Starfall

Chapter 6 - Ben

Rose knows everyone. She knows everything that happens in Culmes. So when I give her a list of questions, she gives me a list of answers without a problem. As well as everything I need for this to work.

I know exactly who I'm looking for. I know exactly what she looks like, and who she'll be with. And when I see her in the hangar, just like Rose said I would, everything starts falling into place.

I take all the shortcuts through town to get to the commercial flight station. I get there about ten minutes before I expect them to arrive, which is great. Now, stationed at the very front entrance, I have time to perfect my Charismatic Ben personality. AKA Salesmen Ben. AKA Not Real Ben. Either way, I have to be someone they need. Someone they can trust. And based off what Rose told me, Elyse Rowe does not easily trust just anyone. Especially not someone like me.

Which is why I have to be someone else.

I work on my smile first. Sure, maybe my smile now is fine. But I think I just have to make it look . . . happier. All I know is that Rose told me, and I quote, to try not to look like my mom just died. So that's what I'm doing. Pretending like everything is a-okay.

I try to work on my posture, as well. Straighten out my back. Loosen my arms. Shake out my legs. I have to look like an approachable guy. I don't know if I am usually—but it doesn't matter. These precious ten minutes are all about preparation.

While I flesh out my new fake personality, with the hum of civilians coming and going all around me, I go over my plan in my head. I know exactly what I'll say, what I'll do, and soon enough we'll be headed off to the Isthmus. After that, though . . . it kind of goes blank. I haven't actually gotten that far in the whole reclaiming Rose's Isthmus of the Sky. I'm still skeptical, but I'll do what it takes. I can't be Rose's pawn anymore. I have to live my own life.

The door opens beside me, and I glance up from my spot of self-preparation and see a group of three walking into the station. A moment of hesitation catches in my throat as I realize who those three people are. I grab the door before it closes, swing it open, and squint at the backs of their heads: black hair, red hair, and—oh no—blond. That's her. Oh, no. They literally walked right past me. And now they're in line for the ticket booth.

A part of me thinks, Let them spend their money. It has no effect on me.

But the other, smarter, more logical part of me thinks, If they get a ticket, chances are they won't even feel the need to listen to me.

And the biggest, most prominent part of me yells, YOU IDIOT! YOU'RE ALREADY FAILING! YOU MIGHT AS WELL GIVE UP WHILE YOU'RE AHEAD—

I try not to listen to that part.

Taking a deep breath, I step into the station. Time to do some on-the-whim improv.

I make my stride wide and confident. Or, at least, I try to. Thankfully, there's no one behind them in line, so this should be fairly easy, if I play it right—

A man steps into the line, cutting me off from my targets. It takes everything in me not to scream and kill this guy. Secondhand, of course. I'd just send him to Rose.

He's a big dude, and there are only so many customers in line before Elyse. So, riding some imaginary wave of confidence, I tap on his shoulder. He turns, slowly, and looks down at me like I've just killed his dog right in front of him.

I chuckle nervously, barely even realizing how anxious I actually am right now. The stakes are high, and I'm not doing a very good job at my job. "Hey there, bud," I say, doing my absolute best not to sound like a wimp. I've taken on guys twice his size, and yet here I am, my legs shaking as I stare up at this dude. It must be his beady little eyes—I can practically feel the daggers in his stare. I swallow hard, trying to clear my throat of my weakness before speaking. "My, uh, mom is dead—I mean, dying, and she's way up in Parlem City. And this line is moving pretty slow." Of course, right as I mention the line, it moves forward. I pretend not to notice. "Do you mind if I, uh . . . just . . ."