The car rescues me from the cold with a quick jingle and a blast of heat from the open door. A masc presenting person sits inside already, face buried in a news scroll on his holo. Fine by me. I don’t want to chat to a stranger because we’re sharing a ride. I’d say something foolish because my nerves are shot from the encounter with Aubrey and Robert.

  And because I’m headed to my date with Evangeline.

  We pick up a third person a little way down the block, also masc presenting. They don’t want to chat, judging by the earphones they’re wearing. Perfect. Both are dressed far better than I am, with fitted coats and pressed pants. I run a hand over my should-have-been-washed-a-week-ago pants and try to hide my embarrassment. It’s somewhat easy to do because my mind has other things to focus on.

  Like all the info I need to get from Evangeline.

  The reading person exits the car in front of an office building. Lights from the city reflect off the iridescence of the glass. A neon sign near the door proclaims a list of businesses. Based on the news scroll they read while in the car, I decide that the person is a journalist.

  Mel would be proud of the made-up life.

  Five blocks later, the other person gets out, leaving me for the college campus. They looked far too young to be a professor, and from what I’ve seen, college students don’t dress that nice. An oddity. As the car pulls away, I elect that the person is a child genius and is a professor of physics.

  Then I’m speeding along in the warm cocoon of safety. The car makes its way east across the city, almost diagonal from the coffee shop, and towards the main cluster of scrapers. The car stops, and I bungle out in a Broadway performance of flailing limbs and awkward shuffling due to the coat and boots. On the sidewalk, Evangeline waits, smiling.

  She offers her hand.

  I take it.

  “You clean up nice,” Evangeline says with a bright smile.

  She’s lying. The mirror said otherwise with the bags under my eyes and the rumpled bright pink sweater I pulled on. But it’s nice all the same.

  “Thank you. I thought to myself, ‘What is the most Evangeline thing I have in my closet, and chose that.”

  She laughs. “You did well. I would wear that.”

  We head towards the street corner where the entrance to the neon festival sits. Although the city worships neon, decorates balconies and buildings with the element, strikes vividness against cloth and sole to decorate their visages—it all has nothing against the festival. Canopies in a myriad of colors hang over tables for artists and shops to display their wares. Neon lights slip up the poles of the canopies, hang overhead in a rainbow of bulbs, decorate the wire animal statues that find homes in alcoves and above where they are strung between the buildings, battling clouds for space. I’ve been to every year with Mel and Gen. I drop my eyes. That’s probably done.

  “You OK?”

  I jolt. Evangeline isn’t aware that the argument resumed after she left.

  “Gen and I continued the argument after you left, and it got ugly.”

  Evangeline’s brows raise. “Did you hit her?”

  ‘No! I did tell her to fuck off about a hundred times.”

  “Ah, so it became an explosion of anger.” Evangeline pulls me under a canopy selling jewelry.

  I pause, considering. “Yes, I suppose so. We’re not talking, and I’m not sure if we’re still friends.”

  “This is because of me,” Evangeline continues with a sigh. “Gen and I haven’t gotten along since we first met.”

  I knit my brows together, considering my words. “She told me about the shop. That it’s controlled and used to find new clients.”

  Evangeline places the earrings she was looking at back on the table. “Yeah, it’s not something I agree with, but Gen has never listened. I work for Prism, so I am the enemy that, as she sees it, took advantage of her and what she needed to do to survive.”

  “But didn’t Prism take advantage of her?” I ask, brows furrowing. Muscles grow taut, finding familiar homes, ready to release and defend Gen. An old habit, and one that I’m not willing to stop. Yet.

  “It’s hard for me to say. I’ve never seen the contract she signed,” Evangeline says with a shrug. “She’s been unhappy with the contract for a few years, but there’s no way for her to end it without giving up the shop.”

  “She would never.”

  “Exactly. She’s stuck. And so, she blames all of us who work at Prism.”

  I make a thoughtful hum, the note vibrating the back of my throat. It encapsulates so many things. Discomfort. Anger. Hurt. Sorrow. And longing. For Gen and mine’s friendship in its purest form. Before all of this, when I knew nothing and wanted little. When sickness didn’t ravage my body, reminding me with every movement.

  And with the noise’s end, it all rolls away, leaving me a buzzing shadow of emotion, ready to be filled. And the festival waits to do that.

  The street is crowded. It’s become a rainbow flash bang, moving in schools of fish up and down the asphalt. Evangeline pulls me into the lane, our bright clothing blending into the throng with ease. She holds me close to her, our fingers interlocked, our smiles wide.

  Together, we walk the street. Lights dazzle our faces, casting us into every color, beckoning us to dive deeper, closer, to the great neon ball at the center of the festival.

  And she is greeted with how people treat someone with a cane.

  Some don’t pay attention and knock into it, tripping themselves and almost toppling me. Others give a wide berth, like my defects are contagious. Few meet my eyes. They take in my face and dash their eyes away moments later, ashamed of their curiosity.

  After the third time someone almost makes me fall, saved by Evangeline’s arm across my front, she yells at them to watch where they’re going. She glares at the people who make comments, their voices low, trying to talk about me in secret. But Evangeline, in her steady way, treats me no differently.

  I’m just Jaqs to her.

  And it’s perfect.

  We pull away from a metal artist and head down the street. I point out the animals to Evangeline, her eyes shining bright with each revelation. She marvels at the neon creations from the stalls, and we giggle at the wholesale things people are trying to pass off as homemade.

  “I love this festival,” I say.

  “I’m glad you suggested it. I love it.”

  “Welcome to life outside of Prism.”

  She beams.

  I lick my lips. “I need to ask you something about that, actually.”

  She tilts her head, waiting.

  “I had a trade before this. Two people showed up. The one that’s been following me, Aubrey she called herself, and Robert.”

  Evangeline’s brow furrows, the lines harsh on her face. “What?”

  I run through Blake texting me out of the blue and the weirdness of the trade. Evangeline’s brow furrows more with each revelation.

  “And Aubrey said they were keeping an eye on me to figure out what you’ve told me. Also that Blake is texting me because of you. What’s going on, Evangeline?”

  Evangeline glances away sheepishly. “Let’s get something warm to drink, and I’ll explain.”

  I nod. We seek out one of the street vendors serving coffee.

  In line, Evangeline leans her head on my shoulder. Her hair is cold and tickles my cheek, but I’m not about to ask her to move. Even if I want to look her straight in the eye and tell her not to explain. That I don’t want this to be ruined.

  But I need answers. This all has gone on long enough.

  “This whole festival is interesting given the state of things,” Evangeline comments.

  “What?” I ask, snapping out of my worries.

  “It’s like a holdover from before. Does anyone need any of this?”

  “Maybe not, but desire is important,” I say. “People don’t have to live in blank spaces with only the neon walls for company.”

  “Yeah,” Evangeline agrees, lifting her head. “I mean need in the sense of over-consumption and the capitalistic aspect of it. No trading here.”

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  “Do you think of things like that a lot?”

  I don’t. I take our current system for granted and don’t consider how it came about or where it’s going more than a few years out. It’s not a great thing to admit. Even to myself, let alone Evangeline.

  Evangeline huffs out a laugh. “At times. Sort of have to when you’ve been with Prism as long as I have. It infiltrates your mind. At Prism’s core, with the buying of dreams and wants, trading them up to bigger and better things, it’s pretty capitalistic.”

  We reach the front of the line and order. I wait until we’re stepping aside, down a small alley, and leaning against a wall, cane tucked into my arm, before I continue the conversation. “And that doesn’t bother you? Because when you put it that way, it bothers me. Even more so when I consider the type of trades I’m being asked to do.”

  Pressure eases in around me, stealing the oxygen from my lungs, and makes me gulp down air. Dread and worry mix. They boil white hot in the pit of my stomach, fueling the increasing heaviness around me. Evangeline wouldn’t use me. I don’t want to believe Gen was right. I don’t want this relationship to be ruined by something like that. Nothing about this situation is adding up. My fingers drill a rhythm into the top of my cane.

  And there’s another aspect.

  The trades being tainted by capitalistic greed makes my dream contaminated by something that ruined our world. Cast millions into hunger. Destroyed the environment. I don’t want any part of that, but at the same time, the want to walk among the stars is interwoven with my DNA. It’s become a need to continue to live. There’s no backing out.

  The neon string lights on the wall glint off Evangeline’s white hair, coating it in different colors as the wall blinks in time to the music of the shop they belong to. Loud enough with the noise of the crowd to obscure anything we say. We’ve been cast into our own bubble. We exist, orbiting around one another like twin stars. Still trying to determine if we crash into one another and destroy everything, or create something new.

  I hope it’s the second. She’s been the thing to help me forget the constant pain I’m in.

  Evangeline licks her lips and stares into her coffee. “Jaqs, I want to lay all my cards on the table, but need you to listen without judgment.”

  Uh oh. I’m not going to like this. “All right.”

  “The capitalistic aspect has been ingrained in me since I was a kid. I have nothing else to compare it to, certainly not all of this.” She jerks her head out to the crowd. “And while I did say capitalistic, it’s still nothing like what existed before. I was being uncharitable. Your dream isn’t ruined by it.”

  The fingers tapping on my cane stop. I’m overreacting due to the argument with Gen. I’m still keyed up and ready to flee—from anything—even this date that I’ve been waiting for.

  Not everything is fire and brimstone like my anxiety wants me to believe.

  I’m allowed happiness.

  I chew on my lip. “But the trades Blake is asking me to do…”

  Evangeline raises one brow. “Have any been illegal? Really and truly. Not a gray area.”

  “No.”

  “Then you’re doing human things. Surprise, you’re not perfect, and the way to your dream won’t be either.”

  A backdoor into a database isn’t as pure as she’s making it out to be.

  “I think Robert and Aubrey are suspicious of our plan,” I say, staring into the coffee.

  Evangeline sighs and hangs her head. “That’s my fault. This…this isn’t the first time I’ve tried to leave Prism.”

  I snap my head up and stare at her, but her eyes have fallen to a stain on the asphalt.

  “Robert is still mad at me and suspicious because a year ago, I backed out of a huge deal that was being made in conjunction with Robert, and Prism lost the trade. I hid for like a week at a hotel. Prism pulled me back in the end. The loneliness ate me—the idea of never talking to my parents again. I was put back on track to rise within the ranks, with a few leashes, and Robert has been out to get me since. It’s why he targeted you. Why he asked you to hack into that database. He wants to bring me down because he got punished harshly when he didn’t even leave. In our family, I was the one who got chosen for greatness, and he was left behind.”

  “You’re related?”

  “We’re cousins.”

  I click my tongue, processing her words. I can’t believe she’s related to that slimeball. “It makes sense for them to be suspicious.”

  “I’ve been careful with gathering information, but maybe not careful enough. I’m sorry, Jaqs.”

  “Hey,” I reach out and grab her attention. She meets my eyes. “Wanting to leave a cult like organization and trying your hardest doesn’t merit an apology. Is the database I hacked into something that hurts the plan?”

  Evangeline runs a hand over her hair. Her face tightens, burdened by whatever was on that database. “Sort of. It’s the one that another customer is missing, and I’ve been trying to get back to them. He used you to attack me.”

  “Evangeline, I’m—”

  “Don’t. Don’t apologize. It’s on him, not you.” She shudders through a breath. “I need to tell you more about what happens when someone leaves and comes back. So you understand how important it is that I gather this information. So you realize how much it means to me that you’re helping me. When someone comes back, whether on their own or kicking and screaming, there’s a punishment.”

  The coldness of the day is warm compared to the icy chill down my back. “What type of punishment?”

  “I was locked up for months at a time. Forced to go through the training again. And I lost all respect and trust.” Evangeline blinks back tears.

  “At the diner, you said you lost all respect and trust, but that seemed recent?”

  “It is, I’ll…I’ll get to that in a moment.”

  I lick my lips. “There was that time period you didn’t come to the shop, a few months at least, was that when the punishment happened?”

  Evangeline nods.

  “And the person who was with you when you did return?”

  “My handler so to speak. One of the leashes I mentioned. I wasn’t allowed out by myself or allowed to do trades alone. Blake told me to restart a few months ago. Dom was my transitional trade. The handler was close at hand, but it was on me.”

  Evangeline hitches in a breath. “I told you in the park I wasn’t a good person. I needed you to save my own skin.”

  I lean against the wall and heave out a sigh. Tears prick my eyes, but don’t fall. I blink them away and swallow back the numbness. The pain. Because while I’m hurt, I would have done the same thing in Evangeline’s shoes. She didn’t do it to be malicious, to cause hurt, or to ruin my life. She was backed into a corner and took the path available to her. I happened to be the way out.

  But if it hadn’t been me, maybe we would have never gotten to this spot. This date. Or learned the truth about what lurks in the underbelly of our sparkling city. Because even in a utopia, people have wants, and everyone has a price.

  “Can I ask—”

  “Anything. You have the right to ask anything,” Evangeline says, gripping my hand.

  “Why does Blake care if you leave?”

  “Because she can’t control what I say or tell anyone. I know a lot of her secrets since we grew up together and dated. Know a lot of Prism’s inner workings, too.”

  “Did you think you could slip in that you dated and I wouldn’t notice?” I ask, disbelief dropping my jaw.

  “I did hope, yes,” Evangeline says with a shrug. “That’s why I was on the outs again. I broke up with her when I came back. She still has feelings and is mad.”

  “Jilted ex-girlfriend mob, maybe a cult, boss. Lovely.” I say. “And you want to settle for little nobody me?”

  She shakes her head. “You’re not a nobody.”

  I roll my eyes. “Evangeline, I have like two hundred followers on Flick. I’m a nobody.”

  “You’re not a nobody to me.”

  I take a sip of coffee. “How did Blake get in power?”

  Evangeline stares out into the crowd, the lights, and the noise that’s been obscuring our conversation. “Through violence.”

  Oh. I should have guessed that one. It’s all so much to process. So much hurt and pain caused by the very people I’ve promised to help. But Prism is too big for us to stop. We’re nothing in the grand scheme of the great gears and cogs that make Prism move.

  Still, I wish Evangeline had never gone through it all. Had never been ripped apart by the very people she grew up with. And yet, selfishly, I’m glad for it. Because it brought her to me. And if Evangeline is worried that she’s not a good person, being happy she’s here doesn’t make me a very good person either. We can be awful or wonderful, together. Whatever she wants. As long as she wants to be here, which makes the next question hard.

  It rips through my heart, threatening to spill my blood to the twinkling pavement below. Mix the red with the blues and greens of the neon to a muddy mess.

  I shrink away from Evangeline, ready for the blow. “Are you here because you have to be?”

  “No!” She lurches towards me.

  I freeze, caught between wanting to flee and being caught by her. “Or to save your own skin?”

  “No,” Evangeline says, quieter. She reaches out and takes my hand. “I’m here because I want to be. I’ve been wanting to tell you all of this for a while. The guilt of keeping you in the dark has been eating at me, but I’ve been scared.”

  “Because of Aubrey.”

  “And Robert.”

  “All over a trade?”

  “All over losing power. It’s what buys things nowadays. If it’s not power over people, it’s over situations.”

  I take a sip of coffee. “Could you stop being right for like two seconds?”

  “Can’t, it comes with being so beautiful.”

  I almost spit out the second sip.

  “You’re not mad?” she asks.

  I heave a sigh. The neon flickers around us. People shriek and laugh, pulling along friends, lovers, children, and parents. Somewhere, a band has started up and a trumpet splits through the ruckus of the crowd. We’re standing close to the coffee cart, and the roasted beans tickle my nose, masking anything else.

  “I’m disappointed, I guess,” I answer.

  “God, that’s worse,” Evangeline whines. “Well, I promise not to keep secrets from you from now on.”

  “Are there any others?”

  She shakes her head.

  I lean forward and, careful of the coffee in both of our hands and my cane, pull Evangeline into a hug. Her forehead meets my shoulder, nestling into my neck, and her arm is like a vice around my waist. Like she’s clinging to the present, and I’m the anchor. She sniffles and pulls away. There’s a gleam in her eye, but no tears fall. Evangeline reaches out and takes my hand. She links our fingers together.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to drop all of that on you.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to do so. And thank you for answering my questions and for the apologies. I was afraid you were hiding things from me because you were going to leave after the trades were done.”

  “I’m telling you because I don’t want to use you. I’ve been trying to tell you since the park. And I’m not leaving after the trades are done unless you want me to.”

  “You’re not?”

  Evangeline coughs out a laugh. “No. Did you hear me flirting with you since we started this? Half the reason I came into Gen’s shop so much was because I’ve been wanting to get close to you forever.”

  A smile springs onto my lips. Someone could come and kick me in the shin, and I wouldn’t care. Evangeline likes me. I’m about to vibrate out of my skin. Evangeline had a crush on me. My heart beats in double-time, readying my body for takeoff. Evangeline wants to stay with me.

  “Well, guess what? Turns out it’s mutual.” For once in my life, I’m smooth. “If Blake tells you to do something regarding me, or if she threatens you, tell me.”

  “Ok.” Evangeline straightens and clears her throat, dismissing any idea of tears. “Shall we continue? If you want?”

  I finish the small cup of coffee and toss it into the trash. “Let’s go.”

  We weave through the stalls and people, our hands still linked. Each clasping finger a paper chain of infatuation. Fragile. But linked all the same. Riding on a thin sliver of hope that nothing will come through and break it.

  For once, I dive into that hope.

  It lingers along with the kiss Evangeline presses onto my cheek when we part. I slide into the e-car, grinning like a child given candy. The electricity from her lips crackles across my skin and almost makes me forget the pounding in my knees and elbows. From the window of the e-car, the city zooms by a blur of neon lights, cutting through the dark of night. I lean into the window, smile still lingering on my lips.

  With a couple of presses, I open the market app on my phone. I’ve gotten a few followers on it, and that tickles me pink. I never would have thought that would happen.

  I type up a quick post and list it with a bad-quality image of the tickets I took before I left. Whatever. It’s paper, and I don’t want to show too much lest someone copy them.

  My holo pings.

  Dom MF Higgs

  You are not about to sell those tickets to someone else.

  Her message makes me chuckle.

  Me

  Why? Want them?

  Dom MF Higgs

  Yes! I’ll trade you for one of them. You keep the other and we’ll go together.

  Warmth spreads through me at someone wanting to hang out with me.

  Me

  Deal