Wishing Inc.

Chapter 2

I sometimes want real friends. My friends, if you can call them that, are an illusion. I pretend to like them, and they pretend to like me. It's rather exhausting. 

I walk with them now. Andromeda and Pisces chatter quietly and respectfully, and Canis trails behind, his hands tucked under his arms. Andromeda gives me a fake smile, running a hand through her black hair. Pisces is muttering under his breath, shooting a poison glare towards a group of LumenBots as they roam down the street, beeping mechanically. I stay silent, carefully placing my feet on the icy ground. Canis glances at me quizzically, but says nothing. He knows I am nervous.

Today is the day we begin working. Jobs will be selected for us, which is a big deal. We'll have these jobs for the rest of eternity. We'll live forever, unless we die in the field, which has never happened.

I am hoping for a position as a Star. I'm wearing my normal clothes, a black sweatshirt (the only color they came in besides grey) and black jeans. These clothes are considered normal for youths, but I'll receive a new outfit when I have my job. I didn't comb my hair because I woke up a bit late, so it's tousled and fuzzy. My hair is black, like everyone else's, which bugs me. I notice Pisces staring at my eyes, and smile a bit to myself. I've always taken pride in knowing my eyes are different than every other pair of eyes. They glow deep purple and black, nearly the opposite of everyone's pale grey eyes.

We finally reach the Amphitheater and line up in front of a plastic folding table. The Jobs are given privately on little slips of paper, neatly handwritten and signed. I silently pray that I'll be a Star, but I don't have much time to pray, because I'm next in line.

The women sitting at the table, Cygnus, gives me a silent nod as she hands me a piece of folded paper. My heart pounds as I cross the concrete hall to the private seats, where one can read their slip in privacy. My hands shaking, I unfold the slip, and I feel myself break into a huge grin.

Cancer Grey,

It is our honor to inform you that you have been selected for the position of:

Star 

Please report to Wishing Inc. Headquarters tomorrow morning.

- Wishing Inc.

I carefully fold the paper again, biting my lip. This is not what I expected.

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I walk home alone. I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want to think about tomorrow. When I reach my living quarters, I pull open the silver door and dump my bag in the corner.

Our quarters are the only place that can reflect our personality and aren't required to be set up a certain way. My walls are grey, of course, because paint doesn't come in color. I have dark blue carpet and black furniture. My room has royal blue walls and large, yellow, hand-painted stars that I spent hours on, my grey shirt covered in paint.

My room is the only part of my quarters that I leave messy. My idea of messy, anyway. My shoes sit at the foot of my desk, my coat hook is overflowing with bags and jackets, and my bed is unmade. I flop over on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

I know that I won't sleep tonight.