HUDSON

Andrew’s face was glued to the window, his eyes were wide and shocked. “We’re in space?”

“Yes, we are,” I responded.

“This isn’t any hologram or digital screen stuff, we’re legit in space?”

“Yes, we are outside of the Earth’s atmosphere.”

“Wow,” Andrew’s face lit with amazement, “Wait, how are we breathing?”

“Now, that’s a plothole writers love to avoid,” I said.

“We’re heading to the moon?” Andrew was about to get off his seat to moon-gaze before I reminded him, “Stay on your seat, keep watch on the box.”

“Right, right. What’s in the box again?” He asked.

“It’s better that you’re oblivious to it.”

“Meaning, I’m not allowed to know?”

“More like, you will live a happier life if you don’t know.”

Before Andrew could question again, he got easily distracted by the International Space Station, “Do they know we’re in space?”

“Best they don’t,” I replied.

We carefully landed on the other side of the moon. The hard ground was pitch black from the lack of light, stepping on it felt like walking on the void. I took my flashlight out and turned it on to look for a hatch. Andrew closely followed me from behind, carrying the heavy metal box I told him about, also gladly keeping his mouth shut, probably because he was scared.

“Ah!-” Andrew fell hard on the ground.

“Are you hurt?” I kneeled to assess his condition. Right under Andrew was a hatch. A diminished silver hatch with writing engraved into it.

“Woah, ancient script?” Andrew seemed to have spotted it too.

“No, it’s the universal language for this reality. If you’re well, we will enter.”

“Me? I’m perfectly well!” Andrew attempted to stand up with the box but promptly fell on the ground again.

“Alright, which part hurts?” I said as I went back to the ship for the first aid box.

“I think I twisted my ankle,” I could hear him say.

When I kneeled back down before him, I removed his shoe to press the ice pack against it.

“This one, right?”

He nodded, but his eyes were on the stars.

“Does it feel better now?” I said again to get his attention.

“Yeah,” he said, this time looking left at the horizon.

He’s annoying, so, so, annoying. I should’ve just had Ron help me like always. This man can’t even look at me.

“I dare not bother you and the stars, but a thank you would be nice,” I glared at him.

Then he finally looked at me, and I noticed his flushed face.

“Thanks,” he said with an awkward smile. Embarrassed much?

I continued the treatment by wrapping a bandage around and elevating the ankle. Afterward, I opened the hatch, which led to a tunnel illuminated moderately. There was a ladder leading to the underneath.

“I can stay up here,” Andrew said.

“Do I seem like I can carry that box down?” I complained.

He respectfully shook his head in response.

ANDREW

Hudson was all the way down the mysterious tunnel. “Let it down!” his words echoed to me. The box—also mysterious—was tied with a thick rope. Honestly, at this point, I was only hoping for two things:

1. I’m not taking part in some ultra-universal drug dealing, murder, war crime, or any crimes.

2. Hudson becomes very proud of me and starts to see me as at least a good and reliable friend. (Then we could be more, hehe)

I was standing with my half-healed ankle, and I slowly let the box down. It went quite deep, but I could feel the rope loosen and his words echoing through “I have it!”

Then I climbed down, far down. The closer I got to the bottom, the louder the song became. A very foreign song. When I did reach the bottom, instead of being greeted with a mysterious bunker with grim walls and suspicious men in black suits, I was shockingly greeted with a nightclub with a disco ball and colorful flooring. Everyone here though, is not a human. The people appeared like Teletubbies but thinner, some with a feminine body, and much, much less scarier faces. Most of them had a glass with a teal liquid. I grabbed the heavy box, maybe I’m carrying some weird liquor?

“Follow me and hold my hand to avoid losing me,” Hudson told me as he gripped my hand really tight. I would’ve been happy with the contact if my hand didn’t hurt. He ushered me behind the counter, a foreign-languaged conversation between the bartenders and him, and then we went behind a grim door. A small closet, or not a closet. Nothing was inside, near the top was a tiny window.

“Keep the box here, he’ll come fetch it later.”

As ordered, I kept the box down. “Who’s he?” I asked after.

“The owner of this nightclub,” Hudson said.

“Did the box have liquor?” I said.

“Goodness no, we’re sixteen and law-abiding citizens,” he said as he sauntered out.

I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

“So, why is there a nightclub on the moon?” I followed behind.

“When I first came here, my question was, why is there an underground city? The answer was obvious, these beings can’t live up with the sun’s radiation blasting constantly. Anyway,” his eyes met mine with a small grin, “Want to dance while we wait for him?”

His words were music to my ears or radiation to my heart. “Yes!”