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Light flashed into Sadia’s eyes again and again as she ascended to the top of Zéro Janvier’s Tour Dorée in its crystalline glass elevator. As she rose into the sky, all other buildings sank beneath her until their neon lights became a sea of glittering stars against the bruised, empty sky. She felt restless, like a criminal about to confess, knowing what she was about to do to Johnny, what she should’ve been doing all along. But no, now it had a purpose. She would betray him just as he had betrayed her; she wanted the final twist of the knife, for him to feel that same aching, insatiable hurt. He should’ve known better, she thought.
But there was no time to feel restless, not tonight. Tonight was the night to end all nights. The victory of Zéro Janvier, a time to celebrate, certainly. And more so, his marriage to Stella Spotlight, truly a formidable pairing, would be the talk of magazines for weeks to come. But in her heart, she knew this would be a final toast to the end of an Epoque, to the ruin of humanity, to blind submission in the face of corruption. Yes, one final night to dance and revel as the world quietly crackles and hisses, the faintest hint of an inferno to come. Sadia had heard of Stella, (after all, who hadn’t?) She was the one and only, the divine, the icon of an era. You couldn’t walk out into the street without seeing her face plastered onto posters advertising for ‘Boulevard du crépuscule,’ her face that very well could’ve launched a thousand ships. She wondered what it would be like to see her up close. She didn’t have to wait for long, because with an echoing ding, she had arrived at the wedding reception, 121st floor, Naziland.
And then there she was at Zéro Janvier’s side, dressed in white, laughing and sipping champagne as lights flashed around her. She was radiant, her dense auburn curls cascading about her, a beam of light sometimes catching the ring on her finely gloved hand, or her eyes, making them sparkle. Watching her talk was mesmerizing; she surely couldn’t have been anything less than an actual angel. Without realizing how long she had been standing there, a guard approached Sadia, as if to say Were you even invited here? Move along. One sharp look turned him away. She moved away from the elevator and stayed along the walls, watching the hedonistic scene from a distance. Ziggy was up on a platform further away. If he saw her, he made no sign, completely absorbed in the music.
…………………
While from a distance all seemed too perfect, Stella was not enjoying herself. She had been talking to the same insufferable people, friends of Zéro’s, for far too long. Before, he had been eagerly showing her off, almost as if she were the rightful prize of his victory, but now the interest had begun to wear off, and Zéro amused himself in other things. And even though the party had practically just begun, it already felt like it was dragging on. Most everyone around her was dancing, laughing, or singing loudly, jiving to the music, and here she was making dry conversation. She doubted Zéro would be willing to dance, but frankly, things were getting boring, so she gave it a chance. “Zéro, shouldn’t we dance some? To celebrate?”
He remained absorbed in conversation, drunkenly laughing as people continually clamoured to congratulate him. With more venom at having been ignored, she repeated the question louder in his ear. It took a third time and a shake of his shoulder for him to turn around, “What? Not now.” He waved her off with a dismissive hand and continued the boisterous chatter. Stella clutched her champagne flute with dull anger, staring off into the crowd of partygoers. Thoughts arose, pushing themselves to the front of her mind, of the past, her life until this moment, of the potential future that threatened her, and the ache of how desperately unhappy she was became overwhelming. No, this is stupid, she thought to herself. After closing her eyes and taking a breath, she subconsciously vowed to take a few moments for herself and let her emotions bleed so she could return anew and forget this foolish moment of weakness and doubt had happened. Placing her glass haphazardly on a nearby tray, she quitted the room.
After some time, the lights and music became exceedingly tiring. Time was ticking, and it felt like it was flying by. Sadia couldn’t take it. “I need a smoke,” she said out loud to herself, unheard over the room's chatter. She slipped away unseen, passing through door after door until she came to a cool, dark hallway, only moonlight pouring through a massive window. She sank to the floor. What would come of her after this? She could go and warn the guards at this moment. And yet there was something inside her that had to see the destruction, the fire and brimstone, the end of the world. No matter what happens, she thought, at least that would be inevitable. She desired so badly to betray Johnny, to hurt him like he hurt her, to say, “How stupid could you be to expect me to just play along with your little scandal?” But still, she couldn’t deny that she longed to see Zéro Janvier fail just the same. It was never in her plan to end up siding with the Étoiles Noires, and yet, plans change. With faltering hands, she lit a cigarette.
She stared holes into the ground. This was the decision of a lifetime, and she was the only one who could make it.
“Who are you?” an annoyed voice said. Sadia jumped, her skin prickling abruptly. She looked up, surprised to see someone else at the shadowed end of the corridor. She was irritated at first, and a bit embarrassed to find her solitude already occupied, but a second glance revealed the person to be none other than Stella Spotlight, looking back at her, dishevelled, with a tear-stained face.
“Who are you…” She repeated.
Sadia kept her composure, trying not to let her initial disturbance show on her face. “You wouldn’t know me.” She said flatly before adding, “What are you doing back here? Aren’t you supposed to be out there celebrating?”
Fresh tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she quickly dabbed them away with a lacy handkerchief. “Yeah, I know I should.” She moved past Sadia before the window, a halo of light illuminating her head. “But I fucking hate it.” She sighed in anguish. “You’re right, I need to go.”
“Wait-” Sadia stopped her. Her own urgency surprised her. On any other occasion, she wouldn’t have taken a second thought. “Are you... Alright?” She regretted it immediately; consoling people was completely below her, and she had no talent for it.
To her surprise, Stella sank down on the floor next to her. “I can’t do it. I just married the new President of the Western World. I think I’ve just thrown the rest of my life away, and for what? What the fuck am I doing?” A tear at last escaped. “I don’t want this.” Sadia had no idea what to do. They sat in silence.
“Well, what are you doing here?” Stella asked after a moment had passed.
“Being honest, it’s not that big of a deal. My boyfriend left me, I think the world might be ending, so you know…”
Stella rested a hand on her cheek. “Why’d he leave you?” Sadia paused, taken aback by the blunt question.
“Left me for some perfect, pampered, blonde girl. Didn’t even look back.” Sadia flitted her eyes. “You might’ve seen it on the news.”
“Who, the Starmania presenter? No way. I thought Rockfort kidnapped her.”
“You might call it that,” Sadia said bitterly, “but it was love at first sight.”
Silence passed between them once more. Stella shifted so the moonlight could illuminate Sadia’s face. She was surprised to see her long lashes and bold cheekbones. Fluffy, dark fringe hung to one side of her head. Her hair was jet black, fading into indigo at the ends. She brought her smouldering cigarette to her mouth, blowing out smoke through darkly painted lips. She idly thought that she had perhaps never seen a more beautiful, striking face.
“I guess I should ask your name,” Stella said
“It’s Sadia.”
“Sadia,” Stella repeated. “You know who I am, I would guess.”
“Yeah…” Sadia thought for a moment. “I never would’ve guessed it - you and him.”
“He sent me a telegram one day, and orchids. I figured, ‘Well, my career is over, and what have I got to lose? I might as well say yes.” And by God, of course I don’t love him. He couldn’t care about anyone but himself, even if he tried.”
“I can imagine… someone as beautiful as yourself should rightfully deserve a painter or a poet,” Sadia said absent-mindedly, looking at her cigarette.
Stella almost betrayed a smile; they both knew painters and poets were things of the past. And yet, the sentiment affected her deeply. Of course, she knew all about the things people said about her in private, being someone as famous as she was, the population had the right to say whatever they pleased regarding her beauty, however lowly. Her image would outlive her, beyond her control, in the tabloids and late-night talk shows, in gossip among strangers. But for a moment, Stella felt the weight on her heart grow lighter hearing that sentence said by someone like Sadia.
…………………………
Sadia stood up. “I need to go back to the party. Come with me?”
Back through the winding halls, they went until they once again reached the Discothèque, where the revelry continued just as it had before. They stood together awkwardly, not knowing what was supposed to happen next. Sadia anxiously checked the time. “...mind if I stay over here with you?” Stella asked. She felt ridiculous.
“Not at all.”
Stella was about to say something else when the music changed and began to swell, from blaring electric disco to something slower and more personal. People around stopped chattering and began pairing up to dance to the more musical tune, the party was winding down. Sadia and Stella were soon among the few remaining solitary. Sadia waited for Stella to go join someone and dance so she could sink back into the shadows near the wall and be less noticeable, but was quietly surprised when she remained in her place, watching the other dancers go by.
When Sadia had called the Télécapital that day to speak to Cristal, she never would have imagined things to turn out like they did. Regardless of how it was meant to start out, Sadia and Johnny had become inseparable from each other. They had been through the roughest parts of life and had become two halves of the same, wounded whole. When Johnny fell for Cristal, all smiling and naïve that day she came to the Underground Cafe for the interview, shining like the first real ray of sunlight Johnny had ever seen in his life, her tightly woven life began to unravel before her eyes. She almost couldn’t even blame him, it was foolish to think a moth wouldn’t fly to the light.
Feeling perhaps a little too bold, a little too stupid, or both, a little too romantic and a little too remorseful, Sadia said suddenly,
“Dance with me?”
Stella turned her head, an expression of surprise in her eyes, and the faintest hint of red coloring her face. She smiled. “Really?”
“Sure, really.” Dancing was something that Sadia secretly enjoyed and could do very well, though it had been some time since she put it to practice. Of all those achingly human arts, it spoke to her in its simplicity. “Of all the nights, why pass this one up?”
“I don’t really…” Stella began, “know how to dance? I guess, is there a proper way?”
She gave it another moment of thought, then smiled again hesitantly. “Well, I could try a bit of a tango, I had to learn it for a movie once, but that was a while ago.”
This time, Sadia’s face showed a bit of color. A tango. A tango…
With a flourish of her hand and a grin, she said, “Well then, viens danser, mi amor.” She meant it in a joking, not-too-serious manner, but quickly realized that’s probably not entirely how it came off. She gingerly took Stella’s hand in her own and placed her other behind her shoulder. Stella did the same. Now that they were much closer, a moment lapsed for them to study the details of the other’s face, dark eyes staring into dark eyes. In Stella’s eyes, Sadia thought she could see something that almost frightened her, an infallibly cosmic look of sorrow and regret that you would have never seen in the posters of her face plastered in the streets, a well-hidden weight pulling on her soul. She looked like death itself. Sadia cleared her throat and took the first step. Stella followed as they took a few clumsy steps together, and from there the dance commenced.
“I fear I’m doing it all wrong,” Stella said in almost a whisper
“Just copy my steps.”
Slowly, the gap created by missteps became smaller, and they fell into steady rhythm with the music, moving quickly as if one, their shoes clacking in tandem as their legs swung out with practiced grace. They soon dared to look up from the floor, meeting each other with surprised smiles.
Just as she was about to get lost thinking about Stella again, Sadia realized, with urgent alarm, that she had almost nearly forgotten her reason for being at the Discothèque in the first place. It hit her with a wave of staggering, unexpected grief when she realized that she had been enjoying herself, and now it all had to end.
She checked a clock.
It was almost time.
She had made her decision. She wasn’t picking sides tonight, it was all going down. Ending their dance, she said to Stella with her heart pounding only slightly, “I have to go do something, I’ll be back.” Deftly, she raised one of Stella’s hands to her lips and placed a kiss, staying just long enough to watch the expression of surprise on her face before fleeing to a narrow corridor opposite the room. Cloaked in shadows, she at last found Johnny and Cristal waiting.
“You’re late,” Johnny said, sounding more worried than he was displeased.
“Is it set?” Sadia replied.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
“Wait, I forgot something.”
“Be fast, we need to get out.”
This was the moment. She turned back through the corridor and raced to the center of the room, grabbing a champagne flute and dashing it into the ground with a crash.
“Zéro Janvier!” she shouted. His attention was captured. “The Étoiles Noires are in your building, planting a bomb beneath your feet.” Before she could say more, panic erupted.
“Quiet!” Zéro shouted. “Where are they now?”
“About to escape.”
Commotion once more, the guards started to separate. She turned to where Johnny had been watching from the doorway. His eyes grew wide and his face pale with shock when he realized what had just happened, and he disappeared. She snapped her head to the other side and locked eyes with a frightened Stella. She knew it was already too late to prevent the explosion, and besides, Johnny and Cristal would put up a fight.
“What the hell is going on!?” Stella screamed.
“We need to leave,” was Sadia’s only reply.
Grabbing Stella’s hand, they ran to the nearest set of stairs, where Sadia rapidly kicked off her heels and made Stella do the same. They began descending the stairs two at a time, so fast they were practically tumbling down. Down and down and down until bruised from tripping, they finally stumbled barefoot out into the street, gilded from rain. When they turned around, the sky had been painted red, glowing hot and bloody against the night. The top of the tower had become a blazing inferno.
They stood and watched in silence as minutes went by, bewildered, while night began to verge on daybreak. The neon light of the city had not yet gone out. Pale, wispy clouds stretched across the sky like ghosts. A future now stood before them, waiting impatiently.
Sadia began to walk, traversing puddles and small bits of rubble towards one of the entrances to the subterranean part of the city, where several signs were placed, one of which advertised the Underground Cafe, block 30, corridor B.
“Where are we going?” Stella asked.
“I know a spot.”