Bright (Transformers: The Last Knight)

Two (REVISED)

Cracking the code on the iPod wasn't hard. The person who originally owned it decided to put it as 1234.

The stupidest passcode in the universe.

I was fighting to figure out where the language option was in the settings as I waited for my clothes to dry. Cybertronian obviously isn't a choice, and I don't understand... Whatever this language is. Arabic? I don't know.

I finally saw multiple options to choose from, and one of them said English.

Hallelujah.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror finally. I had on the fake glasses. There were a little bit of dark marks forming under my eyes. There was a really light baby blue streak in my hair.

Shit. I need that injection.

I grabbed my bag and stepped out of the bathroom, ignoring the look the woman was giving me when I walked out the door.

I sat down on a bench and played with the iPod a little, going through the music that was on it. It was odd. The language was set to some foreign and complicated one, but the music was in English. Besides one song called "Yoredet."

The dryer I was sitting in front of buzzed. After pushing the glasses back up my nose, I sat the iPod down, pulled out my clothes and stuffed them all in my bag. I kept the grey sweater out and put it on over my pink dress with the blue skirt.

Something kept nagging at me that I shouldn't wear a dress at the moment, but I didn't feel like changing, so I pulled out the black leggings that were just-above-my-knee-length and put them on under my dress.

That was when I realized that everyone else in the laundromat was staring at me.

Oh scrap.

Then I realized that I still had the glasses on. Maybe they don't realize it's me.

Fake an accent! Fake an accent!

"What?" I say, forcing a British accent. "Have you never seen a girl before?"

They all immediately went back to whatever they were doing. I rolled my eyes, packed up my stuff, put my garbage in the plastic bag and threw it away in the trash.

And I walked out the door of the service center.

. . . . .

Dear Primus, what am I doing here? Did I take a wrong turn? Did I go left instead of right?

Because I'm standing in front of a blocked off area. Inside Chicago lines.

Being here, with everything that's going on, is like suicide.

So why am I here again?

I was about to walk off when I saw a group of boys crawl through a hole in the fence and run down towards the stadium.

Primus, dammit. They're not supposed to be in there. That's like a Cybertronian Grave Yard.

I crawled into the hole after them. The boys went down onto the field and wandered around the crashed combat drone. Then they went out towards an escape pod.

An older escape pod. I felt like I had seen one like it before. Maybe in a history drive or something. The markings on the side of it reminded me of the ones on... On him...

I snapped out of my thoughts when I saw the kids climbing up on the escape pod, looking in through the glass dome on top.

That was when I realized who was in the escape pod.