“... but such is the danger of learning who the author of the book you enjoy is. You don’t even have to meet them. You may just pick up a second book and realise the characters are talking with the author’s voice. And it’s not a voice you care about. Perhaps, that is the best way. Because the other way is by actually facing the man and seeing him scrunch his face when he sees you and your companions as the nearby ID scan makes its obedient click.

And yet, I feel free. Free of doubt. I don’t have to wonder to myself if the words that bothered me were purposeful or an unfortunate choice of phrasing. I don’t need to find excuses. I can make the annoying voice, that asks if I am being unfair, to shut up.

I can now loudly proclaim that Jin Kuan Rao-Ling is an insufferable prick.”

Rin kept re-reading this passage from one of the Andrew’s letters and it made him feel warm inside.The first one was sent just a few hours after Hopestar left Earth; it was full of joy about finally meeting associates he’s only ever talked with on the outnet before and anticipation about meeting one of the rare contemporary authors Andrew enjoyed. He wasn’t the favourite, he wrote in Earth Standard after all. But his first novel was one of the few Andrew owned as a physical plastic copy. The second letter was sent several hours later and was full of disillusion and resentment. It was strangely endearing.

Right now, Rin was back in normal space, resting, while Hopestar was docked at the Bagathon II station. But Andrew was already in the subspace on board one of the Comets heading for Hearth-Ch’t, a mixed colony outside of SOI. It was a longer hop following the vector opposite to Bagathon. Eventually, Hopestar would make a curve around the human space via Colossus, Wells, and finally Jeph, the border world. Andrew would return to SOI space by that time. Still, they would have little to no opportunity to talk directly, even in range of the outnet connection.

Rin had a couple of drafts for the reply to these letters. He wasn’t sure if he should comfort Andrew after this unpleasant meeting or if it was better to focus on the reviews of the books he had read. Probably, he would just send both variants.

But he was yet to do it because neither letter felt complete. None of them talked about Andrade.

It was hard to explain his hesitation. On one hand, he experienced the animosity between the librarian and the First Pilot from a very short distance. On the other, Andrew was trying really hard not to give Andrade even an iota of his attention. Writing about the encounter in the library could really piss Andrew off and he would have no opportunity to act on it for another month. But omitting it seemed unfair and dishonest.

And then there was the weird card game… Andrade was different when he sat at the card table. No, the cheating part was very in-character. But the rest of the time, the Chief Pilot acted like a completely new person. He smiled without mockery, he talked about rules and strategies with enthusiasm, he shuffled cards with mesmerising sleight. And he kept giving Rin these unfamiliar glances, the opposite of the contempt he was used to. 

Rin didn’t know what they meant. Occasionally, his mind returned to the “bet chat” conversation with Mikey, but he immediately pushed them away. Andrade couldn’t be into him. He just… couldn’t. If he was, surely he would just tell. Or Rin would see it. Or something. This wasn’t it. But what it was in reality, he had no idea. 

And despite this certainty, Rin was afraid to write to Andrew about it. What if he took it wrong? What if it caused him pain? Just knowing that Rin agreed to hang out with the man he despised?

After that first card game, Rin was sure he would be besieged by Mikey the very next day. But there was nothing. Either the stewards who worked at the casino chose not to gossip about what they’ve seen or it was private gossip that was yet to reach the pilots. But eventually it would get out, he was sure of it. 

He wanted someone to help him figure this all out. And, as much as it hurt him to admit, Mikey just wasn’t a person he could go to. Explaining all the context to someone else sounded excruciatingly hard, so Rin decided to leave it be until a good moment arised.

They’ve met in Sharifa’s cabin because Devon recently started sharing his with a new steward, who spent all their free time in their bunk, refusing to go out for any other reason but to work. On the other hand, Sharifa’s cabin mate was spending her time off at the interactive entertainment hub, attempting a ‘dungeon delve’ in a fantasy MMO that ran on local Hopestar servers. Rin had no clue what that meant, but both Sharifa and Devon were sure it would take ages.

Hopestar was back in subspace for another week and a half, heading to Colossus now. Despite not having stepped off the ship on Bagathon and not planning a leave until Wells, long hops felt tiring for Rin. Maybe it was the extended exposure to subspace; no matter the technological advances, humans always felt something was off when not in normal space. Maybe it was isolation from the outnet with no way of checking if he received any replies to his letters. (He did receive a heartwarming letter from Maggie and even wrote a reply, talking about Andrew. Nothing too much in detail but still it felt like revealing something extremely personal. He drafted two letters to Mbowe but didn’t send them.) Or maybe it was dealing with the crew members for whom getting a shore leave was important and long hops were excruciating.

Devon was sitting on Sharifa’s bunk, his girlfriend’s head on his lap, while Rin took the opposite one, alone. He watched them navigate their relationship for over a year now through several thirds and fourths but he barely knew those other stewards. They didn’t seem to stay for long enough, but Devon and Sharifa? They were perfect for each other. Watching them together left a tugging sensation in his chest. It was, at least partially, envy. Could he act the same with Andrew around other people? Ugh, that was laughable. He didn’t dare act this way with Andrew even when they were alone. Why was it so hard? Why did these things matter? Why, despite all the misery it caused, he couldn’t just push past it?

“Is it true that Seidel was the acting captain on this departure?” Sharifa asked, looking at Rin. He wasn’t sure she liked him much but they got along well enough.

“Yeah, she did. From what I understood, the captain had some kind of medical procedure at Bagathon II and was sleeping it off when we had to head out.”

“Huh.” She pondered this for a moment, then sighed. “I hope she becomes the new captain. That would be awesome.”

Rin blinked, unsure where this came from. “Is… there talk of changing the captain?”

Devon grimaced and waved his hand. “Not as in ‘replacing’ the current one. But a rumour has been going around that Kamenev and Hoffman would retire soon. Like, it’s an old one but it has been much louder in the past half a year or so.”

“Because the captain is sick?” Rin asked quietly. He didn’t like gossiping but it felt like something that concerned the whole crew. If they lost the captain, how long would Hopestar carry on without one?

Sharifa shrugged. “You are rather new but we, oldies, remember that Kamenev used to be a much more active part of the crew's life. He would organise parties where all the departments could intermingle and attend them. There was this annual movie watchalong, where they’d book several days of stay on one of the mixed colonies, so that everyone could get the time off. The media theatre on the Fourth deck would be packed.”

“And from what I know, there was even more before the two of them went through renovation.” Devon added in a softer voice. “Yeah, he looked older, but he was always the heart of the party. But since then… the health issues must have just piled up.”

“Or, you know, could’ve been all the drama with Andrade and Haasan.” Sharifa snorted.

Devon poked her in the ribs and looked at Rin apologetically. He was aware of their friendship with Haasan. Nothing further than that, though Rin occasionally felt like Devon suspected something. If he asked directly, Rin wasn’t sure he would want to deny it. 

But Devon wouldn’t ask. Nobody would ask. Everyone was too nice for this and were willing to wait for him to bring it up first: Devon, Mikey, and even Andrew.

But it was so hard. So. Fucking. Hard.

Rin must have lost control over his facial expression because Devon decided to scold Sharifa. “Seriously, nothing happens between those two for years and yet people keep on gossiping about it.”

She shrugged. “That’s the way things are. You make a disastrous decision once – and it chases you for the rest of your life.”

“Sharifa, can we just drop it.”

“It’s alright.” Rin said quietly. Something bubbled in his stomach anxiously. He could just tell them, right? About Andrew. About Andrade. And they would know what to recommend. They’ve been dating so many people and knew even more, they would understand the complexity of the situation and have good advice. He watered his suddenly dry mouth.

But before he had a chance to come up with an opening sentence, Sharifa sat up with a heavy sigh and locked eyes with him. “Sorry to be so blunt, but what’s your problem?”

Rin blinked and stared back at her. “What?”

“What’s your issue with discussing other people?” She said in an even voice.

Devon’s eyes went wide. “For fuck’s sake, Sharifa! You can’t just-”

“Yeah, I can.” She gave him a side glare then returned her attention back to Rin. “Like, I get it. There are things and topics one would rather never touch. People have triggers and traumas, and it is fine to inform others about them. So you tell your friends not to initiate conversations about it with you and in wider groups you just leave when it comes up. I do that when shitheads start saying ‘Oh, I’m so depressed’ when they are just tired. Fuck ‘em.” She tilted her head. “Why do you always make your hang-ups everyone else’s problem?”

A pout properly settled on Rin’s face. “I literally did nothing just now.”

“Uh-huh.” Sharifa raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “Except for making that face. Like you are better than us or something. Because you choose not to participate in gossip? How fucking noble of you. What’s wrong with gossiping about people who are not in the room? Who you will never meet? We don’t wish them bad stuff, we don’t do anything to achieve it! At worst, we just joke about their worst qualities and move on.”

“Unless it’s ‘bet chat’.” Rin grumbled. He couldn’t help but bring it up. Each time he remembered about it in the past week, it made his blood go cold.

Devon grimaced. “Ugh, that place?!” He pulled out his interface and started scrolling through the boards.

Sharifa sighed heavily. “Seriously? You’ve found the worst place and decided to judge everyone else by it? It’s literally the most fringe you can get.”

“Mikey is in it.”

Both Devon and Sharifa groaned. “Thoresson is such a disaster,” he sighed.

Sharifa shook her head. “Listen, I get it. That chat should have been banned ages ago. But it just brings us back to my earlier point! We used to have regular parties where people could hang out and meet folk from Engineering and Piloting and hook up and learn stuff. And now, all they have are rumours and no way to easily check any of that. So, I say, gossiping is a harmless alternative.”

Rin ran his fingers through his hair and pressed the forehead to his knees. “I just don’t want it to be about me.” He mumbled.

A moment later, Devon finally found something on his interface and let out a sound of disgust. “Fucking hell, they phrased it like this?!” He showed it to Sharifa and she let out a small ‘ew’.

It was quiet for a couple of moments, as the two of them read through the channel. Finally, Sharifa looked back at Rin, who didn’t pout anymore but looked miserable instead. “Listen, I think you should go to Seidel about it. Tell her, you have an issue.” She tapped the screen. “Yes, Devon and I could do it, but it’s not about us, is it? We would just sound prudish, as if we hate someone else’s innocent fun. But this thing is literally about you.”

Rin shrugged with one shoulder. He didn’t know Seidel much, and she had to be busy now as she was the acting captain.

Devon gave his interface to Sharifa and leaned forward towards Rin. “Listen, that chat? You shouldn’t let it get into your head. They can bet on whatever they want. You don’t need to feel compelled to do what they want, especially fuck Andrade.” And he shivered at the thought.

“Or do.” Sharifa said simply, and when two other men stared at her, baffled, she shrugged. “If you want to, do it. If you don’t - don’t. That’s the whole point. Who fucking cares if there are bets or not? What if there’s someone you like, and there is a bet about it, would you decide not to pursue it then? That’s just stupid. It’s not for them to decide. What if there is a bet for literally every person on Hopestar, do you plan to stay single forever just to spite them?”

“It’s still unpleasant.” Devon tried to offer.

“Yeah, it fucking is.” She cut him off. “But at the end of the day, no matter what you do, these people will discuss it. And if you try to keep stuff secret just to avoid being found out, it will drain you out. And drain out your partners. And instead of the joy of being with someone you like, you will hurt them and yourself. And no one deserves that.”

With this, Sharifa put down the interface and turned to wrap Devon in a hug and kissed him on the cheek before nuzzling her face into his neck. He squeezed her back and rested his chin on her head. He threw a glance at Rin, a sad comforting smile.

Rin didn’t smile back. 

He was trying hard not to cry.