I don't have much time to mull over my encounter with the Breeze as the receptionist returns from outside the building. I sit on one of the seats in the lobby, trying not to draw too much attention to myself. I hardly even really look at the receptionist because I'm still preparing myself for this first mortal encounter. I take another deep breath (still entirely unnecessary) and stand. The sign conveying their absence has been taken down, which means I can go talk to them, I'm pretty sure. Okay. Let's do this.

My steps are light, so they don't notice me. A celestial's footsteps are practically unnoticeable, since we hardly ever walk. It's still something I'm not quite used to myself. Whether this will be a good or bad trait, I have yet to figure out.

Anyway, the receptionist: She's a human female, and is boredly looking at her phone. I take this opportunity to gather myself for the final time, because this is it—my first time meeting a human. I have to make a good first impression. It won't be perfect, but it should be as close as possible. I put on a smile (or, what I hope is a smile, please be a smile) and walk straight up to the desk with my luggage.

She finally notices me, and at the sight of my unexpected presence, jolts. This can't be good, can it? "O-oh, hello, there." Her words come out stuttered, and she tries to set her phone down. Because she's so startled by me, she drops it prematurely, and it lands on the desk with a loud clack.

So, turns out, she's nervous. That makes two of us, since I'm also hardly keeping it together and am in no position to reassure her and apologize for the unintentional fright.

The first thing I've learned upon meeting a human: I am a coward.

I clumsily put a hand into my jacket's pocket and pull out a creased piece of paper I've been keeping on me ever since I left Hollow's training center. "I'm here," I say. Only after seeing the receptionist's clearly confused expression do I realize that I didn't provide enough information. "I was asked to be here," I add helpfully, hoping that will clarify somewhat.

It doesn't.

The receptionist slowly takes the piece of paper, unfolds it, and reads it over. The further she reads, the more her face clears of suspicion. Thank goodness. "Oh, you're the new tenant from Hollow, aren't you?"

I simply nod, since apparently words aren't my strong suit. Never have been, but this is a new level of incompetence for me.

"Good! I've been expecting you. Here, let me just get a few quick things from you—"

After a few minutes of me clumsily trying to find my identification (a Hollow-issued ID card) and proof of affiliation, the receptionist fumbles around inside a desk drawer and brings out a key. I assume it's my new apartment's key, and a strange feeling wells up within me: excitement. Am I looking forward to this? I mean, despite my troubles, I'm ultimately excited for this mission, even if so much can and will go wrong.

As this feeling grows, I remember what brought me here: I volunteered as soon as I saw the posting. For my entire existence as a Droplet, I'd done a fantastic job of organizing, maintaining, and updating mortal information kept in the Droplet's departmental buildings within the Heavens. I never had to step outside of my comfort zone, not like this; no one had pushed me to do so, after all. I'd never descended to Earth before, and as the centuries passed, I realized something: How neat would it be to get involved with the mortals I'm indirectly helping and learning about? Maybe it was because I'd been the best in my class for so long, but I wanted to try something new. Droplets, with their mild personalities and flexibility, are essential in keeping the Heavens running smoothly, hence the lack of need for them to descend to Earth. While Reeds (the diplomats) and Breezes (the inspirational creatives) are always down here on Earth doing things I could never imagine doing, I have never felt the desire to leave what's comfortable. This sentiment is shared by practically all Droplets. But perhaps since I'm a masterpiece, my mind wandered. After centuries of fulfilling what I've been created to do, I decided I wanted something different, something exciting. And descending to Earth was the only logical thing left for me to do, so why not? Why not take the risk, even if I make a mistake? Why not see living, breathing mortals, whom I've loved for so long?

And now that I'm down here, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I've done the right thing. All these new experiences, all within the span of less than two months if I include the time I spent at Hollow... I wouldn't trade what I've learned for anything. It's invaluable, this knowledge I've gained. If anything, I'm more upset that I didn't do this sooner.

Back to the present: The receptionist leads me upstairs to the very top floor. "This is the floor Hollow's having you stay," she says. I'm relieved she doesn't make unrelated small talk I'm untrained to handle as she takes me to my room, which is just to the right of the one at the very end of the hall. The door to the one at the end is slightly ajar, and I reach out to close it while the receptionist's back is turned. One thing I do recall is that leaving things like doors unlocked is an invitation for thieves.

She unlocks the door and takes me inside. "Semi-furnished studio apartment, and you've only got one neighbor currently..."

The receptionist rattles off multiple items of interest for a typical tenant just moving in. Of course, I'm nowhere near typical, but I listen to the best of my ability, even though I can hardly tell what she means half the time. As a celestial, I excel at learning, but I need context to fully soak in new information. I nod here and there, having to remind myself that talking and asking questions will just lead to misunderstandings, even if I desperately want to know what this barrage of new terminology means. I'm hoping to soon actually put speaking with humans into practice with one who won't judge me too harshly. After the way I made her feel earlier, I'd rather not engage with this one too much just yet.

After the receptionist is done telling me what I probably really need to research and hands me a sheet to fill out, she gives me the metal apartment key. "If you have any questions, just come down and ask. Have a good one." She leaves the room, leaving me to unpack my small amount of belongings.

With everything that's happened, it's kind of nice to be "alone." I know I'm not truly alone; here on Earth, I'd never be. Even insects give off the glow that humans do, albeit many times smaller. Just looking around, I can see tiny lights glide through the air. It's beautiful, the way so much life can co-exist harmoniously.

What a day it's been. And from now until tomorrow, I can rest.