Vaporwave Fiction

Mall Life: The City Of A Million Lights

Part 2

 

Written by: Termascur 

 

Published On: December 7th, 2021

 

Art by Priestess

    We left the Witch’s Brew with a few hours to kill. Even in a less-traveled part of town like this, crowds had grown uncomfortably thick. William and I set out in search of someplace to sit and relax before the party. We passed a couple tea-and-sandwich shops, but they were all filled to capacity. Stepping into a larger concourse, we took a left toward an area with more restaurants.

             The Pan-Demonium Bakery, its yellow and purple logo swirling like primal chaos, had no free tables or room to stand. Most places we passed had crowds gathered outside waiting to get in. The Red Palace Akamotian Buffet, with its ostentatious façade and sign wrought in faux-rubies, told us we couldn’t even step inside without a reservation.

             “This is ridiculous,” I grumbled. “It’s never this busy! Where did all these people come from?!”

             “You’d see crowds more often if you left your house when normal people were up.”

             Continuing on, we reached the anchor at the end of this section; an organic grocery store called Health Nut. The ‘a’ was an apple formed in red-and-green neon and a marigold yellow peanut leaned against the second ‘t’ at a jaunty angle. Prices were nearly criminal, so it earned the nickname “Wealth Nut” amongst the less well-to-do locals. We passed through brick pillars with wooden accents and went in. For whatever reason, maybe because nobody wants over-priced raw almonds on New Year’s Eve, there was hardly anyone in the store. We made our way through the clusterkerfuffle of aisles designed to get you lost and sat in the little cafe. We stayed for a couple hours, talking about nothing, until it was time to head to the party.

             Down the gauntlet of crowded restaurants, we returned once more to the central atrium. We boarded an escalator to the first floor. Halfway down, William tapped me on the shoulder and leaned close.

             “Opera house.”

             Without pause, I crouched down and threw my arms to the heavens, staring into the middle distance with as much dignity as I could muster. Behind me, William placed one hand on my shoulder and almost certainly had the other pointed to unseen horizons. I could hear a crowd of teen girls below, laughing in surprise and maybe even mockery. I hardly cared. They wouldn’t understand.

             At the bottom of the escalator, we released our dramatic poses, straightened our clothes, and walked on as though nothing happened. Down one of the longer concourses was a branching path added sometime in my teens. At the time, the powers that be expected a surge in business from outside of town for some reason. However, that business never came and many of the shops had since been replaced by dusty art exhibits and a branch of the library. On the far end of this was our destination.

             The Handsome Mansion was a luxury (overpriced) apartment located in a place called The Wooly Mill. It was originally intended to be an upscale department store to serve as the new branch’s anchor. It was built in the style of a Sybaran lumber mill with brick walls, high windows, and wooden beams. It quickly went out of business and remained vacant for years. Recently, it was renovated into spacious apartments with great views of glacial runoff and poor heating.

             The party was complete sensory overload. A spacious first floor and a loft-style second floor all full of people I didn’t know. Loud music by bands I had never heard of blared over the sound of a dozen conversations. The music was the perfect embodiment of the party. It faded in and out as if it kept dipping underwater. I could swear it got stuck at one point; the same thing repeating over and over. The perfect background music for my social purgatory. I spent my time looking around for Eudora or standing awkwardly beside one of the four-ish people I knew engaged in conversation with people I’d never met.

             As midnight approached, the crowd grew more rowdy and I could see my friends becoming drunker and drunker. Still no sign of Eudora. I found William trying to climb a tapestry and waved him down.

             “HAVING FUN?” he shouted.

             “NO.” Having to shout to be heard hurt my throat. “YOU SEEN EUDORA?”

             “SHE LEFT.”

             “WHAT?!”

             “THERE’S NO NEED TO SHOUT.” William wagged his finger at me. “SHE CAME BY EARLIER, BUT LEFT WHEN SHE DIDN’T SEE YOU.”

             “WHEN WAS THIS?”

             “WHEN YOU WERE IN THE BATHROOM.”

             Figures, the two minutes it took me to pee is exactly when she showed up and left.

             “TYR AND JERAI TRIED TO GET HER TO STAY, BUT SHE SAID THE CROWD MADE HER UNCOMFORTABLE.”

             “I. KNOW. THE. FEELING.”

             William threw his arm around my shoulder. “HEY.”

             “WHAT?!”

             “WANNA WRESTLE?”

             Midnight came with a sloppy, drunken countdown. Within an hour, most of the guests had left. The party had been whittled down to the residents of the Handsome Mansion and a few others. Tyr was the only person besides me who was relatively sober. But then, he was a giant so maybe it took more to get him drunk. Our friend Riley, on the other hand, could barely stand and kept mumble-screaming about how he wanted to go to Roy’s Diner. That was usually a sign the party was over.

             After chatting on the couch for a while, Tyr stood up. “Who wants to go for a walk?”

             William jumped down from the loft. “Me.”

             “You’re just going to run away,” I said.

             “Nahhh…” William booped my nose. “I’m fine.”

             “Don’t worry,” said Tyr. “I can handle him.”

             “Whatever,” I said. “But he’s going to run off.”

             Jerai stood up to join us. I looked to see who else was still there.

             “Where’s Riley?” I said. “He was passed out in the living room.”

             After one collective shrug from the group, he headed for the front door and found it ajar. We went out and Riley was passed out in the process of dragging himself down the hall. Presumably on his way to Roy’s. We stepped around him and headed for the concourse.

             This time of night, the only light in the concourse outside The Wooly Mill came from dim yellow lamps and the occasional glow of a neon sign. Between the mood lighting and most people being at home, I vastly preferred to go out at night. As we stepped outside, I breathed in the atmosphere, and William took off running. Tyr looked at me.

             “I’m not going after him,” I said flatly.

             Tyr sighed and ran after William. His long legs quickly caught up to the man half his size. He reached out and grabbed William by the shoulder. Instantly William grabbed his wrist. Tyr’s willowy limbs soared through the air as William flipped him over his shoulder. He landed flat on his back with a dull thunk. William kept running without looking back and disappeared up a flight of stairs.

             “You okay?” I hollered to Tyr.

             “Yeah,” He groaned back.

             Jerai turned to me. “Yo, I gotta go drop something off at my friend Willy’s, you wanna come with?”

             I wasn’t keen on meeting new people, and Willy was a new person. “I dunno, I’d rather just go home.”

             “Willy’s a cool guy,” said Jerai. “You’d like him.”

             “It’s been a long day.”

             “Come on, it’s not that far,” said Jerai. “Keep me company for a bit.”

             I had nothing better to do and Jerai had a casual charm that was hard to say no to. I shrugged and said, “Sure.”

             Jerai and I walked down along for a while. We passed the hall where the leisure district was located. Its multitude of lights stood out like a shifting aurora in the late-night gloom. From there, we went around some escalators (currently off, disguised as stairs) and passed a line of high-end clothing stores. Between an expensive shoe store and a nail salon was a dark hallway I’d never really noticed before. I just assumed it was a maintenance tunnel. Jerai made a sharp turn and led me down it.

             Suddenly, we were in the bad part of town. There were no lights save for the light spilling out of shops, some of which had been taken over by squatters. Scaffolding and plastic sheets created a maze. The ceiling had been ripped out exposing metal beams with darkness beyond. Floor tiles were covered up by plywood or else ripped up exposing deep dirt holes. The omnipresent music of the mall wasn’t broadcast here. I could still hear it becoming distant, distorted with reverb as we plunged deeper into this place.

             The people here were dressed to match the grungy atmosphere. Mismatched vintage clothes from a bygone era; colors faded with age. They walked with faces covered and heads obscured. Many wore goggles that cast an eerie red glow from within the shadows of their hoods. A guy in an oversized sweater with blinking lights stitched into it stumbled through the streets.

             “DRUGS?” he shouted. “ANYONE KNOW WHERE I CAN GET SOME DRUGS?”

             A man with a purple mohawk approached him as we passed. “What kind of drugs?” he said helpfully. “I got adrenaline and dopamine.”

             “Where are we?” I whispered to Jerai. “I didn’t even know a place like this existed.”

             “The pit,” said Jerai. “Pretty sick, huh?”

             I had to admit, I liked the aesthetic here way more than the white pillars and manicured greenery found elsewhere. The grungy construction and poor lighting gave the place a lived-in feel.

             We entered a nail salon hastily converted into an apartment. Jerai introduced me to his friend Willy. He was short and skinny with tired eyes and stubble. The two of them talked for a bit before Jerai went in the back to use the bathroom.

             The second we were alone, Willy, or Willas Marcus von Burgundy VI, told me about how his family were disgraced nobles. His mother sold their family’s assets to pay for a drug habit and his abusive father died in a suspicious accident. He was currently writing a rock opera about it.

             Jerai came back in the middle of Act II. “Yo, you guys wanna go to Roy’s?”

             One of the few places in Neon Springs open 24/7 was Roy’s Diner. It was also the place all the drunkards went when they could barely function. But hey, what was New Year’s without a little food poisoning? So we all headed off to Roy’s.

             On our way out of The Pit, we got stopped twice by people looking for cigarettes. Near the exit, we passed some drunk guy trying to climb the scaffolding. It made me wonder where William ran off to. As if on cue, my phone rang. It was William.

             “Hey, where are you?”

             “Do you want a girlfriend?”

             I blinked. “Beg pardon?”

             “Do you want a girlfriend?”

             “What’s this about?”

             “Do you want,” William paused for effect, “a girlfriend?”

             “Uh, I mean, it depends on-“

             “Just answer the question,” William snapped. “Do you want a girlfriend?!”

             “Well, yeah, but-“

             “You got one.”

             My mind went blank. “What?! Who?!”

             “Come to Roy’s and you’ll see.”

             “Is this a joke?”

             “Just trust me,” he said. “Get over here right now.”

             I sighed. “Fine, I’m already headed to Roy’s. See you in a bit.”

             “What was that about?” Jerai asked.

             “I don’t know,” I said. “He probably got me an anime poster or something.”

             Roy’s Diner was tucked in a side path between a bank and doctor’s office. On the border of late night and early morning, the façade stood out with its horizontal lines of chrome and red neon over wide windows. We entered the establishment and were swiftly greeted by a waitress whose attitude indicated she was sick of dealing with drunk people. Then a familiar face popped up from a booth.

             “Hey guys!” said William. He turned to the waitress. “See, told you my friends’d be here!”

             “So you really did come here,” I said as we approached the booth. “How long have you been here?!”

             “’bout an hour,” said William. “I got waffles and ham.”

             “What was that on the phone?” I asked. “If you got me a Season Champion poster, I hope you remembered that Kaede is best girl.”

             A familiar figure popped up from the booth behind William. “I like Yuki better,” said Eudora.

             “BAH!” I jumped in surprise.

             William threw his arms open. “Surprise!”

             I stared in confusion at Eudora. Her pink hair was up in a side ponytail that draped over the shoulder of her black denim jacket. From where I stood, I caught just the barest glimpse of a purple and aqua plaid skirt and fishnet stockings. I shook my head to regain my composure.

             “So wait,” I said. “The girlfriend William was talking about. That was you?”

             Eudora tilted her head in confusion. “Girlfriend?”

             Color drained from my face. I felt sick. The stench of cheap food and burnt grease was not helping.

             “Whose girlfriend?” Eudora asked.

             “Well, uh…” Panic Mode: Initiated. “William called and asked if I wanted a girlfriend so I was like ‘it depends’ and he said I had one and I was like ‘who’ and he told me to come here and I thought he was playing a prank but here you are and I thought he was talking about you and,” I paused to take a breathe, “I’m sorry, I thought you knew what he was talking about and please don’t hate me, but like, ever since the second I saw you I’ve been-” The words caught in my throat. I stared at Eudora like a rabbit looks at an oncoming bear.

             “You’ve been, what?”

             “Nothing, forget it.”

             Eudora cocked an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

             My heart pounded. The edges of my vision blurred. I glanced side-to-side debating whether to just run. “Yes?”

             Eudora smiled. “It’s about time.”

             My brain hummed with the effort to process what just happened. I slumped into the booth across from Eudora and tried to read her expression. A light pink flush in her pale cheeks. A faint mixture of amusement and something else, I can’t quite place. Some emotion I’ve never seen in a 3D girl before. All I could manage to say was, “What?”

             “I like you too,” said Eudora. “I wanted to see how long it took you to pick up all the hints I’ve been dropping, but I was getting sick of waiting.”

             William stood up from the booth and patted me on the shoulder. “Step sixteen.”

             With that, he grabbed his plate of waffles and moved to a different booth with Jerai and Willy to give us some privacy. We were alone. What could I say? What should I say? This was new territory for me.

             “So…” I tried and failed to make eye contact. “Are we like… a couple now?”

             “Yeah,” said Eudora. “I guess so.”

             Suddenly, I started laughing.

             “What’s so funny?”

             “I just realized, William tricked me into asking you out.” I shook my head. “That sneaky little garden gnome.”

             I signaled the waitress and ordered a round of coffee. The two of us talked until columns of golden sunlight pierced the early morning gloom on the concourse. Caffeine and adrenaline kept my tired body going. The new year was off to an amazing start. Who knew what tomorrow would bring in this retail wonderland.

 

 

Vaporwave Fiction

Mall Life: The City Of A Million Lights

Part 1

 

Written by: Termascur 

 

Published On: November 2nd, 2021

 

Art by Priestess

    In the city of Neon Springs, you can live your whole life without ever stepping outside. The entire population of nearly 70,000 is contained in a single sprawling building. Frozen tundra stretches to the horizon outside its glass walls and elaborate skylights. Businesses dominate the lower floors lining the neon-soaked halls and cavernous atriums with their glass elevators, white column forests, and islands of manicured greenery. Three towers rise above this massive mall containing a maze of hallways and more apartments than there are people to live in them.

             In Neon Springs, you can live your whole life without going outside. But here, “going outside” has a slightly different meaning. It just means leaving your apartment. Something that I am loath to do unless absolutely necessary. Which is why…

             “It’s New Year’s Eve,” my best friend said as soon as I answered his call. “You want to go do something?”

             “Nope.” I replied and immediately hung up.

             When you’ve been best friends since childhood, you reach a point where rudeness is not only acceptable, but expected. So it was no surprise when I heard him pounding on my front door to the tune of his favorite song. Reluctantly, I got up from my desk to answer the door. I couldn’t watch my cartoons in peace with that racket.

             I opened the door and saw a recognizable — if unfamiliar — figure. It was my best friend, William Brownfoot, alright. I could tell, even if his face was obscured by a steel bucket helm. It clashed horribly with his band shirt and shorts. In one tattooed arm, he held a steel heater shield that had yet to be painted.

             He shield-bashed my door open and seized me around the torso. I struggled and protested, but he held on tight and dragged me out the door. We stopped just outside so I could lock up, then he put me in another hold and continued dragging me down the hall. This wasn’t the first time he dragged me outside, but he hadn’t done it quite so literally before. The arms and armor were new as well.

             “Now that you’re up,” William said as we headed for the elevator, “wanna get something to eat?”

             “Sure,” I said, thinking about my dwindling bank account. “Nothing too expensive.”

             “Food court?”

             “Food court.”

             We took a slight detour so William could drop the helmet and shield at his place before we headed downstairs. The elevator doors opened to reveal a tundra bathed in shifting light of the aurora visible through the glass back. Snow fluoresced under the faint purple moonlight. I kept my eyes on the scenery as we descended towards the ground. Then the roof flashed by and replaced the natural scenery for man-made.

             Off-white columns and tiles took on the color of whatever neon sign happened to be nearby creating a colorful tapestry of capitalism. Multiple strata of commerce, entertainment, and sustenance rose around a central atrium of fountains and potted plants. Stairs and escalators zigzagged their way between levels. The young and those who still wished they were strolled about in clothes that lit up like glowsticks, flashing patterns of fluorescent color. The cyalume scene that started a few years ago was still going strong.

             We stepped off the elevator and into the bustling crowd. I noticed the faint eternal music that was designed to blend in with the noise of the crowd. Something about how nondescript it was stuck out to me. Perhaps it was my inherent paranoia, but I suspected it contained a hidden bard song designed to lull the masses into spending more money.

             On the short walk to the nearest food court, we had a meandering conversation about what food to get from the bevy of affordable options. We could get something filling and meaty from under the swirling pink-and-blue sign for Holey Stromboli. Waffle Castle offered the most food for the least money. Uncle Tingle’s Twisted Cinnamon was easy to eat while we walk around. If we were feeling brave, we could get something garlicky at Lizard Express. No, there was only one thing on the menu for us.

             We headed for the shady corner of the food court near the bathrooms and escalator. A man with a mustache as big as his attitude stood below a sign wrought in faded green and the same shade of neon orange as the grease that dripped from their signature product. We each ordered a giant slice of pepperoni pizza from Mr. Greasy’s. The man, who may or may not have been Mr. Greasy himself, leaned against the counter and watched us eat from afar.

             “So, what’s going on?” I asked, staving off food poisoning with sheer willpower. “I assume you had a reason to drag me out of my hermit cave.”

             “I talked to Tyr this morning,” said William, “and they’re throwing a party at the Handsome Mansion.”

             A number of our friends rented a large apartment together, so someone gave it the nickname ‘The Handsome Mansion.’ On account of the handsome men living there. It was a good pun, and I liked it better than the alternate nickname, ‘The Hot Boy Hotel.’

             “As much as I like Tyr and the rest of those guys,” I tried not to sound too negative, “sitting in the corner while everyone else gets drunk isn’t my idea of a good time.”

             William chuckled. “You say that like you have a choice.”

             “You can make me go outside,” I said, “but you can’t make me have fun.”

             “We’ll see.”

             Since it was still relatively early, we wandered around looking for something to do. That’s what we said we were going to do, but we really just spent a while wandering around the mall, talking. The conversation was about everything and nothing. It was the sort of conversation you have when you’ve known one another most of your lives and have no filter. One minute, we’re having a deep philosophical discussion about religion; the next, we’re discussing whether barbecue sauce makes for a good ice cream topping. All the while, my eyes casually scanned the passing scenery.

             For all its problems, Neon Springs is a lovely place. From the food court with its array of smells and backlit glass bricks we went up the back escalator. We felt a gust of cold air from the public garage where all the machinery for traversing the vast tundra outside is parked. Then up an elevator to a public lounge area. I looked down at the public pool on the floor below. Lights under the water shifted through a rainbow of colors. From the lounge, we came out by three sets of escalators that went straight down three floors. Rows of columns flanked the stairs on either side and strings of lights dangled from the glass rafters above. Once back on the ground floor, we made a right and headed for the twisty path to the leisure district. Low ceilings and long, pointless ramps twisted, split, and reconverged in a maze of halls and potted plants. The halls here were lit by little more than the neon signs marking various establishments. White tiles were stained pink and teal. At last, in the vibrant depths, we stumbled upon something to do.

             Gold lines and purple letters glowed over an especially dark doorway. Twinkling lights and a cacophony of music lured us in. There, our senses were overwhelmed by a colorful display of holograms, big screens, and mechanical wonders. The Dream Machine arcade was, simply put, awesome.

             Our favorite game to play together was a mech pilot sim with full cockpits called ‘Mech Suit Madness.’ They were supposedly based on old training simulators for the military. The game featured a VS mode and a co-op story campaign. We played through the co-op until we died in the Battle of Betelgeuse stage. Then the real game began.

             We selected our units. I went with the Momongaruda, a glider unit focused on aerial mobility, concussion bombs, and strong melee combat. William selected the Silvan, a unit with active camouflage and a focus on sniping. I furiously worked the twin joysticks and hammered the foot pedals to avoid instant death. Had to keep my movements erratic. Our battles were always a test of whether William could snipe me before I figured out his hiding spot and got in close. We played best of five. I gave it my all, but in the end, I lost 4-1.

             “That was fun,” I said as we left the arcade. “Now I want coffee.”

             “The Bean Counter’s nearby.”

             “Hmm…” I tried to sound casual. “I like The Witch’s Brew better.”

             “Oh, really?” said William. “Big fan of their signature blend, are we?”

             “Fine, I like the aesthetic,” I said. “Problem?”

             “Sure you do,” said William slyly. “Alright, let’s hit Witch’s Brew.”

             Despite the multitude of nocturnal people in town, few things were open past 8PM. And yet, you couldn’t throw a rock without hitting a coffee shop. So many coffee shops, yet nothing to do when you’re up late.

             Located in a section of town with an abundance of used bookstores and magic shops, The Witch’s Brew was a cozy cafe decorated with crystals and antiques. They made fresh baked goods and the coffee was decent, but what I really liked was the uniforms. The staff wore long robes over their casual clothes and wide-brimmed conical hats. The target of my unrequited love also happened to work there.

             I met Eudora the previous year when she sat next to me on the first day of a history class. While I thought she was pretty from the moment I saw her, what really drew me in was her behavior. She was friendly if spoken to, but largely kept to herself; like me. Before class, she would read fantasy novels or scribble math equations in her notebook. I asked her if it was for another class and she told me she made up math problems for fun. When she noticed that I was often alone and casually mentioned that I rarely go outside, she asked to be my friend. I was initially startled by a girl showing interest in me, so I sprinted away without a word. Undeterred, she kept asking to be my friend until I conquered my nerves and said yes.

             “Look who’s working,” said William. I could feel his sly grin.

             “I see that.”

             I really did. The hem of Eudora’s faded purple hat and robes glowed fluorescent pink to match the hair that draped over her shoulder. It made her normally pallid complexion look flushed. She smiled as we approached the counter.

             “Hey, there. Come to see me?”

             William and I answered at the same time.

             “Yes.” “No.”

             William and I looked at each other.

             I cleared my throat and said, “Someone dragged me outside, so I thought I’d get some coffee.”

             “So, what can I get for you?”

             I looked up at the menu. Aside from the uniforms, what set The Witch’s Brew apart from the other coffee shops were its house blends. There were a lot of them and they all had names like ‘Strawberry Nirvana’ and ‘Stolen Youth.’

             “I’ll have the Midnight Wonderland,” I said. “And a galaxy brownie.”

             “Excellent choice.”

             “I’ll have the Pumpkin Patch Nightmare,” said William. “And one of those giant cookies.”

             “Coming right up.”

             There were enough customers behind us to keep Eudora busy while we waited for our orders. One of the other employees gave us our orders and we went to sit down. I positioned myself facing the counter so I could keep stealing glances at Eudora.

             “Just tell her that you love her.”

             “What?! No!” I exclaimed. “I can’t just be like, ‘hey, be my girlfriend.'”

             “That’s literally how that works.”

             “Besides, she’d probably reject me.” I frowned into my coffee. “Then I’d be out one of the few friends I have.”

             “Ask her to cast a spell on you.”

             “She’s not a real witch, it’s just a uniform,” I said. “Besides, she probably hears that fifty times a day.”

             As if on cue, some guy with three popped collars said, “So, can you cast a spell for me, cutie?” And then he winked with an audible tinkling sound effect.

             “See?” I said, gesturing with secondhand embarrassment. “I don’t want to be that guy.”

             We finished our coffee and then it came time to leave. There was a lull in the customers and I was able to get a moment to say goodbye to Eudora.

             “Well, sorry you have to work on New Year,” I said. “Maybe I’ll come back before midnight?”

             “You can, but I won’t be here,” she said. “I’m off in an hour.”

             “Well, it’s good that you don’t have to work all night.”

             “I wonder what I should do,” she said. “I don’t have any plans.”

             My higher thought processes switched off and words spilled from my mouth faster than I could register what I was saying. “There’s a party at the Handsome Mansion tonight, you wanna come? I understand if you’re busy but, y’know, if you aren’t and-“

             “Sure, I can stop by.”

             I blinked in confusion. “See you later.”

             William wore a smirk as I approached. He patted me on the shoulder and said, “You just reached Step Eight.”

             In our early teens, I became a shut-in after some issues at school. William put me on a ‘Socialization 12-Step Program’ as he put it. Every so often, he would say that I completed a step. I honestly can’t tell if he’s making this up as he goes or if he planned this all out when we were fourteen.