The corridor was quiet except for the soft hum of the ship, a constant, low reminder that we were out in the middle of nowhere. I leaned against my cabin door, glancing up and down the hallway. My brain’s practically screaming at me: Captain, shouldn’t you be doing something important? But there really wasn't much to do; the autopilot had like twenty uneventful days mapped out ahead, and I was restless as hell.

I started with Emily's cabin, two doors down, because, well, it was Emily. I knocked twice, waited a beat, then peeked my head in before she even answered.

“What do you want?” Her voice carried from behind a pile of clothes she was tossing onto her bed. Damn, she’d already got everything strewn everywhere, what a mess.

I stepped inside, like the oblivious jackass I was. “Just checking.” Smooth, Luca, real smooth.

“Checking, huh?” She stood up, hands on her hips, and she'd got that look in her eyes, the one that said "you're about to piss me off."

“Maybe I can help?” I offered, trying to be helpful, maybe a little too eager for her attention.

Emily just gave me that look, then sighed, like dealing with me was the most exhausting thing in the world. "Out. I’ve got unpacking to do.” Her body language was screaming "space," and for some reason, I couldn’t seem to read the room.

Before I could even process what was happening, she was ushering me backward, out through the door. It slid shut with a soft hiss, leaving me standing there, staring at the cold, metallic surface. Okay, maybe I should just let her be.

I turned, frowning, and walked towards Chris’s cabin. His door was wide open, which wasn't really surprising. I glanced inside, his bed wasn’t even made, boxes were scattered on the floor, and he was nowhere in sight. It was like he just dumped everything in there and vanished.

“Gym rat,” I muttered, shaking my head. Chris was probably already bench-pressing something heavy, sweat-slicked, and grinning like an idiot as he ‘broke in’ the equipment. I could see him, muscles bulging, the veins in his arms popping, sweat dripping down his chest. It's the kind of stuff I’d do, if I had more time and energy to be a jackass.

Ryan’s cabin was next, so I rapped my knuckles against the doorframe, poking my head in without hesitation.

“Luca! Come in, come in!” Ryan waved me in from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, unpacking a ridiculously fancy poker set. The silver metallic box gleamed in the light, and the neatly stacked chips looked way out of place in this ship. What a show-off.

“Fancy,” I said, crouching to get a closer look. “Marshalls, you said?” My eyes were drawn to Ryan’s hands, the way his fingers moved, quick and agile.

“Last-minute buy,” Ryan said, grinning like he’d just pulled off a bank heist. “Figured we’d need something classy for poker night on the edge of the universe.”

“Classy is a stretch,” I said, thumbing one of the chips. It did have some weight to it, I’ll give him that. I could feel the subtle grooves of the chip under my finger, felt the subtle weight of it.

Ryan laughed, and we were both grinning like idiots. “Come on, let’s see what Danny’s up to. If anyone needs distracting, it’s him.”

We headed to Danny’s cabin, and it was the complete opposite of Chris’s chaos. Everything was meticulously organized, everything unpacked and squared away. Danny looked up from his desk, where he’d been fiddling with a small holographic star map. He was all focused, his brow furrowed, like he was solving a puzzle.

“Hey, guys,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “What’s up?”

Ryan flopped onto Danny’s bed, not even waiting for an invitation. “Nice place. Tidy, boring, but nice.” He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “You see Zoe in that uniform? She looks incredible.”

“Can we not?” I said, running a hand down my face. Ugh, here we go. I hated how predictable we were.

Ryan propped himself up on one elbow, smirking. “What? You’re telling me you didn’t notice? Come on, Captain, you’re not that professional.” He knew how much I noticed.

Danny shook his head, already knowing what we were. “Ignore him, Luca. It’s easier.”

“I'm just saying!” Ryan continued, “Zoe is looking like a snack, I bet you anything she's got one hell of a bubble butt under those pants." He clapped his hands, "Just saying."

“And Emily…” I started, picturing her in my head. “Emily, man…” The way her breasts strained against the fabric of her uniform, I could imagine burying my face there.

“I know what you mean,” Ryan said, his eyes lighting up. “It’s like, she can't help but be a smokeshow. I bet those things of hers are like soft pillows.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “You guys are unbelievable! Seriously? Are you two always going to be like this?” He sounded annoyed as hell, and I could see the muscles in his jaw tighten.

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“What, jealous?” I joked, nudging him with my elbow.

Ryan chimed in, “Maybe we just need to loosen you up Danny. You’re always so focused on facts and science. How about we go for some girl-watching?”

I laughed, "That’s rich, you have a crush on everyone."

Ryan, chuckled, “Guilty as charged!” He paused, his mind wandering, “But, I wonder what Zoe would look like with…”

Danny interrupted, “Okay, okay, enough! Can we please focus on our mission or do literally anything else?”

Ryan, winked, "Fine, fine, no girl talk." He paused for a beat, "So… back to the mission? Do you think Zoe likes how Emily fills out her uniform more than she does when she sees Emily?" The pervert.

I snorted, "Yeah, I can see that. Emily has a huge advantage." I leaned into Danny's ear, "Poor Zoe, maybe we should make a club for people who get overshadowed by other, larger… assets?"

Danny threw his hands up, “I’m done. I’m going back to my star map. You two are hopeless.” He shook his head, and turned back to his map.

***

This day was a blur, like a bad dream where I was forced to move boxes all day long. We were hauling supplies out of the hangar, all those heavy MREs and flash-frozen food, and it was like a never-ending game of Tetris. Me, Ryan, and Joey were taking turns maneuvering these carts stacked so high they looked like they were gonna tip over any second, dragging them across the decks to the kitchen. Every time we hit a corner too fast, the stack teetered like it was about to topple, earning groans from Joey, and laughter from me and Ryan, especially when that stupid package of vacuum-sealed broccoli went skittering across the floor. Of all the things to spill… it had to be broccoli, the most pathetic of the vegetables.

“Careful!” Danny barked from across the hallway, struggling to keep his own load of science instruments balanced. “That box you just bumped? Yeah, it’s full of very delicate instruments.”

Ryan just grinned, shifting a box of wires precariously on top of another. “Why do they all look like overpriced soda cans?” He was teasing him, that little shit.

“Ryan!” Danny’s voice cracked with exasperation. The dude was about to blow a gasket, I swear.

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “We’ll be lucky if half your equipment still works by the time it reaches your lab.” It was all just a mess, boxes everywhere.

The real battle came later when we started setting up the lounge. The pool table alone was enough to make me reconsider the whole concept of recreational furniture. Moving that thing turned us into a pack of sweating, swearing caricatures of ourselves, and by the time it was finally in place, I was ready to swear off pool for life.

And it made you wonder, with all the technology we had, why couldn't they invent robots or androids to handle this kind of work? I mean, we’ve got spaceships that travel faster than light, but we were still lugging around boxes like cavemen. I'd invest my own goddamn credits if we could get some help around here. Seriously, where is the AI when you need it?

The lounge finally looked like something resembling livable by the time the sun—or a sad imitation of it from the ship’s artificial lighting—had set. The big TVs were mounted, the video game systems were powered up, and the sleek furniture was arranged around the electric fireplace. It was almost enough to make me forget how much I hated chores. Almost.

***

That evening, Joey took over the kitchen, all Gordon Ramsay with his ‘get out of my way’ vibe. He was yelling over his shoulder at anyone who dared to offer help. The result, though? The food was incredible. The smell of garlic, spices, and something sweet and caramelized filled the air. My stomach rumbled, but also, something else… Plates clattered as we sat down at the long mess hall table, the sounds of laughter and conversation echoing off the walls. For a minute, it almost felt normal. I could smell the rich sauce, the herbs, it was making my mouth water.

“This,” Ryan said, shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth, “is what I call a proper send-off. None of that bland freeze-dried crap.” His cheeks were full, and he was grinning.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Joey said, smirking as he waved his fork in the air. “The good stuff’s going to run out before you can blink.”

“Which is exactly why we need to make the most of what we’ve got,” Emily interjected, leaning forward like she was about to make an important announcement. I thought she was about to praise

Joey, but no—this was Emily, so of course, she had a plan. “That includes keeping the lounge sacred.”

Ryan blinked at her. “The lounge?”

Emily nodded, setting her fork down with authority. “Shoes off, loungewear only. It’s supposed to be a sacred space.” Her voice was firm, her eyes gleaming with that weird kind of determination she got whenever she started organizing things. I could see the muscles in her arm tighten as she straightened up. Maybe she should be our leader; that would be hot.

I groaned quietly. Here we go. She was on a roll, and I wasn’t about to stop her.

Zoe, of course, chimed in immediately, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, nothing’s ruining that vibe. If you want to hang out there, you’ve gotta play by the rules.” Those two were totally on the same page, a dangerous combo, to be honest. And I couldn’t deny that their faces had a sort of excited sparkle to them. What were they planning? They were definitely up to something.

Danny, chewing on a piece of bread, squinted. “The loungewear is, like, completely see-through, though. Is no one else weirded out by that?”

Chris leaned back, crossing his arms with a grin. “It’s not completely see-through, and it’s just the seven of us, Danny. If everyone’s in loungewear, what’s the big deal?” Oh shit, now this was getting interesting. I looked at Chris, the way his muscles stretched under his shirt, I knew he had to be thinking the same thing. I swear he could read my mind.

“It’s the principle of it!” Danny protested, his voice rising with indignation. “I don’t want to feel like I’m in some sci-fi fashion magazine ad every time I grab a snack.” I was with you on that Danny, but for completely different reasons. My mind was now racing, I couldn’t wait to see everyone in the loungewear. I wondered if I would be able to see… enough.

Emily just shrugged, like she was dealing with a toddler. “Consider it bonding. Besides, the rules are non-negotiable.” Oh, they were definitely non-negotiable, and I was kind of okay with it. This was going to be a mess, a good mess.

“You’re both tyrants,” Ryan said, pointing a breadstick at her and Zoe. “I hope you know that.” He was probably just as curious as I was.

Emily grinned sweetly, like she’d already won. “And you’ll thank us when the lounge is spotless and zen, not smelling like somebody’s sweaty boots.” She’d laid down the law, and I was trying to keep my face neutral but all I could think about was getting a full view of their figures. This was going to be interesting. This was my life now. Captain's log, Luca muttered to himself, today Joey made a feast, Emily became a tyrant, and I was curious as hell about that see-through loungewear.