Orimi felt nervous. Not because of the video drones hawking her down but because of all the expectations surrounding her debut.

The surrounding room spiraled like a vortex, colored in a creamy white with turtle-green polka-dotted lights that blinked throughout the expose. A high cylinder podium sat in the middle of the room, seating a young woman and an older man. Several video drones surrounded them from all angles, some more cyborg-like, while others were intense with multiple glaring lenses as they churned and enhanced themselves. They were accompanied by different alien species of photographers, reporters, and newscasters standing on white and blue hovering metal pedestals.

One of the blue-disc-shaped drones eased through the crowd with a click of its inner mechanisms.

"Orimi! Over here, Orimi!" A young child-like voice excitedly whispered from the drone.

The young woman it beckoned to, seemingly distracted by her lap, looked up at the drone with a nod. A small amount of makeup undervalued the young woman's apparent beauty. With skin so smooth that it looked like it was under rigorous routine and no blemishes, marks, or lines on her blush face, it was almost like she was a doll of sorts.

The bot's lenses flickered with an array of reds and blues as if galvanized by her presence.

"Y-yes… Do you have a question?" Orimi murmured with uneasiness trailing after her voice.

The drone nodded and pushed past a couple of drones in its way. "Your sudden disappearance from the virtual entertainment scene saddened your fans. What's with the change of heart? Why come back despite your group's disbandment to become a solo virtual artist?"

Orimi bit her lip, then turned to the side, catching a glimpse of the older man sitting to her left. The man's narrowed gaze was attentive to the crowd of reporters, like a drill sergeant overwatching his cadets for any mere slip-up. Though his pupils had a color similar to the inner membrane of a cut watermelon, the vibrancy didn't allow his sternness and ascetic nature to cut through any who dared look him in the eye.

It would've used the hint to back off if it weren't for the drone's lack of emotional intelligence.

The drone inched closer, Orimi's mauve-pink pupils and bubble-gum-colored hair mirrored in its rotating lenses as if it was about to capture a picture. "Is your decision to come back perhaps due to the accident that happened during your time as a trainee patroller-"

"Enough about the past, please." The older man sitting next to Orimi interrupted with a deep and reaffirming tone. "We're here to discuss my daughter's future endeavors and the celebration of the royal sesnir's annual natal day. Please keep the relevance of questions to either matter and nothing more."

The ends of Orimi's lips drew into a half smile as she took a deep breath. "Thanks, dad…"

Her father's skin also had a pinkish hue, though his had a tad of red like a lush strawberry ripely picked. His defined shoulders and sharp jawline gave him the appearance of a man in his early thirties. However, his deep rosewood eyes with crow's feet at the edges showed he had wisdom past those years. His black steel-reflexive parka covered his white open-collared shirt and black bodysuit underneath. The coat created orange and gray diamonds that rippled across his neck and arms.

A set of crimson metal lines were carved under his right eye, the mark of a combatant in the Nors Brivoda, a special forces unit for the Nexerian Theta under Thy Nol. Though due to his large stature, unassisted by bionic implants, and no-nonsense demeanor, one would've already assumed he was a soldier. His acuteness and intellect, shown through his dialect, made it even more evident he was of the higher ranks.

"Sernova, Lyndova-cal." Another reporter with brown furred skin and tube-shaped eyes greeted him with a bow. "As an officer who was once stationed for the Mlynan Bureau in Woacan-Sector 77, is this your planned retirement to act as a manager for your daughter? Furthermore, the whereabouts of her previous manager is unknown. Do you have any insight?"

Lyndova, seemingly anomalous to his perceived nature, gave a hearty laugh, even taking the report by surprise.

"I'm glad I'm doing a well enough job to deceive all of you, but this is only a temporary position for myself. I still plan to keep my post as the Calavant Officer for Mly Bol. I do not, however, have any information on Setris Kurl. Still, it is an ongoing investigation under review by the branches of Aestero Pol. I assure you we will have an answer in due time."

Orimi couldn't help but let a smile crawl across her face. Her father was always like that, dependable, understanding, and resilient by a fault. He's always been there. Even after leaving her Patroller Institute, he kept in contact with her, despite her mother's obvious disappointment and opposition. After her spokesperson's sudden disappearance, she knew he was the right person for her vacant position.

Orimi looked down then tugged at her cosmic red dress that rippled with chromatic lines. While the neckline sat on her shoulders evenly, the upper sleeves curled downwards like a tulip then pricked into rugged spikes like a thorn. Her silhouette glistened with black nanocrystalline chips that interchanged its hemline into bubbling beads then twisted tips. It was a gift from the Liefdevoor Kleur, the royal family that colonized Amaranthus Yen, the planet of her debut performance. Their sesnir, or reigning princess, was a fan of hers while she was a part of Danxsels, her former group.

Orimi's mauve pink eyelashes that matched her long curls lowered beneath her gaze.

She always told herself that she was done with being a V-Idol. The responsibility of burdening the concerns of both fans and her team wasn't something she could bear any longer. But that wasn't the main reason for her departure. In fact, performing as a V-Idol was relatively easy for her.

Before her sudden career change, she'd studied linguistics and inter-species phonology at her Patroller Institute. And even though it was her mother's idea, it helped in the long run when she had to transcribe different songs and melodies to assist in her performances, as no culture or race listens to or interprets harmonies the same.

If anything, it was the boring lectures she had to sit through about a planet's customs, clothing trends and choice, language barriers, and how to act or speak when greeting the natives.

She sighed while reminiscing through all of her past changes.

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The Glan people in the Fognor Quadrant had no ears but did perceive vibrations through their columella, interior bone structures for transmitting sounds. So she had to hum her entire performance through a gelembung, a vibration bubble that emitted a sensational frequency to her listening fans.

Actually, she couldn't lie. She enjoyed that one.

Or like how the Yaspazat people would only allow her to perform if she wore their traditional robes—Which would've been okay if it weren't the living skin of a Devanaught, after their fresh kill.

Orimi shuttered at the thought of her skin being pressed against its wet and slimy insides again.

Probably the worst experience she had was when she had to learn a language that included high-pitched syllables for the TauTau people in the Depborto System, Sector 80. Though she loved giving performances to allow people in faraway quadrants and distinct languages the chance to hear them perform, she couldn't talk for weeks after that recital.

She looked over to her father, continuing to answer questions on her behalf in front of all the reporters and interviewers. She always admired his ability to be comfortable in any situation, despite the obscurity of people or disadvantages he possibly faced. That determination made her decide to become a trainee Patroller in the first place.

Her head lowered, with a hesitant smile spread across her lips.

"But I guess… I'll never be able to make him or mom proud…."

"… Hm? Did you say something, Orimi?"

Her father now, with a hand held in front of the interviewers stopping their cacophony of questions, looked down at her with raised eyebrows.

Orimi gasped, then furiously nodded several times before giving him a wide smile.

"Not at all! I think the sesnir and her royal family have waited long enough. I think it's time to give them the performance she deserves!" Orimi enthused while pumping her fists into the air and jumping from her seat.

Her father sighed and nodded once before standing from his seat and straightening his jacket on his shoulders. He then raised his hand in the air as if a ruler were about to dish out commands to his lower subordinates.

"That's all the time we have for now. Any other questions will be answered personally on the Q network by Orimi after her performance."

Orimi's eyes widened. It was true that she always went on the Q for a private session with fans after performances, but she never told him that.

Does he maybe… Does he maybe watch my performances from time to time…? He's never told he has, but…

A jolt coming from the floor made her come back to reality. The hexagonal platforms holding all the interviewers now lowered into the ground while the platform they stood on rose higher into the spiraling room. Several purple-grooming drones flew down from holes in the room and began padding down Orimi's dress, curling her locks and looking her over for any specific imperfection.

Orimi looked over to her father as he began to take a small metal canister from his inner coat pocket. The canister was outlined in red neon lights that faded to yellow as it shot up a metallic cigarette curled into tightly twisted tips at its edges.

"You know mom doesn't like it when you smog." Orimi sighed.

"That woman… Such a hypocrite. She smokes twice as much as my officer subordinates and has the nerve to question when I do it."

Her father then sticks one end at the side of his mouth, and with a flick on its other end, he releases a cloud of white smoke from his nostrils.

"But that's just how she is, always looking out for others more than she does herself."

"Hmph!" Orimi puffed her cheeks and looked to the side. "If you say so."

“… Orimi! … Orimi! … Orimi!”

As the platform raised further, the chants and cheers from above echoed and bounced through the enclosure like multiple beating drums.

Orimi watched as all the grooming drones bowed and wisped into small holes around the room as the platform jolted before a sudden stop.

The chants became louder until they clouded her senses. Her heart began to throb as she lowered her head and breathed heavily through her mouth. She looked down at her trembling fingertips with a gasp, then tried to swallow past the dryness in her throat.

Is this… Am I… Nervous…? I've never experienced this before… Is it because I've had the others with me during performances? Or maybe it's because this is my first show after all that's happened… Maybe this isn't a good idea… Maybe I should…

"I can taste the unease perfuming the air, you know. It's been like this since we landed here." Her father sighed.

Orimi grabbed onto the sides of her arms and nodded. "I just… Maybe this isn't the right time, is all…."

"Second thoughts, huh?" Her father blew another cloud of white smoke into the air. "I never asked you this, but why did you decide to become a V-Idol in the first place? Your mother or I could've given you successful positions with great pay and the least effort… So why indulge in something like this?"

Orimi opened her mouth but hesitated for a moment for the words to come out.

She left her post at her Patroller Institute abruptly without telling her kin about her future endeavors. She felt pressured by her parent's expectations and their positions, and that caused her to lose confidence in herself. But she recaptured that confidence in her performances, and that's what…

"And that's what makes me want to perform…." Orimi murmured under her breath.

Her looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. "What now?"

"I've… I've never felt more wanted than I do on stage. It feels like I'm sharing a piece of myself with all those watching, but they also share a piece of themselves with me… It's beautiful, and it just feels me with such-"

Orimi looked down at the droplets of water sliding down her icy-glass heels with a sniff. She then wiped the trail of tears coming down her cheeks and took a deep breath.

A metal bridge began to materialize from the platform into a large hatch at the side of the room. Her father nodded her head, with a smile growing firmly through his wrinkled cheeks.

"You should use that same feeling whenever you feel unsure of yourself. You can't ever get rid of that part of yourself that longs for an emotion that a person, belief, or action can give you."

Her father then walked down the bridge with a wave. Orimi eyes shot open with a determined gaze. She then gripped her hands into tight fists with a nod.

"I can't ever get rid of that part… Wait? So what made you long for- "

She turned around, but the door closed with her father's black boots being the last she'd see. The hatch above her began to open up with the cheers and screams coming into earshot. Bright yellow and red lights glittered in the night sky as she rose onto the stage.

The midnight skyline was vivid with sparkling gem-like stars of sapphire and ruby. Long exploration crafts and standalone ships, now turned upright, had their crew that sat and cheered on their hovering landing pads.

Orimi took a few steps onto the leading platform, made of a foamy white surface that made a ripple rainbow effect as her heels clicked onto the ground.

The spores of Suelocs, a perennial, exotic, and vibrantly colored plant only found on Amaranthus Yen, sprinkled the air like white pixie dust.

Orimi, taken aback by the overwhelmingly scintillate display, began to tremble with angst. Her senses returned to her, and she then began to hear her name being chanted and cheered around her.

Dozens of levitating venues holding hundreds of onlookers surrounded her from all angles. Though she could pick out some languages and dialects, while others were entirely foreign, the idea that she was their full focus was clear.

This, undoubtedly, was going to be one of the most fulfilling performances of her life.

Orimi took a deep breath before blinking away the tear droplets steadying on her eyelashes with a smile.

“Let’s do this.”

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> My family regularly speaks Portuguese inside the house. While I'm not as fluent as my siblings, I try to use some methods to learn better (as learning languages like Japanese and German have countered my language intuition). Because of this, some words in my book (along with others in Book 1) will have prefixes, suffixes, or words with similar meanings or derivatives.

>

> For instance, sesnir, is related to the Dutch word for princess (prinses), and Liefdevoor Kleuri is a rough translation for colorful love or love of color also in Dutch.

>

> If you find any other words you may think have different meanings try and look them up! ❤️

>

> Sernova is a regular greeting traditionally used by the Novaiscian tribes for people closer to the sun (their seers or prophets). In modern novasic times, it's used as a greeting for those in high or respectable positions.