one of their comrades was captured by the police because of Jared. 

Finally, Jared could trade his trooper pod for something more suited to his new life of adventure. With Flaggot's connections to the police, he was clearly not someone to trust, leaving Jared with no choice but to live a stray life. It reminded him of the days of survivals when he was raised by a stray female dog in the streets of Gnosach, Planet Alayan—kicked by adults for stealing a loaf of bread and pelted with stones by kids his age for being a weirdo. 

The difference now is, he can speak human language, he wear clothes, and he got some money so he doesn't have to endure the night's cold and bugs. He can rent a room. 

"Stay here, Herman, hungry people here eat dogs," Jared gives Herman his socks so the dog can smell the scent while he is away. Jared close the rented room's door and lock it, and then he left to delivery hub. From the address in Ms Clementine's ID card picture he had taken before, he wrote down the address and deliver the credit card back to her. 

The mail officer was a Vadam. He looked like a green human squid with a large head and lazy eyes. He input the delivery data into the system. "That will be 10 credits."

Jared handed him the cash.

"Oh," the mail officer noticed something. "It seems like this person is a traveler. Do you still want to send it to this address?"

It made sense that they needed to question it. Travelers usually sold their homes to buy camper pods and live a nomadic lifestyle, which is what Jared was about to do. That's why, on their ID cards, travelers were required to inform authorities they were probably nomads.

"She only gave me that address," Jared shrugged.

The Vadam inputted it into the system anyway. "Do you want to make sure it reaches her? There will be an additional charge."

"How much?"

"Just 50 credits."

Jared pushed the edge of his lips to the side before handing over the money. After all, she had helped him escape, and for all the trouble he'd caused her, 50 credits seemed like a fair exchange.

Once he finished what he needed to do at the delivery hub, Jared walked down the street, enjoying the nightlife of Stormborn. Many rascals burned used tires at the side of the road. Some blasted music from stereos and had a rap battle—an Earthling vs. an Orkan. Their rapping was inaudible, sounding almost like a broken washing machine. At least they had style.

Some women in provocative clothes eyed him, but Jared remained unbothered. They were prostitutes, willing to trade their services for even a cigarette. Some were so desperate they reached out to Jared, offering their services. He couldn't judge them. He knew some of them ended up in this sad life because they had dreams of being a celebrity or model, only to be scammed by a psychopathic agency that blackmailed them.

But he couldn't afford to help them, because Jared just wasn't into them. At least he didn't reject their offer with humiliation.

Unexpectedly, a male prostitute approached him. He wore makeup, and his face was far from attractive. "Hey, handsome, care to share the night together?"

Jared stopped walking, unable to help but smirk.

Not long after, Jared found himself in a dark alley, taking care of his business. He didn't usually go for people like this, knowing how adventurous they could be. But after the experience with Ken--the waiter at the bar in Minerva, he wasn't sure what to expect anymore. When they kissed, it felt like Ken would give him his whole world. But, as it turned out, he'd do the same for any guy who fell for his charm.

What had that been about? Money? Or was it just the thrill of adventure, the joy of hopping from place to place?

This prostitute reminded Jared of Ken. The pretty-boy waiter who served drinks on roller blades and wore skirts. Ken loved crop tops, makeup, and his curly hair was always perfectly styled—he fit Jared's favorite type: androgynous. Their first kiss had happened only hours after Jared found out that Logan had kidnapped his dog, Herman.

But the connection didn't even last a week. Jared soon found him kissing another man, clinging to his muscular, tattooed arms like a monkey.

"What do you think you're doing behind my back? Are you whore?!" Jared snapped, pulling the waiter closer in anger.

Ken only smirked, mocking him. "Really? Do you think I'd date someone like you? It's all just for fun, Jared. We're only young once. Why tie ourselves down to one person? And even if I did want someone, it wouldn't be you. You're nothing but a whining dog, begging for a home."

How can Earthlings say such mean things to one another? Is that the only way they know how to say "no" or express rejection? Or, despite their obsessions, are Earthlings actually heartless? Are they truly capable of love, or do they have a different idea of what love is? Do they use love merely as a means to enhance lust?

Even someone like Charles, who is compassionate and kind to everyone, he also wasn't very good.

Jared still remembered that day when he was 15, he planned a surprise birthday for Charles in their unit. He asked people he thought were his friends to gather and deliver a surprise party. The plan was simple: everyone would gather in the room, carrying a birthday cake, and leave the room in the dark. When Charles entered, they'd pop the confetti and surprise him. He must be really happy!

Evening came, and Jared decorated everything by himself, wondering why no one showed up. As the sky grew darker, he became more worried because he was doing everything alone, including picking up the cake. Still, no one showed up. When it was dark, Charles usually got home around this hour after memorizing codes in the library, so Jared felt relieved that Charles wasn't home yet, giving him time to finish the decorations.

8 pm: Everything was done. All he had to do was turn off the lamp and wait for Charles to show up. But he was wondering—why hadn't anyone shown up? Weren't they his friends?

10 pm: Jared started to get sleepy and eventually fell asleep.

6 am: Charles returned home to their unit. The sound of the door opening woke Jared up, and the first thing he did was panic. "Oh, I overslept! The surprise party...!"

But then he realized Charles was already there, walking pass the cake on the table, and casually changing his clothes.

"What are you doing? What's with all this mess?" Charles asked Jared with a flat expression.

"I thought it was your birthday yesterday," Jared started to wonder if he had gotten the date wrong.

"Well, yeah..." Charles replied.

Now Jared was confused. Why wasn't he excited to celebrate his birthday? Why didn't he seem to appreciate the obvious setup? Well, maybe he was just tired or had too much on his mind. He had always told Jared about his big dream to make the universe a better place. So Jared tried to be patient with Charles's cold, unbothered demeanor. "So, where were you? Did you just get home? You must be tired from staying up all night at the library memorizing codes..."

"No, I'm not. I slept well, no worries," Charles continued changing his clothes.

"What? So... what did you do last night?"

"I was with Mourice," Charles answered casually, as if it were nothing. No apology, no empathy, no understanding. He even mentioned another guy's name without even looking at the cake Jared had bought for him.

"Mourice? Oh you two slept together now?" Jared knew who he was—he was their senior assigned to mentor Charles. Since the mentoring began, Charles had become glued to him, and Jared had started hanging out alone. And once they got together, everything Charles talked about was Mourice—how smart he was, how talented he was, and how much Mourice inspired him. 

Now, on his birthday, Charles was with Mourice, sleeping on his bed.

Jared felt his face heat up, like a kettle about to explodes.

"I had something I didn't understand, so I needed to discuss it with him," Charles said casually as he picked up his towel and went into the bathroom. "Since it was already 2 a.m., I slept in his bed."

"Oh, must have been an unforgettable night!" Jared's voice sounded grim. He felt so betrayed right now.

"Why? Is that wrong? You didn't think we did anything, did you? Keep that dirty imagination to yourself if you do. I'm so done with your overreacting! You're really good at being draining, Jared," Charles snapped, sounding upset. They had been through this drama constantly, and Charles didn't need additional weight on his mind, especially something as unimportant as this.

"No, but... I... bought you a cake." Jared pointed at something that has been waiting for Charles for hours. Desperately trying to get a simple appreciation, even just a "thanks".

"Yes, I saw that. Thanks. But you should've known that I don't like sweets. Now, can you leave me alone? I need to shower because class starts in an hour." Charles said coldly.

Jared could not speak. He didn't even know how to comprehend what he was feeling. Was it anger? Sadness? What was this? Why did he feel like he is about to burn everything down?

"What?" Charles was mad now. "You're upset because I didn't care about you? Because I spent time with someone who can actually guide me to be a better cop?! You want me to stick with you all the time, with your suffocating clinginess, but you've got nothing to offer! Grow up, Jared! I'm not your mother or father!"

Charles shoved Jared out of the bathroom and locked the door.

Did it hurt?

Of course.

But it didn't matter. Charles realized how mean he'd been to Jared, so he bought him a delicious cheeseburger on the next day.

"Is it good?" Charles smiled as he watched Jared eat the burger. Jared nodded and smiled at him in gratitude.

"Good. I'm so happy to see you eating well," Charles said, caressing Jared's hair gently, today seeming very caring, very loving—a stark contrast to how he'd been the day before.

"Oh, look at the time, I gotta go," Charles hurriedly stood up, kissed Jared on the temple, and then left.

No apology came from his mouth.

Same old Charles. Food was always his way of apologizing, but what Jared needed was respect. Which was something Charles would never, ever understand. Now he put a bounty on Jared's head to get him back into his life? Oh, should Jared take it as a romantic gesture of intense love?

No way!