Young Writers Society

Great thanks to Charlie, Beki, Celt, and Murt who helped edit and put this together. Couldn't have done it without you, guys!

GEMINI

The young lady who stayed upstairs lived all alone. Without even a single visitor, friend, or relative to drop by. The exception being the occasional deliveryman whowould oftentrek his way up the rickety stairway and down the lone hall carrying packages addressed toa Miss Milena Novak.

Curiosity getting the better of us one bored evening, we took a glance at her Facebook page hoping to discover some secret that needed uncovering, convinced in our logic that our neighbor had to have been some sort of covert Russian spy, or perhaps a vegetated paraplegic, but instead found quite the opposite, that she works at some ordinary office job four blocks down the street and got up earlier than we every morning. Though, that could just be her cover-up.

Still, she wasn’t quite what we’d picture as a loner. She had every aspect and quality of a fully functional human being, and certainly didn’t look the part we had originally envisioned. Just flipping through herphoto album, we got the sense that this was a person who needed only the affirmation of herself, and who could very well live a comfortable life without the want orneed of others; a privileged young woman of white-collar heritage, enjoying the fruits and independence of her first-world education, impressive resumes, and general complacence in life.

In fact, she’s what we would imagine as the photographer’s dream subject: a Slavic Alice lost amidst the wonders of real-life. In one such picture, we saw her sashaying the streets of a glassy New York cityscape, light reflecting off her blue eyes. She looked girl-like, against the backdrop of yellow cabs and graffitied bricks. It wasn’t until we started paying more attention that we found her one morning interacting with the rest of the world.

It was a fateful Friday morning. She stopped at the intersection between the two competing Starbucks to lower her head with a slight inclination towards a trash heap across the street, where nestled there, deeply breathing, was an old beggar man, naked save for the trash pile he slumbered in and the live cat he wore around his neck.

“Excuse me, sir!”

The man startled in his sleep, emitting a loud squeak and a snort. “Why, yes?”

“Is that a cat you have around your neck?” There was something comedic in her patronizing glare. This tough talk coming out of a pint-sized lady with her hands upon her hips, anyone would be skeptical. The old beggar man yawned a great deal, stretching his brown arms before he settled deeper into his trash heap.

“This here’s mer scarf,” he added lazily, “Ma’am.”

“That’s a cat.”

“Yer insane, lady!” He turned his back towards her, angrily muttering about how the lady in the heels had disturbed him in his sleep, but Milena was determined to have her way.

“Here, look…” She quickly perused inside the contents of her bag and pulled out her glass-encased phone, quickly snapping a picture of the homeless beggar, fully intending to show the ignorant man evident proof. The high-definition photo told no lies. Milena made a mental note to herself to upload the picture for her blog later, as cats were often products of viral sensation.

“Why! That is a cat!” The old beggar man frowned, scrutinizing the unmistakable evidence. “My mistake, my mistake.”

“Well?” Milena crossed her arms, tapping her foot against the concrete.

“Yes’m?”

“Aren’t you…you know? Going to let him go?” The old man looked at Milena incredulously, as though she were asking him to remove his own limb.

“For what, lady? She’s warm on my neck. Look, if you want the cat, you’re gonna hafta pay for her. Nothin’s free in this world.”

Milena sighed, exasperated. “Now that is just nonsense! Why should I have to pay? This is animal abuse is what it is! ”

“Suit yourself.” He proceeded to lean back against the poor kitten, before Milena exclaimed in horror.

“No! Look! How much do you want?” She continued to rummage through her largehandbag for her wallet, spilling the contents of the bag all over the sidewalk: about a dozen or so photographs and letters. She promptly stuffed everything back in, her eyes lingering for a second when a chocolate bar fumbled out.

“Geez, lady. Tha’s a lotta fan letters, are ya famous er something?”

“Just tell me how much you want!”

The old beggar man smiled deviously.“How about that phone ya got there?”

“What?”

“I could use a nice model phone like that. A companionable pet for your fashionable phone, sounds like a deal ter me.”

“This has my personal information—”

“Give me your phone, or I won’t budge.” The poor cat was screeching now, scratching at the old man trying hopelessly to break free out of his hold.

“Fine, fine, just—” Milena quickly handed over her beloved phone. She figured it would be worth it in the long run. She still has the picture, and she was due for a phone upgrade next week. She could easily cancel her services and retrieve all of her numbers and emails later. Surely, the number of hits she was going to make out of that provocative photograph, coupled with the feeling of herself as a mini-humanitarian was a bargain. Or at least, that was the way she rationalized it.

The beggar man seemed happy in any case. He threw the cat off his shoulders, snatched the phone out of her hands and retreated fully submerged inside his trash heap. The cat scrambled off, ricocheting in every direction. It was just as well. It wasn’t like Milena to keep a cat. Heavens, forbid! At least now the cat was free from that awful old man and her running away saved Milena a trip to the pound.

Milena, though, had to struggle her way inside a now disorganized bag for the latest tablet, where she quickly tweeted to all her coworkers that she lost her phone and would be late for work.

***

Sometimes I like to think that in this day and age, we’re privy to a microscopic yet vast world. Itexists inside an electrical wire which birthed a new culture. It’s a universe parallel to ours, where the Milena Novak of New York City is known to everyone as the anonymous Gemini, freelance blogger and web personality.

When word got around of the old man and his cat, the world exploded in a million views, comments, tweets, and side-stories. But Gemini answered to nobody but Aries, where in their private rooms, they chatted from dawn to dusk.

ARIES: So, what did you end up naming her?

GEMINI: I didn’t. I was going to take her to the pound, but she ran away before I could chase after her.

GEMINI: It’s as if she knew...

ARIES: I find it hard to picture you running in those shoes.

The shoes he was referring to was one of the many photoshoped elements of herself, used for her front-page spreads. Milena figured he didn’t have to know every detail of her life.

GEMINI: lol! Doesn’t matter now, anyways.

Milena chewed on her lip, looking around her apartment for inspiration of what to talk about next. She desperately wanted to change the topic.

GEMINI: I’m hungry.

That was pathetic. What was she doing? Voicing aloud her every thought as though—

ARIES: me too.

Milena smiled. She didn’t know how it happened between him and her. They just connected somehow, and he was different from the rest of them. He was different from anyone Milena had ever met. He was wise. He was always comforting her, giving her advice, making her laugh. Making her day. They had been talking to each other like this for five months now. Each revealing aspects of themselves, without fully revealing anything; sharing anecdotes, without disclosing details, yet she was surprised with how much she looked forward to these nonsensical conversations day after day. Wasn’t that how the world worked anyway?

Everyday is just filled with meaningless chatter, and yet somehow this was supposed to connect everyone. It just didn’t make any sense. Milena felt much more connected when she was online, talking to people she thought resembled her more than her so-called office friends.

GEMINI: work was awful today. I was forced into having lunch afterwards with the most superficial people you could ever meet.

GEMINI: Worse thing ever.

ARIES: those people bothering you again? Why don't you just quit your job and do freelancing full time?

GEMINI: I can't do that. It's not a big deal anyway, women harass each other all the time.

ARIES: I'd go over there and take care of them for you, but for that I'll need to know where you live.

ARIES: ...or can I at least know your real name?

GEMINI: I can’t tell you that.

ARIES: Why not?

It was too soon even for Milena. A name being a powerful thing in this day and age, and armed with that information, a complete stranger could know everything there is to know about her. Even where she slept. Pictures were deemed too dangerous, and she had to resort to editing herself down to unrecognizable perfection. If she was going to do this, she had to be careful.

ARIES: nvm, jk

GEMINI: Question—you wouldn't happen to like German chocolate, would you?

ARIES: ?

ARIES: As a matter of fact, I do…

***

When Milena finally arrived to work that Friday afternoon, she snuck into her cubicle with all but work spinning around in her mind. She was already hours behind schedule, but it couldn’t be helped. She had to inform Aries of what had happened, as she was sure, there might have already been numerous missed calls and messages from him already.

She pulled out her laptop and began to type, clacking away at her keys. Focused on the email, she forgot the rest of the world.

“Milena, what are you doing?”

Milena snapped her laptop shut, swiveling in her chair with a guilty slump, before she exhaled.

“Oh, it’s you,” Milena said. Edith Gonzalez looked at her with much suspicion.

"What are you hiding?" Edith asked.

"Has Milena arrived?" Caroline asked, peeking from over the compartment. "Good of you to show up today. We could only cover you for so long."

"Speaking of which, read your blog,” Edith said. “Since when were you involved in pet rescue?"

"I think it's just darling to get involved in something,” Caroline said. “It's very in right now."

"That's no excuse,” Edith said, picking up some papers and busily filing them into a cabinet. “You so owe us lunch later."

Milena had her face in her arms, secretly dying with exasperation, and she could not wait to get home so she could finally have a private conversation with Aries. It seemed like she was thinking about him nonstop every day now. She couldn't help but wonder about how he thought of her, sending her that chocolate. In fact, she really just needed to talk to someone about it, and she figured that Edith and Caroline were the best options she had.

"How about we go do lunch now?"

The girls took their hour break at a diner across the street from the main office building. It was an old run-down place, about to get renovated, shiny stickers and posters advertising food that looked nothing like what they served inside. The booths were made of red, cheap plastic and the wooden tables were suspiciously plastic-like as well. Milena was sure she'd find a collage of gum underneath them.

The waiter came by to take the orders. Milena ordered a glass of water for herself. Edith who was somehow always preparing for some marathon or another, had her usual Caesar salad with no dressing, and Caroline looked at the menu for quite a longer time than she normally would have before she set it down.

"I'll try the meat broth," Caroline said, folding the menu closed and handing it to the waiter. Milena and Edith both stared at her, surprised expressions on their faces.

"You do know the meat broth contains meat?" Edith said contemptuously.

"Well yes—”

“And you’re still going to order it? You’re not going to eat it, are you?”

“About that. I’m afraid I seem to be suffering from some quarter-life crisis."

"Quarter-life crisis?" Edith shot back at her, "I haven't heard that one before."

"It's killing me inside, Eddie,” Caroline said, “Two weeks ago, Mark took me out to that nice sit-down burger joint down the street? You know the one. Anyway, I wanted one of their burgers, I figured when in Rome... Poor waiter must have forgotten I had specifically ordered a veggie burger! You would’ve thought I was the first vegetarian to step inside that place from the looks I was getting. Took a great while too. I was so starved; I shoved the thing down without even expecting it-"

“Oh no!” Edith gasped.

“I had picked up Mark’s burger! The way they just slap it down there, you would’ve thought…But it was already down my throat—”

"Oh, that’s just horrible! You poor, poor child.” Edith shook her head, taking a sip of her water. “Was there a riot? There must’ve been a riot. I can just picture it."

"No, actually.” Caroline shook her head. “No chaos. No vomit. Actually, I’ve quite enjoyed it. My goodness! The taste of meat is so heavenly!"

Edith stared at her wide-eyed, nervously laughing. "Look at her, Milly.” Milena cringed at the nick-name, “she's gone berserk."

"No, hear me out. Hear me out," Carolineraised a palm, a serious expressionformed on her face."It was at that moment that I realized, I liked this, I genuinely liked the taste of meat in my mouth, it was something so new and it felt like me. It felt like I was unleashing a part of myself I never realized I had in me...and all my life I had been a vegetarian, actively avoiding this part in myself, and for what reason? All those years avoiding barbeques and cookouts, inconveniencing Mark, all those years I was denying myself. I was avoiding the inevitable. Hence, my quarter-life crisis."

“You can’t just suddenly become a meat-eater, Carol. That’s just silly.”

"Maybe I'm having one of those..." Milena said, more to herself than out loud, yet nothing seemed to go overlooked when Edith was around.

"Oh! Sounds like a story,” Edith said just as the waiter arrived with the food. The table hushed up, each of the women taking a couple of bites from her food in silence.

“So,” Caroline looked around her shoulders, double-checking the empty surroundings. “Spill. What’s up?”

Milena reached into her bag, pulling out a chocolate bar of some foreign brand—Belgian. It was her absolute favorite. That morning she had received the bar through the mail, along with the other various fan letters, and she would’ve dismissed it as a gift from one of her subscribers—she was always getting strange things in the mail, after all. But there was something about the chocolate bar that intrigued her.When she had dropped the chocolate bar on the pavement, she had noticed there was something special about it. The fact that it was her favorite brand, a fact that nobody on the internet could’ve known, and was she supposed to think it was just a mere coincidence? But then, the chocolate came just as is, no package or envelope, no return address—only a message handwritten on the back which read From Secret Admirer. Milena could only guess at one possible candidate for who it might be, and it worried her a great deal. Was the nondescript candybar dangerous? Could he have found out where she lived?

Her friends stared at the chocolate and then looked back at her as though expecting more.

“A secret admirer?” Caroline said at last, “How cute. Very grade-school.”

“I bet I know who it is,” Edith said in a teasing voice. “Frank White.”

“The janitor?” Milena exclaimed. She hated that oaf excuse of a man, Frank. He's always bumbling around in her office, never leaving her alone. He didn't even know how to operate a computer, let alone approach her properly and he wasn't even attractive to make up for it. If ever Frank was good for anything, it would be to confirm the existence of lumberjacks. That's what he reminded her of, the Brawny man from those old advertisements. She didn’t know whether she should be appalled or offended at her friend's suggestion.

“Oh yes!” Caroline nodded, “It’s got to be him. I’ve seen the way he’s looked at you lately.”

“No,” Milena dismissed the theory at once with a wave of her hand, “I already know who it is. See—I’ve been seeing a guy for about five months now.”

“Who is he?” Edith asked, shoving a forkful of salad into her mouth. Caroline also returned her attention back to her food.

“Well, see. That’s the thing. I don’t know…”

“You don’t...? Don’t tell me you’re chatting it up with one of those internet followers of yours? Oh, Milly. You can do so much better.”

“How do you mean…?”

“No, Eddie’s right,” Caroline said. “Internet dating is useless; they’re all just a bunch of weirdos without social lives. Look, there’s not even a return address.”

“You could be talking to a serial killer for all you know,” Edith said. “Take my advice, drop him. Why don’t you go out on a date with Frank instead? He seems like the perfect fit for you!”

But Milena wasn’t listening. She was already thinking about tonight and what she was going to tell Aries. She might as well ask him how he found out about the chocolate and her address while she was at it.

***

ARIES: As a matter of fact, I do…

ARIES: I used to bring home a bar of chocolate to my family all the time. This brings back memories.

It brought back memories for Milena, too. A time in her life she'd rather not speak about. Milena was only five years old.

ARIES: All of us shared that single bar.

GEMINI: That’s funny…it’s the same with me and my sisters. My father used to bring us chocolate all the time.

GEMINI: Before he was sentenced that is.

GEMINI: I was meaning to ask you about the chocolate because I received one of the very bars this morning, anonymously.

GEMINI: I was wondering if you sent it?

ARIES: …Your sisters?

GEMINI: Yeah. I’m one of four. Didn’t I mention it before?

ARIES: No, you didn’t.

ARIES: …and you say your father was sentenced?

GEMINI: Drunk driving. Killed a woman. Fifteen years. I don’t talk to him anymore.

GEMINI: Why are you stalling? I already know you sent the chocolate...

GEMINI: It’s okay.

ARIES: Milena.

ARIES: It’s not okay.

Milena was horrified. Shestared at the screen in disbelief. The conversation zipped through her mind, as realization struck her.

GEMINI: How did you know my name?

There was a pause of nothing before his next reply, and all the while, Milena’s heart was racing. She could feel it in her veins. The pounding, the beating of time itself going by infinitesimally slow.

ARIES: Don’t panic…

ARIES: Because it’s very likely I’m your father.

Milena shut the laptop off, closing the lid as she stared into space. Slow tears brimming down her face. Her heart was beating fast as she tried to process what had just happened in front of her. She could barely believe it. She didn’t want to believe it. It was as if her entire life had turned upside down and she could no longer function. It was as if she had shut down the meaning for life itself.

She was angry now, and thrashing, she slung her arm across her desk and knocked everything down. Papers fluttered, glass and laptop shattered upon the hard floor, all just pieces of glass now. Useless! It was all a joke. Some superficial world she now lived in pieces. Anillusion.

She saw her tablet come to life, a blue vibrant glow indicating aSkype message on the glass screen. From Aries. Milena cried furiously now, lashing out at the tablet and throwing it against the pile of junk. She stared at the broken glass for a while. It was all just man-made. Fragile. Somethingthat might resemble something whole or real, but was as superficial as the rest ofman's creations. Doesn’t glass first originate as muddied dirt, or sand? Milena couldn’t fathom how she hadn’t realized it before. She was always so very careful. Always trying to prevent the worse-case scenario without even realizing what the worse-case scenario was!

How could she have gotten to this point? How could she have trusted him?

She was on her knees now, sobbing helplessly, her face reflected among the fragments, when she heard a commotion outside of her window. She felt slightly annoyed that the noise had interrupted her tantrum and rushed over to shut the glass, but the sight of the events outside surprised her.

People. So many people were gathered right outside of her window looking right up at her, or rather, looking up at the tree below her ledge. Milena couldn’t fathom why they were all there, until she saw exactly what it was they were gazing at—there was a live cat stuck in the tree.

It was the same cat she had rescued from the beggar man, except she looked like she had lost a lot of weight. She was continually mewing, her body frozen from fright and shock, and her head suddenly turned up towards Milena. Big, watery eyes looked up at her pleading for her help once more.

Milena ran down the rickety stairway, joining the rest of us who gathered as bystanders to this tragedy. A few of us set out to climb the tree and hadn’t even gotten halfway up when the firefighters arrived. The heroes raised their ladder venturing out to make the rescue to the cheers and exuberance of the crowd.

Milena turned towards me and we smiled politely as neighbors should.

“Wonderful,” Milena said, as the rescuers climbed up. I nodded in response, noting that her face was tearstained. In fact, she looked much more like a loner in this specific moment than she ever had before, her hair was disheveled and her normally glassy, blue eyes were dulled as if it in a pleasant trance.

“In all my life,” she continued, “I’ve never witnessed a cat stuck up a tree. I mean, really. You see it in movies all the time, in TV, you see it in fiction and you’d think it’s cliché, but…to see it for real…”

The firefighters were already climbing down the latter with the kitten safely in toe.

“Whose cat?” One of them yelled.

To all of our surprise it was Milena who raised her hand.

“She’s mine! That’s my Gemini!"