Chapter 9: Fashion Fiasco and Zero to Midlife Crisis in 2 Seconds.

Hi, it’s me again, Sierra Fox. Everyone’s favorite ex-space tyrant who just finished snooping through her little sister’s social life. (Hey, don’t judge me. Pixelated heartbreak gives you a free pass, remember?)

Lily didn’t notice my snooping, thankfully. But I knew my luck wouldn’t hold forever because as I was rolling on my bed, acting as innocent as possible, she announced—Mom’s working late, and Dad’s taking us out for dinner. Outside. Like, at a restaurant. With people.

Now, “outside” sounds simple enough, right? Except when I glanced down at my current attire—turnip-planting pajamas—I realized that unless the restaurant is catering specifically to space farmers, I might need a wardrobe upgrade. And the only other clothes I had were still in the laundry bin.

Use my spaceship to wash my clothes? What blasphemy are you talking about?

Naturally, I did what any reasonable space tyrant would do: I opened an online fashion magazine and prepared to replicate something suitable. Easy, right? Wrong. Enter Lily, who decided to kill the vibe by swatting the replicator control right out of my hand.

“You know that copying other people’s designs is stealing, right?” she said, arms crossed like she was about to drag me to intellectual property court.

“Oh, right, Earth has this stupid rule,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“It’s not stupid! It’s called intellectual property! Intellectual,” Lily huffed, as if saying “intellectual” twice would make her point more sophisticated.

“Alright, alright,” I grumbled, not wanting to get into a debate about Earth’s moral high ground. Fine, I’ll play by her rules. I switched from Earth fashion to intergalactic fashion instead. Now that was more my speed—and definitely out of her jurisdiction.

After a quick browse through the Intergalactic Trends 30714 catalog, I found a white glittering dress with a neckline so deep it basically defied the laws of physics. Oh, and it came with a flowing cape that extended behind me for three meters—practically a train. Perfect. Dramatic. Regal. Space tyrant chic.

Lily took one look and elbowed me in the ribs like she was trying to save me from fashion suicide. “Are you going to a wedding or something?!”

I huffed. “Look, it comes with anti-gravity and automatic size adjustment. Practical—even in a buffet situation.”

“No,” she declared, yanking the replicator control out of my hands. “Let me handle this.”

Lily scrolled through a few more holographic images of outfits and pointed at something that looked innocent enough—a red costume.

“That’s an Orion sex slave uniform,” I said, deadpan, pointing at the description.

She blanched. “Oh. Okay, no.” She hurriedly picked another one.

“That’s a Vendar mourning dress,” I sighed. Earthlings… She can’t even read simplified space empire language.

After dozens of failed attempts—most of which included clothes better suited for prisoners, slaves, or widows—we finally landed on something: my empire’s secretary uniform. It was a tragic step down from my tyrant glory, but at least I wouldn’t look like I was headed to a star system’s funeral.

It was a sharp, blue-green gradient dress with a hint of glitter. Formal but playful, with enough flair to remind people I wasn’t just your average citizen.

Lily also had fun with it and ordered a dress for herself—a stylish outfit that looked perfect for a lively gathering, but let's not tell her it was designed for intergalactic barmaids.

We both stepped out in our new outfits, striking exaggerated poses in front of the mirror. I looked like a corporate diplomat with a flair for the dramatic, while Lily's dress gave her the appearance of a space-age socialite.

We stared at each other for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

“Let’s face it, you have zero fashion sense!” I laughed so hard I could barely breathe.

“And you! Are you going to Comic-Con?” Lily pointed at me, wiping her tears.

“Maybe… maybe my first choice was better,” I wheezed.

“In your dreams!” Lily laughed so hard she doubled over.

After we recovered from our fit of laughter, we agreed not to mix space fashion with Earth.

So, I ended up with my sister’s hand-me-down. Right, an ex-space tyrant had to wear Lily's high school dress. It was a casual one-piece—a simple, knee-length dress with floral patterns and a comfortable fit, perfect for everyday wear. The soft fabric felt surprisingly natural against my skin.

“Wow, this looks surprisingly nice on you,” Lily exclaimed.

Oh, this might not be so bad after all.

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By the time we finally settled on a dress, Dad was already waiting with the car out front.

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“Sorry!” I shouted as I hopped into the car. I cast a side-eye at Lily, who was practically glowing with the smug satisfaction of crushing me with her superior Earth fashion sense. For the record, I still strongly disagree.

Dad glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Wow, Sierra, you look especially beautiful today.”

I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Thanks, Dad. Coming from the guy who used to sell fake Rolexes, I’m sure that’s totally an unbiased compliment.”

And for reasons beyond my comprehension, Lily beamed like she was the one being complimented.

Lily and I slid into the backseat since the shotgun seat had been permanently claimed by Mom years ago after one too many sibling fights. The memory of that particular summer still stung—mostly because I lost.

However, as we rolled down the road, I couldn’t ignore the fact that Dad’s SUV felt like it was one pothole away from completely disintegrating. The whole thing sounded like it was held together by sheer willpower, duct tape, and prayers of intergalactic cultists. Also, the engine made a noise that could only be described as a dying space walrus.

“Dad, this car sounds like it's auditioning for a disaster movie,” I remarked.

He chuckled. “She's got character.”

“Character from the Final Destination, maybe,” I muttered.

As we sped past 30, the car started shaking ominously, and I gripped the seatbelt like my life depended on it. The last time I felt this close to death was when I tried smuggling biogenic weapons past an imperial fleet blockade—in a cargo ship with failing life support.

Luckily, I located a car showroom ahead of us, the one with a big T as its logo.

“DAD! STOP THE CAR! PULL OVER! THERE!” I screamed and pointed at the showroom.

“You see, the mall also has toilets,” Dad said, glancing at his watch.

“No! That’s not it! Pull over, NOW!” I yelled. Luckily, he turned the car before I used telekinesis on the steering wheel—which, by the way, looked like it might fall off with just a little force.

“Alright, alright, I’m parking. Next time, use the toilet before we leave the house, alright?” Note to self: don’t bring Dad on any smuggling operation.

“No, I’m going to buy a new car for you,” I said slowly so he could understand.

Dad laughed like I was joking. I wasn’t.

I fished out my space phone, which I’d disguised to look like Lily’s ancient Earth gadgets—an “oPhone.” I pulled up my account balance and showed him the numbers on the screen.

We almost crashed into the parking lot.

Dad glanced back at me, eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and awe. “Where… did you even get that much money?”

I shrugged, playing it cool. “You know, cryptos.” I left out the part where my space tech could mine hundreds of bitcoins faster than anyone could say “blockchain.”

Dad, still recovering from the near-collision, stared at me like he was trying to figure out if he should be proud or horrified. Meanwhile, I leaned back, arms crossed, with a smug grin plastered on my face.

“Now,” I said as I opened the door and slid out of this deathtrap. “Let’s go check on the new car.”

I led Lily and Dad into the pristine, glass-fronted showroom. The scent of new leather and freshly cleaned carpets hit me like a wave. A salesperson spotted us immediately, his eyes lighting up like he’d just found his next commission.

“Welcome! How can I assist you today?” he asked, eyes shifting instinctively toward Dad.

Of course, I thought. Predictable.

However, since my priority is to blend in, I decided to take a look at the black SUV sitting in the corner. Its glossy exterior reflected the showroom lights. I peeked inside, and it seemed to have plenty of space. And from what I sensed, this car runs on electricity. Well, primitive, but upgradeable.

Maybe if I replace its battery with—

“Really? I could get this car if I buy it now?!” The sound of Dad pulled me out of my reverie.

“Right, dear customer, we have this exact color in stock. It also comes with vegan leather, which is better for the environment,” the salesperson pitched while smiling like he was going to get an early bonus.

I wondered what vegan leather actually is. Last time I checked, only animals have leather. Maybe it comes with a side salad, but that’s not the point.

“Hey, Dad, shouldn’t we buy something more reasonable? Look, there is an SUV over there.” I ran to him before he made a mistake in his life. Buying a red car in his fifties, please.

“But look at this one! Zero to sixty in under two seconds! It's like driving a rocket on wheels.” Dad hugged the sports car’s steering wheel like it was his long-lost soulmate... with more passion than he’s ever shown Mom—even on their anniversary.

I kind of understand how Dad likes the car that goes whoosh like every boy on Earth, but forgive me for not being impressed. Even my moon-sized ship can go 0 to 600 m/s in two seconds. So, I just looked at him with deadpan eyes.

“Dad! Are you sure that Mom is going to approve of this?” Lily, who had been watching us from the beginning, stated matter-of-factly. However, Dad just devolved into a child.

“But it's red, and there is only one left in the showroom.” He looked at me with pleading eyes.

“Well, that SUV version has a few problems with the rear passenger door. I also suggest this car,” the salesperson said.

Thanks for trying to clear your stock.

As Dad refused to get out of the driver’s seat, I gave up and sighed.

“Well, I could pay for this, but it’s your job to explain it to Mom.” Because I’m not going to explain why I bought a red sports car for Dad.

“Really?” Both Lily and Dad were surprised, though their expressions were totally different. Lily’s was one of disbelief, while Dad looked like a kid who’d just been told Santa was real—and he lived next door.

“Yep, can I pay in full with a transfer?” I asked the salesperson, who also blinked in surprise.

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After some paperwork and calling Dad’s friend to handle our old ticking time bomb, we drove the red car—Plaid or something—out of the showroom.

“Slow down, Dad! If you get a speeding ticket, Mom's gonna flip,” Lily warned.

Dad, however, laughed it off like a maniac, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

In no time, we reached Mom’s workplace. She didn’t recognize us at first, but after a few of Dad’s impatient honks, she finally came over. She fumbled with the door handle before sliding into the shotgun seat.

“Midlife crisis much, Jim?! And how are we going to pay for this?!” Mom yelled.

Well, since Dad had promised to explain it to Mom, I let them duke it out while I silently picked up my mobile device, installed the messenger app Lily used, and started adding everyone as a friend.

Maybe I should also add that Rob guy. After all, isn’t it an elder brother’s job to spy on his sister’s boyfriend?