Stellar

Chapter One: A Pina Colada Apocalypse

Who cared if the universe might explode? The real tragedy was that on this desolate, storm-enraged planet called Jupiter, there was not a single Starbucks in sight.

To be fair, Moonie didn't actually know if the universe was on the verge of ending--she had just naturally assumed, since the Galactic Council didn't call meetings on any days beyond equinoxes and solstices. And the end of her summer vacation was not either one of those. So either they had called a meeting to declare the end of the universe itself, or to ruin her summer break.

Music blasted on her left--some Earth song about pina coladas that was irritatingly catchy. The party expanded all around her--a sparkling pool snaked off to her right, full of glowing star figments clad in bikinis and swim trunks; a sauna saddled beside its larger, cooler counterpart was dominated by figments of warmer galactic bodies; a juice bar hugging the water's edge, its bamboo surface covered with cup-sized coconuts.

Skirting the edge of it all was a swarm of red nothingness. Even the chipper tune of the pina colada music couldn't drown out the howl of the crimson-tinged wind swirling in a mad torrent all around them. Of all the places to have a meeting, the Galactic Council chose the eye of Jupiter's Great Red Spot. No way in unless invited; no way out unless dismissed.

Staring at all the bare-skinned figments splashing around in the water, smiles shining brighter than their starlit skin, Moonie debated risking an escape into the storm. There hadn't exactly been a dress code installed with the invitation. Naturally, she showed up in her ketchup-stained Pink Floyd shirt, her ratty boycut jean shorts, and a shiny crescent-shaped necklace she found while crater-exploring one day.

Great. Now she was the weird-looking one because she hadn't shown up half-naked.

In the sauna, a golden-skinned boy glanced her way. He looked like one of those guys any other girl would fawn over: chiseled features, a built figure, a natural quirk at the corner of his lip. And yet all Moonie could think about as she stared back was how his arrogant glare pierced through his cheap-looking sunglasses and his golden complexion made him look like a crispy chicken tender.

And she, for one, hated meat.

She knew who he was, of course; every figment of the moon was debriefed on the major council members. Since each galactic body had dozens of figments, the representatives changed every meeting. Yet figments from the same body all looked the same--moon figments like her had overly-pasty skin and silver saucers for eyes, while asteroid figments were built like blocks and star figments glowed obnoxiously bright.

And then there was the goldilocks in the sauna. One glance was enough to make her turn away from him in disgust.

Sun figment. Cocky little bastard.

Sun and moon didn't get along; that was a given. Afterall, they were the two most powerful galactic bodies in the universe. Therefore, they were like siblings fighting over the same toy--except the toy was universal domination. How adorable.

Nearby, a figment approached the juice bar and ordered in an all-too-familiar voice. Immediately, Moonie's eyes snapped to the boy sitting there at the counter. And there he was, his lean figure glowing brighter and more radiant than everyone around him, his profile faced to her. Her gaze traced the severe line of his jaw and the flash of his toothy smile and the single dark brown curl bouncing like a pig's tail at the center of his forehead. His favorite pair of airpods rested in each ear.

The Earth music crackled through the speakers, tremoring through the sand at her feet.

'If you like Pina Coladas, and getting caught in the rain