Chapter Text
I felt the artificial light of the room burning my eyes as they flickered open. Almost immediately after the inconvenience, I covered both of my eyes with my hands to shield them from further agony. I groaned in annoyance, under the impression that I’d just awoken to yet another day of mundane, quiet quarantine. That is until I remembered what today was; lift off.
My body jolted up, my eyes searching around the room to decipher whether my crewmates had woken up just yet. To my surprise, only one of my other crewmates, known by the name Tolkien, had woken up.
Tolkien was by far the most qualified out of us all, him being the richest and most experienced out of the five of us.
Besides Tolkien, my crew consisted of Jimmy and Clyde, who were certainly interesting characters by themselves, so when paired together, they could be regarded as a hassle for sure. Personally, I sometimes questioned how they made it to this point, seeing as they had a tendency to get side tracked or goof off or something idiotic like that, especially in Clyde’s case, who I was convinced had been held back by at least a few grades.
Unlike most of my friend groups from back in school, I didn’t totally hate my colleagues. At their worst, they were slightly annoying, though they respected my boundaries and knew when not to bother me. At their best they proved to be somewhat entertaining. If I were to regard anyone in the world as my ‘friends’, I suppose these four would come the closest to matching the description. Still, I made sure to keep my distance.
Tolkien was brushing his teeth, something he took great measures to perfect, for some reason. Brush, floss, mouth wash. Every day he repeated these same steps over and over, sometimes up to three times a day. These kinds of rituals people did really confused me. Why put so much effort into something that hardly matters? Whatever, it’s far from my concern.
The reverb of his spit echoed through the bright room, which made my skin crawl, earning a scrunched nose and quite a curse under my breath. Certain sounds, tastes, and feelings made me feel gross, like I needed to rip my skin off and scrub it clean. I didn’t ever figure out why insignificant things like that bothered me so much, and why it didn’t seem to bother anybody else nearly as much. Regardless, Tolkien must’ve heard me, because he turned around to face me as soon as I mumbled to myself. Apparently he hadn’t yet noticed that I’d woken up.
”Oh, hey. Morning Craig,” He addressed me, offering a friendly smile. “Are you feeling excited about today?”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
”Yeah, I guess…” I unenthusiastically replied, my eyes shifting to the pristine, blinding white tile that covered the floor.
“You sure? You seem a little…stale for someone about to go to space for the first time.” Tolkien questioned, patting his face dry with a towel.
Another sigh escaped me. What does he care about?
“Just tired, probably just need to wake up.” I answered in a disinterested tone.
“Mm. Okay, well, I’m gonna go eat breakfast and get coffee. See ya in a bit.” Tolkien finished, walking off into another room, still cut off from the outside world, only this room, we called the dining room. It consisted of food that had been pre-made, prior to our quarantine.
I closed my eyes and hung my head low, the feeling of a weight pressing down on my chest. I felt my throat burn and tighten up at the same time, like I was choking, but without injecting a single thing.
“What the fuck?” I thought to myself, unsure why I felt this sickened, when I had spent two weeks avoiding that very thing.
My feet carried my weighed down steps as I arose from my bed and stumbled my way to the sink. I looked into the mirror, my hair frazzled and my expression one of extreme discomfort.
I clutched my chest, the feeling of my heart beating so hard against my chest that my ribcage rattled inside me. Suddenly, everything felt wrong. The damn fluorescent lights stung my eyes like when you stare at the sun for too long, and the eerie buzz of the fridge from the dining room echoed in my mind, threatening to make it explode. I shut my eyes tight, praying to a god I didn’t believe in to make whatever this was go away.
I inhaled a shaky, sharp breath, trying to attain the control I so desperately needed.
All of a sudden, I felt the weight of someone’s hand fall onto my shoulder. Naturally, I jerked my head around, startled by the unexpected interference.
Jimmy’s familiar lazy-eyed stare met mine, and we exchanged a moment of silence.
Jimmy is the funniest out of the 4 of us, if his failed standup comedy career had anything to say anything about it. He’s nice to me for the most part, but occasionally says things he probably shouldn't with what he stands to lose, working at NASA and all (should he say something a little too outrageous). Some people look at him weird because of his disability. I don’t get it really, nor do I care. It doesn't affect me, so why should I?
Jimmy decided to speak up, which meant I would have to as well. Just. great.
He looked concerned with his eyebrows knitted closely together. “H-hey fella,” He stuttered as he began, just like always. “You d-doing alright Craig? Feeling a little n-nauseous?”
I cleared my throat, and opened my quickly drying mouth to speak (despite the fact that my throat felt like pins and needles threatened to shut it closed).
“M’ fine…yeah. Just excited…I guess.” I managed to mutter, my eyes darting away when the eye contact became too unbearable.
”O-okay…alright, man. I’m here for you if you need a-anything. Wanna go get b-breakfast with me?” He asked me casually, probably trying to get me to focus on something other than the inevitable certainty of lift off later in the day.
”Sure, Jimmy.” I responded, noting that some food might calm my stupidly active nerves.
”Great!” Jimmy smiled his signature, slanted, pearly white smile.
After Jimmy fully turned around fully, a shaky breath expelled itself from my body. Breathing was only ever this hard when I became overwhelmed, which, contrary to popular belief, was very easy for me.
Jimmy must’ve heard me, because he turned his head around and looked back at me. Something about it felt distant. He spoke.
”You c-coming, Tucker?”
I nodded my head, and followed behind him towards the ever annoying buzz coming from the fridge.