To The Stars and Back

Episode 1

In the waning hours of the afternoon, the street painted a picture of tranquility, sporadically dotted with people fulfilling the day's final chores. A woman, unhurried, crossed the pedestrian path as a street sweeper methodically cleared the debris of the bustling day, while nearby, an older man turned the sign on his shop door to 'Closed' with a satisfied finality.

Inside a nearby apartment building, Catra Martinez made a little sanctuary of her modest living space. The room was sparsely furnished, but a plush pillow rested against the wall, making a soft throne for Catra as she delved into the world of her latest comic book. Beside her, a cold cup of coffee sat neglected, a testament to hours spent in other worlds. Her attire was casual, comfortable enough for her secluded lifestyle, and her hair was pulled back carelessly—practicality over style.

Catra's fingers unconsciously moved to scratch her head, disrupting a few stray locks as she turned another page. The city noises—honks, distant conversations, the rhythmic sweep of brooms—filtered through her window, pulling her attention away from the vivid pages. A frown creased her forehead, the intrusion unwelcome. With a sigh, she shut the book, her glasses following onto the cushion as she rose.

Fetching a cigarette from a small box on the counter, Catra slid into her shoes and stepped outside. She wasn't one for pleasantries or small talk. As she descended the stairs, an elderly neighbor offered a cheery 'Good afternoon,' to which she responded with a mere nod, her expression unreadable.

Outside, the wall by the stairs offered a momentary refuge as she leaned against it, lighting her cigarette. Her eyes, hidden under the brim of her cap, watched the street absent-mindedly. Everyone assumed her solitude was a sign of unhappiness, a theory she found both amusing and irritating.

The smoke curled into the air, blending with the fading light. The skyline was brushed with hues of orange and pink as the sun made its descent, a sight that almost made the noise bearable. Catra's solitude was her sanctuary, misunderstood by those around her.

Her attention was suddenly drawn by a clattering noise. Across the street, a girl was unloading boxes from a truck. Among these was a flower pot, cheerily adorned with a smiley face, which seemed starkly out of place in the urban drabness. The girl wiped sweat from her brow, her body language screaming fatigue.

Catra watched as the girl's gaze lifted and locked with hers. With an unexpected energy, the woman beamed, waving enthusiastically.

"Hey there!"

Caught off guard, Catra took a moment to assess. The girl approached with a large box, thrusting it into Catra's arms.

"You live in this building, right? Can you please give me a hand? I need to carry these."

Reluctantly, Catra peeked into the box. Books, clothes, and some decorations—a snippet of life packed into cardboard.

As the girl, still smiling, returned with more items, she queried, "Uhhh, can you show me where apartment 12 is?"

A sense of dread washed over Catra. "Apartment 12? No way... That's next to me."

Together, they walked up the stairs, the newcomer chattering away while Catra remained silent. Once inside the apartment, the girl placed her belongings on the counter and turned to Catra with a grin.

"Just anywhere is fine. It's a pretty sunset, isn't i—"

Catra didn't wait for her to finish. She dropped the boxes by the door and turned to leave, her patience worn thin.

"Ah! Wait a second!"

Catra stopped but didn't turn, her body tense.

"Thanks for the help, neighbor. My name is Adora Gray. What's your name?"

Catra merely grunted, an inarticulate sound of dismissal.

Adora clapped her hands, misinterpreting the sound, "Humph? That's a really nice name!"

"No... What?" Catra's confusion was clear, but their exchange was interrupted by Adora's ringing phone.

"Oh, excuse me..."

As Adora dashed inside, she called back, "It was nice meeting you, Humph!"

Catra raised her hand, intending to correct her, but the door shut before she could get a word out. Frustration mingled with resignation, she muttered to herself as she walked away, "Whatever."