To Be Loved

“Honey, you’re a mess,” Madam Lian said. Lipstick smeared the right corner of her tooth.

She motioned for her to come closer, Lian’s finger wet with spit as she wiped away excess mascara from Elise’s eyes. The only sign she had even been crying.

“This isn’t the time for tears; the clients have been pushing this showing forward for months, and we can’t afford to let them down.” Her eyebrows pushed together as she rubbed away. Her sharp fingernails were almost breaking skin at each forceful push inwards.

Whether it was concerns for Elise, or concerns for the money that would later fill her coffers. Elise really couldn’t tell.

Sweat seemed to gather at Madam Lian’s brow as she rubbed away at Elise’s makeup-covered face, her eyes scanning her twice over to be sure Elise was prepared.

The sound of the main hall pushed its way into the backrooms, the auctioneer calling off another number to come to the stand as the bids started. The fast pace, dizzying even in the seclusion of the dark.

“Go! Go on with you, there’s no time to dally,” Madam Lian said. Pushing Elise towards what was surely her doom. “You’re the star of this evening's event. Your number is up next. You need to be ready!” A hurried tone carried in her voice.

Each push, a bruise to Elise’s ego as she was ushered like cattle towards the curtains at the entryway to the stage. The final push shoving her into the spotlight.

“And here we have it, folks- the star of tonight’s show, Elise Paige, the 2 time Oscar winning actress from planet Centauri b. Her red eyes and white hair, the key features of her planet’s species!” The announcer's voice carrying itself through each vibration in her body.

The stars of the space dome seemed to stare down upon her, as if they could declare judgment for her past. The chaotic crowd was a simple background to her own inner turmoil.

“For such a fine, olive colored specimen, the bids tonight start at 100,000 galactic credits- a heavy price for an eternity with such a beautiful lady.” His own voice seemed to bring a salacious smile to his face.

Before he could bring the mallet down, shouts across the hall broke out.

This surely can’t be how it ends? The great Elise tied to any of the bidders for a simple mistake. A line she skimmed over, a punishment unfitting of the accused crime. Perhaps political greed or a setup, she felt unjustly punished.

The noise of her mind nearly blocked out his voice. A broad man, she could only assume. His species seemed unfamiliar as she looked at his pale blue skin. Connecting lines that flowed across him, disappearing and reappearing between cloth and air, something vastly unfamiliar. All hidden behind a singular black mask and suit.

“ 2.4 million credits,” he said. His hand rose with assured confidence, one that could only come from a childhood of spoilage and wealth, as though it was his birthright to bid for the livelihood of another.

A twisting sensation filled her stomach. Silence carried in the hall, as the announcer in all his glory declared the bid.

“2.4 million credits, everyone! Do I hear 2.7 million? Anyone at all?” an echo in a now silent crowd, the single voice that moved the auction forward. “Really, people? No one else?” feigned dismay in his voice. “Well then, if that’s how it’s going to be! Going once- going twice- Sold to number 428!”

The mallet hit the reinforced steel of the auctioneer’s podium 3 times. Shortly before, she was grabbed by the guards and quickly shuffled off stage to meet the man who now owned her.

Any earlier assurances gone with the wind as the man from before approached her still standing figure. His body became echoed by the light in all the wrong ways as though he was not meant to be here, a force outside the natural laws of time and space. A wall that prevented her past from ever coming into contact with her present again.

He stared down at her, zero emotion expressed through the suffocating silence of the mask.

“So this is the great Elise, then, huh?” Something akin to light danced between his eyes. A predator finally catching sight of the prey it’s been stalking for eons.

“My name’s Victor,” he said, his hand coming forward as though to shake on some secret they both shared. His voice muffled.

Unsure what to do, she simply stared right back at him—an uneasy tension built with each second that passed in silence.

Sensing her discomfort, he reached out and pulled her hurriedly towards the transport. An elongated tube that stretched towards the energy core of the spaceport, devices that connected to the verified space vessels of a number of elites.

As Victor ushered Elise forward into the device, he snaked his arm around her back before giving the operator the go-ahead. The sickening twist and pull through the device, akin to one being squeezed and pulled apart all at once. A sensation that passes in the blink of an eye, so much so that you feel as though you just imagined it all.

As the room came into focus, Elise noted the only startling difference between before and now was the clarity in which Victor’s face was displayed.

No longer is there a mask; rather, its cold brutality is replaced by a scar that sears across his face. From forehead to mouth, a wide and deep crevice has etched its way into his skin. Due to a lack of protruding nostrils, his breathing was unnatural and jarring, the air rushing in and out through 2 thin slits in his face. As though his body can’t figure out whether he requires oxygen at all.

He stared down at her with a careful grin. “Got something on my face, huh? Mind telling me what it is?” his scolding tone in contrast with a knowing smirk.

Flushing red, a pilot caught in an asteroid field.

“Truthfully, nothing- sir-”

“None of that now, Elise, call me Victor; you remind me too much of a friend of mine for me to be comfortable with such meaningless titles.” A slight chuckle as he carried on. “Truly, you both share that same hair color and skin,” an appraising stare looked her up and down.

“Of course, then Victor, but truly it was nothing. I- to be honest with you, have never seen someone of your species before.” A sure statement, like any other. Of which seemed to catch the man off guard.

“Well, thank you then for admiring the view, but that’s not the only reason I purchased your company. Of which I’m sure you’re dying to know,” he said. That rich tone carried condescension like it was drizzled in honey. That same stare as before, one in which they were playing a game where he knew all the answers and she did not.

“On with it then- for the low cost of 2.4 million credits, to what favor do I owe you?” She said. Victor’s eyes came to slits as he assessed her. As though she were a clothing item that shrank in the wash, something loved now all too tight and ill-fitting, something wrong.

“I merely needed help around the house, and wanted one of beauty,” a flippant response that poorly suited the intensity of his earlier statement.

“I can only hope you’ll be helpful and listen. After what you did during Madam Lian’s last winter Gala, I can only pray that I can put my faith in you,” a cruel edge to his tone, a poke at her current situation.

A grand Gala in which she signed her name, a cursory glance over the contract's terms, with small details here and there, things she’d missed. Numerous slights that chafed at the events' VIPs, her own negligence leading to her fall from an actor’s grace. How was she supposed to know recording in the venue would be a deadly taboo for a number of VIPs from the outer planets? It still feels ridiculous to admit, even as she bears the consequences of her own stupidity.

“This is nothing like that, I assure you, sir. I can handle myself fine.” His eyebrows raised in feigned interest. “It was a mistake, one of which I will not repeat again,” something curt and final to Elise’s tone, as indignity at her situation sowed itself back in.

“I’m jesting! Of course, I understand,” he said. Arms raised in surrender, as though it were all a joke. “You’ve had a long day- follow me, I’ll lead you to where you’ll be staying.” A slight tilt in his lips, as though that’d be enough to forgive him.

Just as quick as his sudden cruelty had been, he whipped around unnaturally fast towards a dimly lit hallway. Walking towards his goal, knowing that she would follow no matter what. His long strides almost lost her in the winding tunnels of his space cruiser.

When he finally came to a halt, her own hurried paces sent her rearing into his back.

“Oh! Before I forget, always wear these glasses wherever you go, it’ll be the most efficient way for me to reach you anywhere in the ship,” he said, brushing her off as if she weighed nothing. In his hands, he held out a tinted pair. The suddenness had her picking them up and sliding them onto her face without question as though reason had escaped her for a moment.

“This door, at the end of the hallway, is your room.”

The gold line that slashed its way through the black metal of the door reminded her eerily of his scar. Like someone had mended something broken back together again with gold and wire.

The sound of the pressurized locks coming undone filled the empty space as she hesitantly stepped forward. A singular bed, lamp post, and side table, the main light coming in from the glass windows looking out into the isolating unknown. Yet it felt lived in; the limited objects still had wear, as though they’d been used since birth.

Victor closed the door behind her, as he went to Galactica knows where, leaving her finally alone.

She laid down on the bed, only the sound of knocking raised her from her sheeted comfort.

“I brought you something to help settle your stomach before you rest. My friends say it’s the best after transport.” Victor’s boyish grin felt like something you’d see in a shitty rom-com. Elise’s uneasiness felt overwhelmed by the hunger from today’s processions.

He carried it over and set it down on the table next to her bed. “Eat it whenever, no rush okay?” he assured.

“Thanks- it’s a kind gesture. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” A level of uncertainty in her voice.

“Of course, Elise, I’ll be seeing you,” he said. An attempt at a reassuring smile set her both on alert and at ease. His actions always clash with one another, never quite good yet never quite cruel. Like he didn’t know how to treat her.

As he turned to close the door, he seemed to suddenly remember something.

“Before I forget, my room is just two doors down the hall to the right. It’s hard to miss, come see me if you need anything!” a somewhat hurried final note, as Elise was left to stew in silence for the first time all night.

The porridge Victor had brought to her room was steaming and warm. A small comfort, as each spoonful she shoveled down made the days from before feel heavier and heavier.

Her mind was unnaturally still as she drifted into a dreamless slumber.

***

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Three months had passed since her arrival, and she’d gotten used to her new norm. A rocky start, yet with each week that passed by, she found herself getting closer and closer to the man who bought her.

His company was a welcome comfort in the months since, perhaps a form of Stockholm syndrome, given that it was mostly just the two of them in this isolated space. Day after day spent with Victor made each memory fade, a happy dream to cover up the isolation and ignorant betrayals of the past.

Perhaps that was why it’d been so easy to let Victor in, his emotions flipping on the drop of a hat. Yet his kindness was so sweet, just him and her. It’d been so easy to tell him about the accident that took her parents as a kid. An empty hole to dump all her sorrows into. The only suspicious thing about him, though, was how he truly didn’t need her help as he had claimed. He was highly organized, leaving little audio notes to himself. He knew how to clean his cruiser and cook, so she was often left to her own devices during the day.

As she forced herself up and into the hall, wearing outfits he’d chosen. Flowy and comfortable, something she’d never have chosen herself, yet he insisted that she try it. Maybe it was the way his face lit up at her when she wore them, or the way he got a little softer with her, that made her like them. She couldn’t recall anymore, he felt like her everything.

The sound of footsteps and the tapping of fingers on a phone echoed through the ship as Elise moved about the cruiser.

“ -er distress signs have rapidly increased recently. Perhaps invest in a tea that reduces stress? Note down for later-” Victor’s voice echoing throughout the ship as Elise moved through the hallway, past the living room and airlock entryways to grab breakfast from the kitchen.

He’d prepared her new favorite dish, one he’d gone out of his way to introduce to her. Saying all his friends seemed to love it, so she would surely love it too.

It had taken her a while to get used to the texture, yet the blue, transparent goo had a taste like none other. Quite literally, as she’d never had anything like it before in the galaxy.

Mail sat on the table: ads from distant cruiser companies, luxury goods, and one labeled ‘old photos’ from mom.

Cracking a mischievous smile, she fanned through the holographic photos, each one older than the last. One of Victor covered in what she could only assume to be his species’ equivalent of teenage acne. Another of him and a girl who looked like a carbon copy at his high school prom. Brother and sister, then? Bold lettering in another language, and piss poor quality decorations giving away both him and his date’s awkward discomfort.

It was strange seeing Victor so young, yet each one brought a grin to her face. A man so stoic and organized was once a weird teen? Surely not, yet it existed. Each hologram was a reminder that there was so much to him she didn’t know. It made her want to tease him to death, just to see the embarrassed flush that made her heart flutter.

Her hands stopped on one in particular, Victor, and a girl standing side by side. It’d been uncanny, like looking into a memory you don’t remember. The scenery of a planet she’d never been to before reflected back at her, with a carbon copy of herself in the center. The eyes, though, were bright green. Like the color of spring, a sharp contrast with her own.

As she turned around, Victor seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“Victor- what is this? Who is she-”

His arms wrapped around her, a crushing embrace, cutting her off in a mere second. Relaxing slightly in his hold, she calmed her heart. It wasn’t unusual for them to comfort one another since her arrival, yet the hair on her neck raised. Worries and concerns filed themselves in the back of her mind. It was Victor, Tory, the man she felt like she knew better than even her mother.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that Doll,” his voice echoed his remorse. “It’d been so long-”

His voice seemed to fade into the background as Elise slowly felt him creep closer to the airlock. Each small step forward was a sinking reminder that she was not her own person. She’d been bought and sold; his love could always be conditional.

She almost let it happen; her family was dead, no one truly cared for her. Yet she couldn’t let her family’s memories die with her. The fight in her rose to a roaring fire, as she pushed and pushed, each kick a silent resolution to keep her promise.

“You were so close to perfection Elise-” his voice was shaking, edging the line between sadness and anger. “You just had to mess it all up. Why couldn’t you just stop your incessant snooping.” A low timbre to his voice as he whispered his woes into her ear.

“You were becoming just like her,” his voice broke with sadness. “Why are you so- frustrating-”

Victor’s arms crushed her ribs. Her arms felt numb and fuzzy as joints popped into unnatural positions. Her face felt flushed red, and words could no longer find themselves in her struggle. An animalistic cry sounded from her, as flesh broke and pain erupted throughout her being.

He glanced down at her, a sad yet clinical look in his eyes. As he pushed open the airlock’s doors and set her down in the chamber, he pulled out that device from before.

“Hey Carlson, the latest girl you chose got hold of some older holos. This is the third failure; the scenario is no longer on its correct course.” Disappointment flooded his tone. Yet no pity for her reached his eyes.

“It seems as though no matter how similar the copy, nothing truly emulates the original. Start the process to acquire a new-”