Right Back After This

Episode 21

Riz is buzzing as he leans against the closed door. It had to be a silent buzz, and now, it must also be invisible. He doesn't get a chance to work through his feelings on what just happened- because feelings show in your body, on your face. Feelings are complicated and difficult, and his life must be simple enough for everyone to follow. He gets to know that it's complicated, and that's all he can examine before his feelings are shoved completely down, aside, to be ignored.

There are two things that weren't in his room before: a pink suitcase, sitting up against the back of a plush white couch, and a dark blue one that's lying open on the ground, already rifled through. Riz doesn't see Kiel, just the evidence of his habitation. He wonders if Kiel would be this messy if it wasn't on brand, if he didn't have housekeeping staff everywhere he went to keep things tidy. The reasoning behind his actions holds a lot of weight in determining whether Riz secretly likes him or not.

Riz tries to be grateful where possible. He made a deal with the devil to be here. It was his soul, for a good cause with a lot of material benefits- and immaterial losses. He doesn't get to think about what it meant to kiss his best friend, he doesn't get to speak to the people in his life frankly, and he's cursed to sexual repression- but there's a spa, and a fridge filled with delicious food, and a fluffy luxurious bed, and nobody is going to stop him from using whatever he wants.

It doesn't feel as good, without a soul. It doesn't feel as good when you're thinking about how it looks, wondering what angles you're being viewed from, as you change into the silk pyjamas that fit you perfectly and feel like cool water on your skin. As you search through the infinite channels on the intensely high definition television, you wonder what it would be weird for you to watch in front of others. As you rifle through that fridge, not even certain what half of what you're looking at is, you wonder if you'll be judged for the choice you make. Even innocently; if you take out the red cheese, just to test how differently it tastes to the white one you have at home, will it become some internet meme about your weird preferences? Less sensible things have happened. A slip of the tongue, a mispronunciation that Riz said late at night during a board game with his friends, is still a joke shared in the fandom. It's hard to decide like this. Harder when you've been staring for too long, afraid to make a decision, and now you're worried that the lack of a decision will be derided in and of itself.

Riz also doesn't fail to notice the huge bottle of champagne sitting just inside the fridge door. The problem with these things is that it feels reasonable. It's just champagne, it's right there. Alcohol was never the problem Riz had in the past, and it's normal to drink. It's provided for them, and it makes sense that he'd do it right now. With nobody around, it's not like he'll babble all his secrets directly to the camera. It'll feel good. It'll be the first thing that's felt uncomplicatedly good in a long, long time.

Riz checks around for cameras, but the thing that stops him isn't them. If he was in the position of everyone else- if he was Wrenley, already spiralling and having nothing to lose, he'd do it.

But he has a lot to lose. Sonja shouldn't have to commit patricide. He can last here long enough. He shuts the fridge, fighting like hell the urge to open it again.

He wasn't going to get in the spa, but it's the distraction he needs. He can see the rationalisations for his actions, as he's doing them. People talking about how he secretly wants to be more adventurous, that Kiel's influencing him, that he's proving a point. He strips his shirt, his pants off, looks around like maybe he's worried someone will see him. He knows someone will see. He can just pretend that he forgot about those hundreds of thousands of people.

The spa is deliciously warm, bubbling against his skin, and he sinks into that feeling. He gazes up at the sky, the emerging stars now that the sun has gone down. The problem with learning your constellations is that space is three-dimensional. On every planet he lands on, on his first night, he searches for the star cluster from which he can draw a line to Mekha, to Earth. He's never quite sure if he's found it right, but there's that little bruise on the sky, and Mekha must be there somewhere. He thinks of his mother, how she always told him never to forget where he came from. Even if he hasn't found it right, he never forgets that that's where he's trying to look. She said he'd be able to feel it, to know, the planet that humanity is anchored to, because God made it holy; and yet, it often feels hollow.