Stars, Stripes, & Strange Blinking Lights

10

As the vehicle came to a stop, Zarin peered out the window, scanning the surroundings. The structure before them was unremarkable—a simple building with a faded sign above the entrance. He didn't know what to call it, but it seemed to be a central gathering place for humans. The building's exterior was weathered, the paint peeling in places, and the ground around it was cracked and uneven. There were other vehicles parked nearby, some covered in dust and grime. Everything here felt old, as if it had been used and reused without much regard for maintenance or order.

Bailey opened the door and hopped out, and Zarin followed her lead, feeling the sun hit his skin as he stepped out.

As they began walking toward the entrance of the building, Zarin couldn't help but let his gaze wander. This place, this small town, was unlike anything he had experienced before. The streets were narrow, the buildings clustered together in uneven rows. Everything looked worn, as though it had been used far beyond its intended lifespan. And the people—they moved with a kind of casual efficiency, their clothes loose and practical, their movements unhurried. He noticed a group of humans standing outside the building, engaged in conversation, their voices rising and falling in a rhythmic, easy manner. They laughed, gestured with their hands, and leaned against the walls as if this was their regular routine.

Is this how they live? Zarin thought, his curiosity piqued. Everything here felt... chaotic. There was no clear structure, no organization like the sterile environments he was used to. The ground was covered in dirt and debris, the air thick with dust, and yet the people seemed unbothered by it. The buildings looked as if they had grown out of the ground itself, rather than being carefully constructed. It was all so... primitive.

As they approached the entrance, Zarin's eyes flicked to the door. It was scuffed and slightly crooked, as if it had been opened and closed too many times. Above it, a sign with faded lettering hung at an angle, though he couldn't make out what it said. He didn't know what this building was for—perhaps a meeting place, or a center of trade. But humans seemed to gather here frequently, judging by the number of vehicles parked outside.

Just as they reached the door, a voice called out from behind them. "Bailey!"

Zarin stopped and turned to see the male human—Luke—leaning out of the vehicle's window. Bailey paused, then jogged back toward him. Zarin watched, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to understand the interaction.

Bailey reached the vehicle, and they exchanged a few words. Zarin couldn't hear what they were saying, but he saw the way they moved—familiar, comfortable. Then, without warning, Bailey leaned in and gave Luke a quick kiss on his lips.

Zarin immediately averted his gaze, a strange discomfort settling over him. He hadn't seen humans show physical affection before. It felt too personal, intimate, and it felt wrong to watch. He looked down at the ground, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

He glanced back at the building, focusing on its odd architecture as a way to distract himself. The walls were lined with windows, though many of them were smudged and opaque. Through the glass, he could make out vague shapes—tables, chairs, and a handful of humans seated inside, engaged in conversation. The interior was lit with a soft yellow glow, though it seemed dim compared to the bright sunlight outside.

Bailey returned, her expression casual as she rejoined him. "Ready?" she asked, her tone light, as if nothing had happened.

Zarin nodded, though his thoughts were far from settled. As they walked toward the door, he cast another glance back at Luke, who was still sitting in the vehicle, watching them. Zarin couldn't figure him out. Luke was loud, confident, his manner easy and unbothered. He seemed... human, in the most obvious way. And yet, Zarin didn't know what to make of him. There was something about the way Luke interacted with Bailey that Zarin couldn't quite grasp. A connection, perhaps, but one that felt unfamiliar to him.