(GQ #13) Adventures in Spacepunk

16. The True Meaning of Spacepunk

"What's that smell?" Aiden set one foot on Apennine Boulevard, and already, he wanted to leave.

"The fish towers. I dunno why they put the shopping district so close to them." Jun looked toward two identical towers a few blocks away.

"We went there on a field trip once." Goggles' brother–Kyle?–pointed out the one with smoke coming from the top. "That's where fish dogs are made. They taste a lot better fresh."

Goggles sulked. "I wouldn't know. All I got was bun."

"Russell, this is why it's important to communicate. I thought I made sure you guys each got a piece."

"Mine was only this big," he pinched his fingers together, "and you and Aaron were already eating yours. Why didn't you just get your friends to buy two more? They could afford it."

"My friend Trey has issues overextending himself."

"You let him buy the first one."

Kyle shrunk into his shoulders. Aiden caught him muttering "I was hungry." Louder, he asked "Where is Aaron, anyway? He hasn't texted me back in a while."

Aiden decided he didn't care to keep up with the conversation, instead taking a moment to take in all the plastic-dressed weirdos with bright, gravity-defying hair. His reflection stared back at him from a store window, just the same as the rest. Back in LA, he'd barely belong on a street like this.

Something was missing here.

The crowd slowed their walk to a crawl between a skyscraper and a clothing store for goths. Punks? Whichever one had dark, spiky clothes. People called Aiden a punk, usually as an insult, sometimes with more meaning behind it, something to do with being counterculture. He never got a chance to look more into it, but any movement with stores dedicated to its dress code wasn't going against the grain that much. He wouldn't turn down the look, though.

"You think your brother might be in here?" asked Jun.

Kyle shook his head. "I don't think this is his style."

Russell squinted through his goggle-glasses. "What are you talking about? He said he wanted to look cool. Why wouldn't he be there?"

"He said he wanted to look cool and stand out. He can't stand out if he's dressed like you." His brother pointed to the next store down. "That one might be a good place to start."

"Okay, we'll head in there then." Jun decided.

Soon, the group wandered into some kind of athletic store. Aiden's glasses were the only thing shielding his eyes from its blinding white insides. Even the staff dressed in all white. Aiden's jaw locked up. Was this a clothing store or a doctor's office?

Two teenagers worked the register, but only one had customers. The other one, the girl with her braids bent at the ends, stared at the group with bug eyes, no doubt because of Jun. That's what Aiden thought before she opened her mouth. "Are you," her eyes fell to the boys, "looking for someone?"

"Yeah, our little brother." Russell stepped up to the counter. "He's like us, but shorter."

"Was he wearing yellow? The cops came in here looking for him." She pointed outside and down the road. "I just told one he went that way." Cops. That's what Apennine Boulevard was missing. For a second there, Aiden wondered if he made a mistake camping out elsewhere.

Someone tapped his arm from behind. It was Jun, hiding behind him in the most suspicious way possible. "Psst. Ask if he was with anyone."

"Why don't you?" Aiden whispered back.